A few minutes later, there’s a light tap on the door.
“Enter,” I say over my shoulder, snagging a piece of crispy bacon.
“Wow, you found clothes.” It comes out sarcastically as she walks in with her ponytail swinging. She spreads the fresh comforter across the bed and smooths it flat, then tucks the edges under the pillows with the same precision she gave the sheets. She doesn’t glance in my direction.
“I expected you at seven.” I look down at my watch. “Which is now.”
“Punctuality is important, especially when I have a list of thirty other things to do today. But as long as Mr. Banks is happy, that’s all that matters.” She folds the top edge down and steps back to check her work.
On her way out, she slows near the balcony doorway, where I’m standing. I’m very aware of the intrigue in her eyes when she looks at me. Her hair glows golden in the morning sun.
“Do you need anything else before I go?” Wendy asks, and I realize I’m staring.
“That’s all. Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” Her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t give me a smile.
She’s lingering. “Why did you choose to stay at Seaside?”
I meet her eyes. “My assistant chose this place because it was small. Big hotels with a lot of people aren’t my style. I prefer smaller establishments because I don’t have to interact with quite as many people.”
“Are you a fugitive? Are you on the run?”
This almost makes me laugh. “Only in my mind.”
She tilts her head and studies me for a second. “I want to apologize for yesterday at breakfast. They?—”
“No need. I can handle myself. You haven’t met my mother.”
“You don’t understand what the Bees are capable of. They look like very sweet, tipsy old women, but watch out. They always have ulterior motives and like to play matchmaker.”
I find her warning cute.
“Thanks for the heads-up, but I don’t need it.” I sip my coffee and lean against the railing of the balcony. “What’s your name? You never gave it to me.”
Cal told me, but I need to hear it from her.
She breathes in. “Wendy Winslow. And before you ask, Gale is my grandmother. I’m helping her this summer because my parents moved to Canada.”
I feel like there’s more to this story, but I don’t ask. “Well, Wendy Winslow, it’s very nice to meet you.”
Being thirty feet away from one another in a crowded bar is one thing. Now that we’re three feet apart, it’s a totally different situation. I pretend she doesn’t affect me, but fail, especially when our eyes meet. They’re lighter than I remember, more golden than brown. Up close, I can see a few freckles across her nose.
“I really think it’s best if you don’t do that.” She instantly clocks me.
“Enlighten me,” I say with my brows raised.
“Whateverthisis.” She gestures between us. “You can’t keep looking at me like that.”
I try to play dumb, hating how she can see through me. My face stays neutral as I drink more of my coffee. I’m a guest with a semi-fake name, paying thirty thousand dollars to disappear in a B&B that no one wants to stay at. The last thing I need is a cute little complication with freckles and a high ponytail who can read me better than people I’ve known for years.
“Do you care to explain?” Even though I’m aware it’s a warning.
She’s unamused by me. “Tequila and chocolate preference?”
“Surprise me.”
“You shouldn’t let your breakfast get cold. If Rose is cooking and you’re forcing me to deliver it to you like I’m your personal assistant, then you should eat it.”
