“If we stay full we might break even, after payroll.”
“Break even?” It felt like a big blow, even after their small profit increase.
Linus shrugged apologetically.
“Franny hired you right out of Cornell’s hospitality program,” she teased. “Can’t you cough up some Ivy League solution to all this?”
But neither of them laughed.
“If your library events pan out, that may provide the cushion,” he allowed. “But it doesn’t give us much time.”
Summer was their busiest season, and it was ticking by. Holly needed to gather materials for the library spruce-up and work on publicity with Ben. First, she needed to call Francine.
Though she’d planned to keep it a surprise until completion, now felt like a good time to share Ezra’s restoration work with her grandmother. The goldfinch and the sailboat paintings had long been treasured parts of the house that she and Francine shared, and seeing them lovingly restored might buoy Francine’s spirits. And maybe, just maybe, it would rejuvenate the trust she’d placed in her granddaughter with the inn.
“Is this a test?” Francine joked, when Holly invited her over. “Because I told you I was giving you space for a while, and I’m trying very hard to be good.”
“This is worth breaking your word over, I promise.”
With Francine scheduled to come by just before dinner, some of the clutter in Holly’s mind felt cleared enough to get to work with Linus in the library.
“You know, I’ve always imagined the Spicer family in here,” she said excitedly, walking across the floor. It was true. Even as a child, Holly pictured the family spread out in the room, engaged in their own pursuits. “I used to picture Anna Spicer on one of those Victorian settees in the middle of the room, reading a large hardcover book. Tall pots of exotic ferns in the corners. A writing desk by the window, where the children had their lessons and Anna wrote letters to distant relatives as she watched clipper ships sailing in and out of the bay.”
Linus listened, his expression mixed. “Right. So, an austere fainting couch surrounded by a bunch of ratty plants isn’t going to cut it for book club. These girls want comfort andindulgence: cushy couches to curl into, fluffy pillows, and ample tablespace for cocktails and mocktails. And snacks. Snacks aresuperimportant.”
“Who says they’ll be women? Didn’t you just say you were invited to a book retreat in Provincetown?” Holly was half teasing, but after his analysis of their target audience she’d snag any chance to rile Linus.
“Maybe, but who am I to argue with statistics? All are welcome, but let’s cater to the vocal majority.”
“Vocal?”
Linus rolled his eyes. “Please. They’re here to chew the fat, whether it’s main-character moments… or their own.”
“Fine, but we’re on a budget.”
Already opening his laptop, Linus groaned. “Facebook Marketplace it is.”
After exhaustive searching, they found an antique dining table with turned legs listed nearby, in Harwich Port, that could seat twelve. “This could serve multiple purposes. Seating for a meal, a round table for discussions, a communal surface for crafts or activities. I think we need it.”
“I’ll message them now,” Linus said.
“I still imagine that velvet settee,” Holly lamented.
“You need to let that one go.” She bit her tongue as he typedcheap couches near me.
As they continued the debate on furniture and layout, Holly made a list of supplies for the painting and refinishing. “Oof. Finish for the bookcases is so expensive.”
“It’s an investment,” Linus said. “It takes money to make money, right?”
“At this rate we’re spending more than we’re making. The Sutton reservation did give us a boost, even if it wasn’t the full amount. Do I dare spend it so soon?”
Linus didn’t say anything. “I can’t help you make that call, but I think you know someone who can.” They both knew he meant Ben.
“He’s already coming by at one.”
“Oh? Another date!”
Her first mistake had been to mention to Linus that she’d spent Sunday at the shellfish farm. “That was not a date. He needed help and I needed to get out of here.”
