An Unexpected Love Story (Love Story Book Two) (7 page)

I paused. I hadn’t really thought of it that way. “And what if everyone had your attitude when it came to deciding where to stay? Oh, who cares that Murray’s Inn has some charm and personality—I’ll just sleep at the first motel I come across. It’s cheaper.”

“You’re right,” I said, feeling bad. I was so quick to brush his opinions aside when it came to running the inn. Part of that, I knew, was residual anger for the state he had allowed it to get into. But mostly it was just hubris, thinking I knew best. I sometimes forget that he had run the place beautifully for years before things got bad. “I’ll call Mom and ask her to go to Betty’s instead.”

“Good girl,” he said, patting my hand. “I appreciate it. You know, Betty helped me out of a few tight spots over the years. We really do owe her.”

I called my mom, just managing to catch her before she got to the store. She was slightly annoyed that she had to make the trip for nothing, but seemed to cheer up when I told her to go to Betty’s. They were old friends.

“Busy weekend, eh?” my dad asked, once I was off the phone. “Gonna be a full house over there?”

“Pretty much,” I agreed, taking a sip of my coffee. “I think we’re about ready.”

“Well, I’ll be around to help. You just let me know what needs doing.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I will.” When I had first come back, my dad had been unable to give up control. He had insisted on following me around constantly, second-guessing all my decisions. He had gotten much better in the last year or so. My mother had finally convinced him to take her on vacation—a Caribbean cruise—and he had seemed to realize just what he was giving up by refusing to retire. He was much more hands off nowadays, which made my job a lot easier.

I looked down at my watch and sighed. “Speaking of which, I better change and head back over there. The guests will be here soon.” I stood up and made my way toward the stairs. As I passed the side table in the hall, I noticed the answering machine light was flashing. “Hey, Dad,” I called out. “We have a message.”

“It’s probably nothing,” I heard him mumble from the kitchen. I pressed play anyhow.

“Mr. Murray, this is Conner Duggan again. I would very much like to speak to you regarding our offer. We are very eager to do business with you, Mr. Murray. I hope you’ll be in touch soon.”

I walked back to the kitchen and raised my eyebrows at my dad. “Who was that?”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, but he looked agitated. “Stupid sharks.”

“Dad, what’s going on?”

He sighed. “Some developer wants to buy the inn.”

My heart seemed to sink a few inches. “Really?”

“Yeah. They want to tear the whole thing down and put up a luxury spa.” He snorted. “Don’t know who they think is gonna wanna stay at a place like that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, Dad. Luxury resorts never do well.”

“Not around here they don’t.”

I looked at him closely. He still seemed agitated. “Are these people bothering you?”

He shrugged. “Not really. They just call a few times a week.”

“A few times a week?” I felt pissed suddenly. Who the hell did they think they were, harassing him like that? “Did you tell them that you weren’t interested?”

“I told them they could go kiss my ass.”

I grinned at him. “Good job.”

“Yeah, well. I can still hold my own.”

I walked back to the table and kissed the top of his head. “I know you can, Dad. I’m so proud of you.”

“All right, now,” he mumbled, sounding embarrassed. He patted my arm. “Go on. Get back to work. They need you over there.”

I smiled as I walked up the stairs. It might not have sounded like much, but coming from my dad, that was one of the best compliments I’d ever gotten.

Chapter Seven

The dining room was full and bustling that night.

Looking around at the room, I couldn’t help but feel a glow of pride. I hadn’t seen such a crowd since the leaves had fallen, taking the fall color, and those who traveled to see it, with them.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves,” Paul said, leaning against the bar. “Who knew video game freaks were so social?”

“Paul,” I said, a warning note in my voice.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I meant to say enthusiasts.”

“I think they’re kind of cute,” I said. “They all seem so happy to be here.”

“Yeah, probably ’cause they don’t get out much,” he said drily. I flicked his hand with my fingernails. “Sorry,” he said again.

“Hi, Brooke.”

I turned to see John approaching the bar. I was pleased to find that my throat did not go dry and I felt no need to start spluttering incoherently. Maybe I was becoming immune to his charms. Then he smiled at me.

Maybe not.

“How did your meeting go?” I asked, trying to keep my head. I wished Paul would make himself busy.

“Pretty good,” he said. He saw Paul and gave him a smile. It didn’t seem to have quite the same effect—Paul regarded him with the same blank expression he’d had before. “Hey, man,” John said. “Could I get a beer?”

“Sure,
man
,” Paul said. I tried not to groan.
Please, don’t let him get all territorial on me, not tonight
. “What will you have?”

“Bud light?”

I heard Paul snort, but he did it softly enough that John couldn’t hear—at least, I hoped so. Paul had very strong ideas about guys who willingly drank light beer. But he headed over to the tap nonetheless, and I could turn my attention more fully to John.

“So, are you still on duty?” he asked.

“Kind of,” I said. “We have a night manager, but when we’re this busy, I like to stick around until most of the guests have gone to bed.”

“This is an interesting crowd,” John said. “I’m disappointed not to see any costumes, though.”

I laughed. “They haven’t started gaming yet,” I told him. “Their first tourney starts after dinner.”

“Gaming?” he asked. “Look at you, all up on the lingo.”

I nudged him with my elbow. “Give me a break. I’ve been planning this for weeks.”

“Are you going to be joining in on any of these tourneys?”

“No. I am strictly on the other side of the desk for this one.”

We stood in comfortable silence for a moment. “That will be two fifty,” Paul said suddenly, plopping John’s beer down on the bar and spilling a portion of it in the process. I glared at him, and he smiled sweetly back at me.

“Can you add it to my tab?” John asked, a slight edge in his voice. So he
had
picked up on Paul’s attitude. “I’m in the suite.”

“Sure thing,” Paul said, and I caught a distinct roll of his eyes as he turned away.

“Sorry,” I said to John, knowing he had noticed, too. “Paul’s not the most social bartender in the world.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” John said drily, taking a sip of his drink. We sat in silence for a moment, watching the bustle of the dining room.

“You look nice tonight,” John said eventually, his eyes noticeably flickering down over my outfit. I felt a little thrill at his words. I had changed into one of my favorite outfits, a slim black pencil skirt and a silk white blouse. With my best pair of knock-off Louboutins, I was maybe overdoing it a little bit, but if John wasn’t complaining, neither was I.

“Miss Murray?” I turned to see Kyle, the president of the association, approaching the bar.

“Hi, Kyle,” I said warmly, reaching out to shake his hand. “Please, call me Brooke. How is everything going?”

“Great,” he said, nodding. Kyle seemed like a really nice guy, probably in his early thirties. He had a habit of nodding a lot when he got excited, which meant his head had pretty much been bobbing since he got here. He and I had spent quite a bit of time on the phone over the previous weeks, firming up all the details of the event. “I just wanted to make sure the screens were set up in the lobby.”

“Yup,” I said. “I just came from there, everything is good to go. Are you going to get started soon?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding again. “I think dinner is pretty much wrapping up. I should probably make an announcement before we get going.”

“I’ll go and get you the microphone,” I said, standing up. Nodding once more, Kyle returned to his seat to finish his dinner. I grinned at John apologetically. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, spreading his arms out. “I wouldn’t miss this.”

The tournament got off to a spirited start. We had set up large projection screens throughout the lobby and conference room, and the gamers were grouped together in several pools, from which the winners would be chosen to compete in the semi-finals. They were playing a game I had never heard of before, involving a lot of trolls and wizards, whose name I had already forgotten. It wasn’t exactly my thing, but I had to admit they looked like they were having a lot of fun. Those who had been knocked out already and those who weren’t playing in this round wandered between the screens, shouting encouragement and derision at the players. I had the wait staff constantly refilling bowls of chips and platters of brownies, and Paul was kept busy pouring beer.

“You know,” he said to me a few hours later, when I finally caught up to him at the bar. He looked tired but happy. “These guys are really growing on me. I think this is kinda fun.”

“Their enthusiasm is contagious, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and they’re tipping like nobody’s business.” I laughed. “I was talking to that Kyle guy, and he said when this round is over they’re gonna open it up to free play. He said I could have a turn if I wanted to check it out.”

“Not so high and mighty about the freaks anymore, I see.”

Paul shrugged. “What can I say? I know a good time when I see it.”

I was even more surprised on my next tour of the lobby when I saw John sitting in a large group of players, a controller in his hand, as a skinny guy in a Firefly T-shirt explained to him how to get past the fire-breathing dragon on the screen. Still in his suit pants and tie, he looked completely out of place amongst the nerdy guys in their jeans and T-shirts, but the look of utter concentration on his face as he listened to the instructions was beyond cute. I watched as his avatar died on screen before John looked up. Catching my eye, he shrugged, grinning.

I had assumed the gamers would call it a night eventually, but by midnight they seemed nowhere near ready to throw in the towel. I had kicked off my heels an hour ago, and was now curled up in one of the love seats, watching as Kyle’s avatar pulled the head off a dwarf. I cheered along with everyone else in the room.

“Their stamina is impressive,” John said, coming to sit next to me. I smiled at him in the dim light, then yawned hugely before I could stifle it. “Tired?”

“Just a little,” I said, smiling sheepishly. “It’s been a long day. You did pretty good over there.”

“You know, it was really fun,” he said, laughing. “My video game play is usually restricted to Madden, but I might just download this.”

“You should,” I said, nudging his shoulder with my own. The contact sent a little chill down my arm. “You were clearly a very talented Elf.”

“Excuse me,” he said, sniffing. “I was a Woodsmen. Totally different mythological creature.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “How could I be so daft?”

“So what are these wild and crazy kids up to tomorrow?”

“I believe in the morning they’ve scheduled some, ah, paper and pencil games.”

It was quiet for a beat. “When you say paper and pencil, you mean Dungeons and Dragons, don’t you?”

“I believe that’s one of the options, yes.”

John swore quietly. “It is so unfair that I have to miss that for a work meeting.”

“You tease, but look at how much fun you had tonight. For all you know, you might love the D&D.” I yawned again and John followed suit.

“You have to stop doing that,” he said, stretching. “Yawning is contagious, you know.”

I suddenly became hyper-aware of his thigh, slightly brushing mine after his stretch. I noticed that he didn’t move away, and I felt my heart start to beat ever so slightly faster.

“You’re the one who should be tired,” I said, trying to keep my mind off the other parts of his body I wished I were touching. “You had quite a drive today.”

John didn’t answer. His attention seemed to be caught by something on the other side of the room. “Is that guy your boyfriend?” I turned in the direction he was looking and saw Paul sitting with a group of gamers drinking a beer.

“Paul?” I said, surprised.

“The bartender, yeah,” John said, still not looking at me.

“No,” I said quickly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” As I said the words, I felt a rush of shame. It was true—Paul hadn’t been my official boyfriend since high school. But that, of course, wasn’t the whole story of our relationship. I had a sudden flash of leaving Paul’s apartment. God, had that been just this morning? Maybe Justine
was
right about me. I had spent the night with Paul only last night and now was sitting here flirting with some stranger, wishing things could go farther. What was wrong with me?