“How is what going?”
“Your romance.”
“There is no romance. Who told you there was a romance?”
“Probably the same people that told you about Linda,” he said. “But from what I hear, it sounds like a perfect match.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because he will cook for you, and you love good food.”
She sighed. “He’s cute, that’s true, but most of all he’s brilliant at what he does and the restaurant is fully booked. As an experiment we’re doing two sittings from next week. It’s the only bit of work that is going well.”
“Right. So your interest in him is purely professional. You’re not interested in him bringing you breakfast in bed.”
She grinned at him. “He does have lovely dark eyes and an appealing smile. But like you, I’m too busy for a relationship. But hopefully Abby is going to help with that.”
His smile vanished. “I hope so. Keep me updated on that.”
He was suspicious of Abby, and she had no idea why.
What exactly did he think was going to happen? That Abby was going to steal the toilet rolls?
It was true that Abby had told her little about herself, but that didn’t mean she was hiding anything.
Evie was looking forward to getting to know her. And looking forward to proving Tristan wrong.
7
Abby
Abby stared out of the window, watching as Evie headed back up the street towards her cottage. It took her a while because she stopped to greet at least five people on the way, her smile visible even from Abby’s lofty position.
She’d never met anyone quite so cheerful and positive, but she was sure that some of it was a front. A defence mechanism. Abby did the same herself, sometimes.
I can’t stand people who lie to me.
Abby turned away from the window, swamped with guilt. Ironically enough she felt the same way. And yet here she was, lying.
This wasn’t going to work, and she was going to tell her mother that.
She should never have agreed to it. She hadn’t even started work yet and already she felt like a traitor. It might have beeneasier to justify if she’d understood what was going on in her mother’s head.
What was she going to do with the information Abby gleaned from her clandestine observations? Was she using it to justify closing the hotel? Looking for ways to reinvigorate it? Abby had no idea. She knew the team she worked with back in the office imagined her sitting with her mother while she confided all her hopes, plans and fears but her mother had never been like that. She made her own decisions and rarely shared the thinking that had led to those decisions, even with Abby.
Abby worked hard to please her mother and deliver what she wanted, but in this case it was hard to deliver something when she didn’t really understand the end objective. And when you weren’t comfortable with the requested methods.
She pulled her laptop out of her bag and put it on the little table by the window.
She’d work with the staff, deliver a report, but no more subterfuge.
Tomorrow she was going to walk into the hotel and confess to Evie who she was.
She slid off her shoes, stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, trying to figure out the best way to have that conversation.
Before today The Alexandra, Cornwall had been all about data. She could recite everything from occupancy rates to revenue performance metrics. She knew the names of every member of staff, including their age, experience and the length of time they’d been working at the hotel.
Until today they’d been names on a list in the report she’d compiled. But now?
