Page 3 of Bryce

Upon arrival, Brycestaggered into his apartment, the door creaking with familiarity. Theloft, usually a sanctuary, now felt like a hollow shell.

He poured himself aglass of water and downed a couple of painkillers, hoping to dull thesharp edge of his hangover. The reflection staring back at him fromthe mirror was one of dishevelment and disarray - a stark reminder ofthe cost of his reckless escapade.

Bryce sank into thecouch, the leather cool against his skin. He knew he had to make achange, but the path to redemption seemed elusive. The morning lightfiltered through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room. Asthe day began to break, he resolved to confront his demons and seek away to reclaim his life from the throes of despair.

*****

She loved this timeof day. When the place was empty, and the guests were off for theday. She was upstairs checking the rooms, making sure that Arlene hadtidied up and emptied the trash. The woman was a part-time employee,only brought in when she and Jessica had their hands full.

Walking from onesuite to the next, Zahra lingered, taking in the apple greenwallpapers that she had put up herself and the sturdy furnishings shehad bought at several antique stores from neighboring towns. Therewere five suites in total and two bedrooms with a shared bathroom.

At one point theplace had been so booked that she had given up her own suite toaccommodate a couple who were on their honeymoon. That had been aone-off deal and something she had vowed never to do again.

She owned the inn.Trailing a hand over the sturdy doorframes, she stood there for aminute and let it sink in. It was hers. This delightfully quaint andsturdy structure with its pretty white walls and creaky stairsbelonged to her.

She had never ownedanything in her life, and it gave her such a thrill, that sometimesshe would wake up in the middle of the night and wondered if she wasdreaming.

As Zahra moved to thelast room on the floor, she paused before entering. This was herfavorite suite, with its large bay windows that offered a view of thesprawling gardens below. The morning sun streamed in, illuminatingthe room in a golden hue. She stepped inside, feeling the warmthenvelop her.

The suite wasdecorated in soft pastels, with delicate lace curtains framing thewindows and a plush armchair sitting invitingly in the corner.

Zahra had spentcountless hours perfecting every detail, ensuring that each guestwould feel at home. She admired the intricate patterns on the quiltedbedspread, a piece she had found during one of her trips to anantique market.

As she walked aroundthe room, Zahra’s mind wandered to the inn’s future. Sheenvisioned bustling weekends filled with laughter and the scent offresh pastries wafting from the kitchen.

She dreamed ofexpanding the garden, adding a little gazebo where guests could enjoytheir tea. The possibilities seemed endless, and for the first timein a long while, Zahra felt a sense of contentment.

She exited the suite,closing the door gently behind her, and went downstairs to preparefor the day.

The inn was quietnow, but soon it would come alive with the guests' arrival. Zahracherished these moments of solitude, knowing that they were fleetingyet precious. She took a deep breath, embracing the tranquilitybefore the storm of activity began.

In the kitchen, Zahraset about baking fresh scones and brewing coffee. The aroma filledthe air, a comforting reminder of the simple joys that life offered.As she worked, she reflected on the journey that had brought herhere, to this place of peace and fulfillment. It had not been easy,but it had been worth every struggle.

The day was justbeginning, and Zahra felt ready to face whatever it might bring. Shewas home, and that was all she needed.

*****

“For how long?”

Bryce turned awayfrom his contemplation of the high-rise buildings in his line ofvision to look at the tidy and compact woman seated at her largedesk. As his agent, Cynthia had his best interests at heart. Hisinstincts told him that, but he was also aware that he was a mealticket as well.

Whenever he mademoney, she profited. He could not complain of her treatment of him,and never wondered – well, perhaps he had wondered, if it wasbecause of his name. His daddy was Blaine Whitlock, directorextraordinaire and a force in the entertainment industry.

Bryce had workeddesperately to get out from under his father’s shadow and wouldlike to think that he had succeeded. He certainly hoped so.

He shrugged broadshoulders. “Three weeks, maybe four.”

Her jaded blue eyeswidened as she looked at him. “Are you out of your mind? Youjust wrapped up a block-buster movie, one that has critics and fanssalivating.

People, the press, Ihave Oprah calling to find out when she can book you for aninterview. NBC, CBS and several major networks want to have a sitdown with you and not to mention the many press parties…“

“Cancel all ofthem!” His eyes hardened as she opened her mouth to go on. “Imean it. Tell them whatever the hell you want, but I am leaving intwo days for unknown parts. I have done you the courtesy of tellingyou because you have been there for me, but my mind is made up. I amtired and need a bloody break, and I am taking it.”

Cynthia took a deepcareful breath to rein in her own temper. She was accustomed todealing with celebrities with their unreasonable demands andimpossible expectations, but to her surprise, Bryce Whitlock was notlike that.

He was thoughtful andmindful of stepping on anyone’s toes. He was conscientiousabout his work and made little to no demands. He certainly had notinherited those admirable attributes from his dear dad.

Blaine Whitlock wasruthless and frightening. People feared him and went of their way toavoid getting on his bad side.

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