‘Good man.’
‘He is,’ Iris said, the smile clear in her voice. ‘Goodnight, Daisy.’
‘Night, Iris.’
As Daisy ended the call, she knew she should get some sleep, too, but she couldn’t seem to put the little book down. One more entry wouldn’t hurt.
September 18, 1925
John says I can’t keep running around town with Nate and not make an honest man out of him. Lucky for me, John is not in charge. He says he wants me to be happy. He says he hasn’t seen me like this since before William ran off.
He says Nate is nothing like William.
But aren’t all men the same?
What happened to you, girl?! Daisy wanted to shake the book until Aunt D came to her senses. Instead, she threw it across the room.
The irony of her feelings was not lost on her, but sometimes it was just easier to be frustrated with someone else than to turn that feeling on yourself. Why berate herself for not sealing the deal with Elliot when she could be angry with a long-dead relative? She pulled the covers over her head and pretended to sleep. Of course, men were not all the same, but she and her great-aunt sure were. And at the moment, she didn’t want to know how it ended. For either of them.
ChapterThirty-One
It was eight-thirty on a Monday morning and Elliot’s new puppy had just peed in the corner of the lobby, right next to the foot of one of the few guests still staying here. Said guest was not amused.
His brother was arguing, quite loudly, with the dry-wall guy who apparently had mis-measured and not delivered enough.
Jack was too busy flirting with Gabe to be of any help. (Gabe was flirting right back, which was lovely and all for Elliot’s friend, but not really his top priority at the moment.)
They’d found asbestos in the walls of the motel-style rooms.
Mary and Joseph didn’t like his designer’s choice of wallpaper for the new luxury suites in the main building, and Elliot had to be the one to tell her that. His designer did not take notes well.
The electrician was supposed to come yesterday, and he hadn’t shown up or called.
But the mayor did call to tell Elliot he’d had a dream that the inn should lean into a strong nautical theme, which was definitely not happening.
Today’s muffins were orange cranberry.
Elliot hated orange cranberry.
But Daisy had just walked in with her flowers for the lobby so the roof could fall on his head, and Elliot would still call it a good morning.
He was a besotted idiot.
‘Hey,’ he said from his crouch on the floor where he was sopping up dog pee with a towel as Goldie ran around Daisy’s ankles, yipping like a deranged… well… puppy. She had certainly woken up over the past few days, and his sleepy baby had turned into a high-strung nightmare. He shouldn’t have brought her here, but she cried every time he left (and all night long for that matter), and she shouldbe in her crate behind the desk, but she cried there, too, so he let her out for just a few minutes, and this was how she repaid him.
‘Uh-oh,’ Daisy said, putting the flowers down on the nearest table. ‘What did you do, baby girl?’ She kneeled down to pet Goldie, who responded by spinning in delighted circles before trying to climb Daisy’s body to aggressively lick her face. This dog had no chill. But Elliot kinda felt the same way around Daisy, so he understood. ‘You can’t do that on the carpet! That’s bad, bad…’ Daisy couldn’t finish her admonishment because she was giggling too hard at Goldie’s attempt for a kiss.
Daisy gave up and sat on the floor and let Goldie get her fill before she ran off to cause more trouble.
‘Dog-dad life not going great?’ she asked with a wince.
‘We’re still working out some of the kinks.’
‘Like house training?’
‘And sleeping through the night.’
‘Yikes.’
