Adelaide
DO NOT WORRY AT ALL. Honestly your message kind of made my day
Zander
In that case, can I make it even better?
Adelaide
Be still my beating heart
Yes
Flatter me
So I do. I spend the next hour talking about every little piece of her book I adored, and she spends the next hour roasting me. My heart stutters every time her messages come in. I haven’t felt this way in years. It only takes an hour for me to realize I’m done for. One way or another, Adelaide Ramsay is going to change my life.
Chapter Four
Adelaide
“Okay, what are you smiling at?” Tabitha asks, sidling up to my table for the third time in an hour because I’ve inadvertently sidetracked her from her job.
Tabitha’s worked at Beaver Creek’s one and only lodging, The Nook Bed & Breakfast, since we were teenagers. She’s always said she has one goal in life: own The Nook. Well, that, and marry her high school sweetheart, Simon, which she did last fall. The B&B goal involves her playing the long game, working her way up until Patti St. Clair decides she wants to retire or sell.
“Nothing.” I turn back to the blinking cursor on my sparse Word Doc. “I’m trying to get in the zone. I have so much research left to do and a distinct lack of motivation. Part of it isn’t my fault—my contacts just haven’t gotten back to me yet. But the other part is I bit off more than I can chew.”
“Don’t you always feel this way at some point?”
“Yes.” I twirl a few strands of hair around my finger, reading the last sentence I wrote. “This feels different, though. Like Ican’t quite piece things together until I get that one explosive bit of info.”
“Right. So I bet that guy’s been a nice distraction from all that, yeah?”
My fingers freeze. I try to act like I’ve just worked out something major for my book and type out a line of text. I’m thankful Tabitha walked up to my table from the kitchen and can only see the sticker-covered back of my laptop. I come to work at the B&B at least once a week. As long as I buy a coffee or pastry, Patti doesn’t mind and Tabitha is thrilled. I stay silent for a few more seconds as I fake my own genius. I can feel Tabitha’s eyes on me, then my cheeks heat.
Just as I’m about to answer with the lie I’ve worked out, my phone betrays me. Zander’s name pops up on the screen.
“Who’s Zander?” she asks.
In the two days since I gave Zander my personal account, and then my phone number, we haven’t shut up. This is detrimental to my impending manuscript deadline and I somehow find myself not really caring. Which is a shock compared to my usual ever-present need to be on top of things.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, which is probably the worst avenue I could have taken. I pick up my phone. “Some guy who messaged my author account.”
Tabitha rolls her eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest and my gaze snags on the row of diamonds lining her wedding band, complementing her deep bronze skin tone. She glances behind herself, flipping her mass of unruly curls over one shoulder, then she hops on the chair opposite mine.
“You have ten minutes to tell me exactly what’s going on. If you see Patti, touch your nose and I’ll leave. Now, who is he?”
I exhale. As much as I’d love to hide what could be my first potential relationship in over a year until I know how muchpotential it has…I also kind of want to scream about it with my best friend.
“He’s an author,” I say.
“Oooh, two authors. There’s a book in that.”
“I met him at the library on the weekend.”
“So he’s local, then?”
“Ish.” I shrug. “I was the only true local at the event. He lives in Guelph.”
