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“Pine Falls?” I whip my head in Oliver’s direction. “That’s where the hotel is?”
“Well, yes,” Donna replies, bringing my attention back to her. “Since the town is right at the border of the rainforest, we thought it’d be easier for the whole crew.”
A rush of relief fills me when I realize that this error might actually be the best thing that could have happened to me. If I had to handle seeing Oliver for the first time and set foot in the town he loves so deeply, the one he promised to show me every hidden corner and all his favorite spots . . . a shiver runs through me at the thought of the vulnerable state I could have found myself in the moment I’d have crossed the town’s line.
“We did find an alternative, though.” Donna adds as she glances quickly at Oliver, who looks absolutely miserable. “Oliver has kindly offered his spare bedroom. It’ll even be easier for you, as you two will be able to coordinate the rest of the trip together.”
My stomach drops like a ball of lead to my feet. “No.”
That’s it. That’s the only word that I can pronounce, but I think it’s pretty clear. No way in hell am I sharing a house with him.
“Now, Charlee.” Donna puts her hands up. “I understand the situation is less than ideal, but this will only be for one night, and then you guys are off to the rainforest anyway.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m sure we can find another way. I’m not staying at the house of a guy I know nothing about.” I stand, and the chair drags on the floor with a loud screeching noise. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? I pace in front of the office, trying to find a solution—any solution—that wouldn’t involve me sleeping in the same house as Oliver. I pull my phone out of my back pocket, opening my hotel booking app. I scroll, looking for one in my price range that’s located within a forty-mile radius of Pine Falls.
Come on, come on. There has to be something I can book. But everything I see is $450 per night at the lowest, and there’s no way I can afford that. Not with my salary anyway. I love my job, but it pays the bills and that’s it. I’m clearly not in it for the money.
I dial Ben. He picks up on the first ring.
“Charlee, hey! How’s Vancouver? Did you make it to WP offices all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, listen, there’s an issue with my hotel room, and I need you to get me another booking.”
“What happened?”
I groan. “A double-booking issue. The bed-and-breakfast is full. I need you to pay for another hotel.”
Ben chuckles on the other end of the line. “Fine, fine. Let me get my credit card.” I hear muffled noises and a second later, he’s back on. “How much?”
God, he’s gonna freak. “$450.”
His loud laugh blasts my ears. “Are you out of your mind, Char? Hell no. I’m not even paying that when I go on business trips, and I’m the manager. What did Donna say?”
“She . . .” I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. This cannot be happening. “She suggested the local reporter could house me instead. But Ben, come on. I’ve never—”
“For free? Even better!” Ben exclaims. “Look, Charlee, you and I both know the financial situation of WP isn’t good. We need to save money anywhere we can. So if you’re asking me to choose between you getting housing for free or a $450 hotel room, this won’t be a Cornelian choice for me. Please tell me you understand.”
I close my eyes, clutching my fists as I swallow my pride, for once. I hate it when he mansplains things to me. Like he thinks I’m too dumb to understand what he’s saying. But there’s a big difference between understanding and agreeing, and I really don’t agree.
I inhale slowly before answering. “Of course I do. But I can’t sleep in a stranger’s bed. What about safety?”
Ben snorts. “Are you really playing the safety card with me right now? You? No. Nuh-uh. Will you have your own room?”
I sigh. “Yes.”
“Then it’s settled! He’s a reporter for the same company as you, Charlee, not Jeffrey Dahmer. You’ve slept in worse places. I’m sure you can handle this for one night.”
“Ben—”
“I gotta go. Don’t be a jerk, Char. The guy’s kind enough to let you stay with him. Okay, talk soon.”
He hangs up, not leaving me another chance to protest. Ugh, he can be such an asshole sometimes.
My back hits the wall. I slam my fists into it. “Fuck!”
I can’t do this. It’s too much to ask of me. I can’t be in such tight confines with the man who slipped through my fingers five years ago, who held my heart in his hands before my eyes ever landed on him. And now it’s all coming back in big swoops, and I’m being pulled under the weight of the memories and the feelings I once carried.
