“Kiera Chadwick,” she said sternly. “Pull yourself together. You’ve been running this guest house for six years, and you’ve never once left a bad mark on a customer. If they are picky, or discerning, you deal with it. And you deal with it like a boss, so they always leave smiling. You are not going to change that record today. Now go and wait by the door, put your game face on, and answer it as Kivi the hostess, not Kivi the gibbering bag of nerves.”
A harsh talk from her older sister, but it did the trick. Kivi disappeared out into the hallway, and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her hair, now released from its ponytail, framed herface exactly as she liked it, while the eyeliner she had swiped across her lids gave her look a dash of professionalism.There you go, analysing your physical appearance again…
“Incoming!” Eva called, and a few seconds later there was a knock at the door.
Game face on.
“Hello!” Kivi swung the door open with a beam. “Welcome to Sandy Dunes Guest Hou…”
“Kiera?”
Shite.
“Um… beach lady. Sorry – Miss Saltmarshe. How… how are you?”
“I’m… better.” Miss Saltmarshe stood on the doorstep, looking perplexed. “So you’re Kivi Chadwick. The owner of this B&B.”
“Well, guest house, actually,” Kivi blurted before she could stop herself. “We do more than bed and breakfast, you see. We do dinner, and we have a big lounge, and-”
“Miss Saltmarshe.” Thank God for Eva. She butted in, saving the poor guest from Kivi’s inane rambling.Miss Saltmarshe is SO much more attractive up close.“Welcome to Sandy Dunes. I’m Eva Chadwick, Kivi’s sister. May I show you to your room?”
“I’ll do it,” Kivi said, finally taking a gulp of air. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be in charge, after all.” She tried to laugh, but she could feel her face heating up. “Is it just the one suitcase, Miss Saltmarshe?”
“Yes, just this. Is my car all right, parked out there? I’m not going to get a ticket, or…?”
“No, no, of course not.” Kivi laughed for real this time. “That would be really silly, wouldn’t it?”Rhetorical question,rhetorical question!Before Miss Saltmarshe could try to answer, she picked the hefty suitcase up by the side handle and headed for the stairs. “Follow me!” she called.
“Enjoy your stay,” she heard Eva say, then she heard Miss Saltmarshe climbing the stairs behind her.
“It feels a bit of a rabbit warren, at first,” Kivi said as she led the guest through the corridors. “The place is bigger than it looks on the outside. But… this is you. Room Six – our biggest and nicest room. I figured that if you’re going to be staying here for six weeks, you could do with the extra space.”
“The top room? Oh, the magazine probably won’t like that,” Miss Saltmarshe said absently, watching Kivi unlock the door.
“Well, I figured that as the head honcho, no expense would be spared, so-”
“Thehead honcho?” Miss Saltmarshe’s voice was so incredulous, it made Kivi freeze mid-way through opening the door. “You thought I was an executive? God, no. I’m a freelance writer. They’ve sent me down here for six weeks on a project. That’s why it wasn’t me who made the booking.”
“Oh.” Kivi’s face began heating up again, when it had just returned to normal temperature. “I… my apologies. Well, the point stands that you still have the biggest room. And that you might like the extra space. So… here we are.” She finally swung the door open, and the two of them stepped in. She began to rattle off her usual spiel, pointing at each article in question. “Bed, chair, table, ensuite bathroom, kettle, coffee machine, window, skylight, skylightblind,plug sockets, fan. Breakfast is served between eight and ten, and dinner is at six, by pre-booking with me each morning. Dinner tonight is homemade fishcakes and roasted new potatoes, made by yours truly. And if at any point you wish to leave, the exits are clearly marked by…well, doors. Or windows, but I wouldn’t recommend smashing them. Hefty bill.” She laughed, then finally paused to take a deep breath in. “Now – will you be dining with us tonight? And do you have any dietary requirements?”
“I… that’s… no.” Miss Saltmarshe looked stunned. “I mean, yes I’d like to dine with you, but no, no dietary requirements. I must admit, you lost me back there. That was a lot to take in.”
“Don’t worry.” Kivi laughed again.Don’t sound like a maniac. Be professional.“It’s all on that sheet on the table, along with the WiFi details and some information about local amenities and things to do.”
“That might be quite useful, actually,” Miss Saltmarshe said. “I’ve never been to Cornwall before. And I have to write six articles on it. Nothing like a bit of research.”
“I’m always happy to help,” Kivi said before she could stop herself. “I’m a Cornwall native. Born and bred. Born and bred further inland, mind you, not by the sea, but I know a lot about it. So if you need any information, feel free to ask. Or Google it. That works too.” She laughed yet again, nervously.What are you doing? Haven’t you got enough on your plate?
“That’s very kind. Thank you.” Miss Saltmarshe sank down onto the armchair, and reached for the zip of her boots. “I think I’ll unpack and see if I can get any more thoughts down.”
Kivi took her cue. “Of course.” She turned around and headed for the door. “Oh! Dinner is at six o’clock, I can’t remember if I said. No dress code. You can’t miss the dining room.” She smiled. “We’ll see you in a few hours, Miss Saltmarshe.”
“Oh, please call me Saskia.” Miss Saltmarshe’s mouth twitched. “Miss Saltmarshemakes me feel like my father’s daughter.”
“Ah.” Kivi didn’t really know what to say. That was a bit of a random interjection. “Well, you can call me Kivi. No need to bother withMiss Chadwick,or even Kiera. Just Kivi.”
“Weed,” Saskia said immediately, then shedidblush.
“Weed?”Kivi repeated, failing to keep the incredulity out of her voice.
