“Same with you, Mr. Frechette. Go get her, tiger.”
The hallway leading to the manager’s office is significantly more run-down than the lobby. It’s a lot more shabby than chic and has a slight musty smell. I can see my reflection in the brass plaque that readsElinor Greenwood. I hesitate before knocking. J.J.’s comment about fate is messing with my head, and I have a preposterous feeling that when I open that door, my life will change.
“Come in,” calls a woman’s voice. I open the door.
Edward stood very high in her opinion. —Sense and Sensibility
4
Elinor
A polite knock raps on my door.
“Come in,” I say absently as I shut my banking tab. The door swings open. I glance up, and my heart stops.
“It’s you!” We say in unison.
Edward. The man I met on the trail. The man I was just thinking about ishere. I close my eyes and reopen them. He’s still there politely standing in my doorway dressed in a tan linen suit, looking for all the world as if he just walked off a fashion shoot for cologne or expensive watches. Except he’s not scowling like your typical male model. His whole face radiates surprised joy.
“Elinor?” He asks with a slight waver in his voice, “You are Elinor Greenwood?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
He nods and shuts the door behind him. His expression of delight shifts to something more complicated and harder to read. To be fair, my heart is also in tumult. I can’t begin to name how I feel—happy to see him, yes. But also, a little afraid and confused. I’m more than a bit flattered that he has gone to the effort to find me—seven months after we first met. It’s an unbelievable compliment that he even remembers me.
“How did you find me?” I ask as he reaches out to give me a firm handshake. When our hands meet, my whole body lights up, just like last time.
“As fate would have it,” he pauses and gives me a sheepish grin. “Reginald Norland is—I mean, was...” his tone sobers with the small correction, “my grandpa.”
“You’rethe new owner?” I sound disappointed. I suppose I am. And more than a little embarrassed for implying that he might have sought me out.
“Not exactly. My mom owns Norland Park. I... um... I’m here as her representative. J.J. at the front desk said that you could help me with my room.”
“Barbara Norland isn’t coming?”
“She sent me instead. I hope that’s okay?”
No, nothing about this is okay. This man is going to be stayingin our housetonight. In the guestroom next to mine. We’ll be sharing the same crowded bathroom. I’ve been dreading Barbarba Norland’s visit, but at least I had some idea of what to expect. I could be professional and pleasant with her. But with Edward—the guy with the infectious smile that I often dream about as I drift off to sleep? He’s here in my office, and he’s so much more attractive than I remember. This is a total nightmare.
I take a deep breath and smile, though I’m certain it doesn’t reach my eyes.
“Fine, so you’re here to... ?”Upend my life?I wonder bleakly.
“I’m here to... um... see the property.” He pulls out the chair in front of my desk. “May I?”
“Yes, of course, please sit.”
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” he says as he settles in his seat. “This is weird, isn’t it?”
“So weird,” I exhale.
For a beat we just stare at each other. He’s definitely overdressed. No one wears a suit at Norland Park. Yet, on him somehow the suit belongs. His eyes are the color of the ocean at twilight. I wonder what color he puts on his driver’s license. Gray or blue? It hardly matters... but theyarenice eyes. The perfect mix of serious and laughing. Unfortunately, there isn’tanything about Edward I don’t like—except that he’s the new owner’s son.
I straighten a stack of already tidy papers, just for something to do with my shaking hands.
“Um... well...” Edward begins and then stops, looking adorably baffled. Perhaps he is doing the same thing I am—rapidly reviewing and discarding all the possible things to say.You’re better looking than I remembered... Are you here to ruin my life? So much better looking! I wish it were anyone but you kicking me out... But also—is it strange that I’m happy to see you? You have nice eyes—are they gray or blue?... I really should have said yes to that date.
I finally settle on, “Can I get you something? Tea or lukewarm tap water?” I point to my electric kettle on the bookshelf behind me. I also keep a stash of mismatched teacups along with a tin of my favorite teas. I reach for a second tin and place it on my desk. “Or some cookies?”
