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Matthew

As for the festival, it went fine. Did I mention my dad hired a new consultant? This one’s from New York. She’s taking over the festival.

Matthew

Also…pretty sure she doesn’t like Harry Potter.

She probably hadn’t even read the books, which was a travesty in its own right. He wasn’t exactly a massive Potterhead himself, but even he could see the value the stories had brought to the world.

He clicked his phone off and faced forward. His friends would respond soon enough. Until then, he’d focus on finding some semblance of peace.

Of course, peace was not in his future, as the moment his house came into view, he caught sight of the woman from his thoughts—no, from his very nightmares—standing in front of the doors of Foxwood.

He groaned, slowing his pace so she might enter the house before he’d have to do the same. He really wished Dad would have put her up somewhere else—preferably in a hotel five hundred miles away. But then, every other consultant had been housed there, so why would Winnie be any different?

He watched in silence for a moment. The slower he walked, the longer she seemed to remain. What on earth was she doing? With her back to him, she peered down in front of her, struggling with something. Her purse? No. Her shirt? He didn’t think so.

She dropped her hands to her sides, then propped them on her hips as she looked up and down the length of the doors, clearly frustrated.

Slowly, understanding settled over Matthew, and a smile spread across his lips.

Now this was satisfying. Miss Posh Knox couldn’t open a door. To be fair, those doors weren’t exactly easy to open. They were old and finicky, always managing to get stuck. Still, the sight was a welcome one.

He moved forward with as little noise as possible, determined to take advantage of the situation he’d found her in. Maybe he’d tell Dad his latest consultant was defunct. Although knowing Matthew’s luck, Dad would simply brush it off as normal human behavior—like speeding on their property.

“No matter your aversion to her, Matthew,” Dad had said at the end of their conversation last night, “I believe Winnie will be just the one to save the festival…If not more.”

How a woman who couldn’t open a door was supposed to save Matthew’s festival and “more” was beyond him. Then again, how he was supposed to save the festival was beyond him, as well. Would it fall to ruin like some of the great castles of old? Should he just quit now, count his losses and do something that would actually add some value to his family?

Or…or was Dad right in believing Winnie was the key to securing the future of Foxwood?

Her grunt at the door brought him back to the present as she again tried—and failed—to open the doors. He took in the sight of her as she jiggled the handle aggressively. She had a nice figure. Long legs, curvy features. She must be a runner with those formed calves. Either that, or she’d made all that muscle from wearing those ridiculous high heels all the time.

Still, her face wasn’t half-bad looking. You know, if one liked that perfect flawless-skin, high-cheekbone, thick-hair kind of look.

Noting her fists once more propped on her hips, Matthew hesitated. Shouldn’t he just be nice and help her inside without making her feel the fool?

In an instant, however, he brushed the pesky thought aside. Winnie deserved a little humbling after the criticism she’d no doubt assailed at his festival today.

With a raised chin and more confidence than he really had, Matthew stepped across the gravel drive, knowing his crunching footsteps would finally give him away.

Sure enough, Winnie turned at once to look at him, surprise registering across her lovely features.

No. Just plain, old, simple features.

“Hey,” she greeted, looking back to the door.

He drew closer. “Having some trouble there?”

“What?” She faced him again. “Oh, yeah. I can’t seem to get the door open. I think it might be locked or something, but I wasn’t given a key.”

He’d expected her to deny that she was struggling, perhaps even blush, but the woman held a remarkable lack of self-shame.

Good thing he had more than enough to share.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Winnie took a step back as Matthew approached in silence.