I shake my head. “Some people never learn.”
Grady grins. “You’re telling me. But hey, if Savannah sticks around and doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty, she might be the solution to a lot of our problems. Just saying.”
“Right.” I push off the workbench. “First, let’s get her damn car running. Then we’ll see about her sticking around.”
Grady laughs as I turn toward the van, his words trailing after me. “Just don’t let her get away, Todd. You get a chance like that, you don’t waste it. Around here, it might be years before the next one comes along.”
Chapter7
Savannah
The hallway is stunning, a mix of old craftsmanship and crisp modern updates. The arched staircase immediately draws my attention, its polished wooden banister gleaming in the light spilling through the stained-glass window above the front door. Ornate carvings run along the rail, the kind you don’t see in cookie-cutter houses. There’s detailed molding on the ceiling, too, but the white walls, high ceilings, and sleek lighting give it a fresh, updated feel. I pause and run my fingers over the banister, appreciating the smooth finish and the weight of something built to last.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Diana’s pride is obvious as she glances over her shoulder at me. “My husband’s a talented woodworker. He restored most of it himself.”
I blink, surprised.Really? He doesn’t exactly look the part.Elliot seems more like a college professor to me, and when we shook hands, I didn’t feel any calluses or other indications that he works with his hands.
A mysterious smile flickers across Diana’s face, but she continues up the staircase, trailing her hand along the banister. “We’ve been renovating the house for years. Everyone added their personal touches. Elliot worked on the kitchen, Mason handled the carpentry, Jack did landscaping, and I designed the bedrooms and bathrooms.”
I frown but otherwise don’t show my confusion. Who are Mason and Jack?
We stop at the first door on the left on the second floor. The moment Diana opens it, my questions melt away, replaced by awe.
The room is stunning. It’s spacious, light, and tranquil. The soft carpet underfoot muffles our steps as I take in the details. The bed, a massive wooden frame with a quilt in vibrant blues and cream, doesn’t dominate the space but instead feels like a centerpiece in a well-thought-out design. A small sitting area in the corner features two cozy armchairs and a round table. Across from the bed stands a large dresser, its wood matching the other furniture, and beside the window is a desk with some stationery, a folder, and a single-cup coffeemaker.
Diana notices where my gaze lingers. “Coffee’s also available downstairs, but some people don’t like company before their first caffeine.”
I snort softly. “Oh, I’m definitely one of those people.”
She laughs. “In that case, use it freely.”
I look back to the bed. “This is... much better than I expected.”
Diana’s smile widens. “I’m glad you like it. Fresh towels are in the bathroom, but if you need more, just let us know.” She motions toward a door in the corner, opening it to reveal a pristine bathroom with a gigantic shower, a toilet, a sleek sink, and a neatly folded stack of towels on the rack.
“It’s perfect.” I’m a little overwhelmed by the warmth and care put into every detail. I didn’t have high expectations, given this is the only B&B.
Diana lingers for a moment longer. “I heard about your ordeal. Mel told me a bit. I’m so sorry for the trouble you’ve had.”
“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “I’m just glad to be here. I hope to have my rental car back soon, though.”
“Well, it came in about an hour ago. Elliot will take you to the garage after you’ve settled in. In the meantime, why don’t you get comfortable? When you’re ready, come downstairs for real coffee, a slice of cherry pie, and some company. All are part of the package and free of charge.” She laughs and heads for the hallway.
“Thanks,” I murmur, watching as she closes the door behind her.
I wander the room, unpacking toiletries into the bathroom and hanging up a few garments in the small closet. The space feels too perfect for me, like I don’t quite belong here. I brush my hands over the quilt, lingering on the vibrant stitching, and my thoughts drift to everything I’ve left behind.
I grab my phone from my bag and scroll through missed calls and finally press Mom’s number. She picks up on the first ring.
“Anna! Finally. I’ve been worried sick.”
“Sorry.” I sink into one of the armchairs. “Long story, but I’m in Northwick Cove now.”
“What’s it like?”
I glance out the window at the snow-dusted street below. The town’s charm feels almost suffocating, but I’m not going to allow that to slip through. “Quiet. Quaint. It’s... pretty in its own way. Different from Miami.”
“And you?” Mom’s voice softens. “How are you holding up?”