Page 9 of The Dangers of Daydreaming

But something held me back from mentioning him: a desire to figure out just what mid-twenties Finn was like before I had to justify the weird safety I felt around him.

Especially since there was currently a toddler impersonating a tap dancer on the back of my seat.

Finn glanced back in the rearview mirror, catching me watching him. I quickly pretended I was just looking out the windshield.

The van rocked as we pulled onto a dirt road. A colorful wooden sign with scalloped edges readThe Seaside Barn and Breakfast, and behind it rose a beautiful three-story farmhouse. It sat, almost cradled in a semicircle of blossoming trees that extended back as far as the eye could see. A handful of other buildings were scattered amidst the orchard—one that seemed to be a small house and another red, quintessential barn were the most prominent.

It looked like a postcard.

The van pulled to a stop, and I circled it to grab my bag from the back. Finn was already there, pulling out everyone’s luggage. He handed me my bag.

“Thanks,” I said, a bit awkwardly. What was I supposed to do with this version of my junior high nemesis? Yeah, I knew people grew up and grew out of immaturity (some of them, at least), but I was having a hard time reconciling the Finn in my head with the one currently in my face.

Which reminded me that I was staring again. And I think he was silently laughing at me.

I backed away, extending the handle of my rolling suitcase and pulling it behind me, bumping over small rocks as I made my way to the front of the inn. It was adorable. A porch ran the length of the first story, a gable jutted out with a singular window on the third floor, and flowers surrounded the front while trees hugged the back.

The first step creaked a little as I made my way up, but the door swung open on well-oiled hinges, revealing a wide, wood-paneled entry with cased openings on either side. One passed what looked like a dining room, and another was furnished with bookshelves and comfy chairs. Directly in front of me, next to a doorway further into the house, was a long desk with a young woman behind it, smiling.

“Welcome to the Seaside Barn and Breakfast. Can I help you get checked in?” The cute girl had braces ringed in pink rubber bands and was wearing a light green branded T-shirt that matched the sign outside.

“Yes, thank you. I need to book a room…” For how long? It made the most sense to settle in for the full two weeks, but that also meant seeing Finn for that long. Maybe. Maybe all he did was pick up tours. I might not see him again or hardly at all. “For two weeks,” I finished, deciding.

“Perfect, we have our gable room available for that time.” She went over the cost and details, and I filled out all the paperwork and was given a key.

“Oh, and do you have Wi-Fi I can connect to?” I needed to get started booking tours and planning my trip.

“Oh yes,” she said, lifting her hands to look across the counter at several different piles of papers. She moved some aside, grabbing a small paperclipped stack. She pulled one out. “I should have given you one of these already, sorry.” Her expression seemed so disappointed.

“It’s no problem at all, I’m just here on a work trip, so I know I’ll need the information.”

Her smile returned, and she gestured to the room to her side. “If you want, you can work in the lounge here. This used to be a working farm in the 1800s, and there are lots of fun trinkets and even pictures from its history. Plus, the Wi-Fi is way better down here than up in the rooms.”

“Oh, awesome, I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

With my check-in papers in one hand and suitcase handle in the other, I headed for the narrow staircase. The gable room was up two flights, and the walk was just as cute as everything else here. Dark hardwood treads showed to either side of a red carpet runner down the middle of the stairs. The stairwell wall was covered in framed photos. I glanced at them as I went—there were landscape pictures and some cute little sayings, but mostly it was a compilation of tons and tons of different people. Large groups down to individuals. Probably people who had stayed at the B&B in the past. A couple was in the center of each one.

Finn’s afore-mentioned grandparents? There was a bit of familial resemblance there, in the grandpa’s height and the grandma’s smile.

The landing was small with just one bedroom door that was a little shorter than the others in the house, but when I pushed it open, I couldn’t imagine a better place to stay. Soft, warm light bathed the wallpapered room. Dark wood furniture and a patchwork quilt were the stars of the show, but some beautiful pictures of what I assumed were sights around the island decorated the walls, and the window on the far side was open, setting the gauzy curtains swirling against the wood floors.

It was like a scene straight from a book. I stepped in almost reverently, the quaint room bringing countless scenarios to mind: a governess coming to stay at a new employer’s home, an orphan getting their own room for the first time, a trio of sisters finding a spellbook in their attic—it did have a bit of aCharmedfeeling to it.

It was perfect.

I put a few things in the dresser and wardrobe and sat on the bed. There were no messages from Shannon or anyone at the company. If I didn’t hear anything by tomorrow, I’d look into an Uber, or whatever the Canadian version was, to get to a rental car company and get a car myself. The company could reimburse me. For now though, I needed to getworking. And with limited international data, that meant going downstairs and connecting to the Wi-Fi.

The lounge was just as homey and cute as everything else. I tucked myself onto a sofa by the stone fireplace and opened my computer, enjoying the cluttered shelves around me full of books in varying states of decay plus several of the trinkets Stephanie had mentioned. Cups and saucers, old pictures, crocheted doilies, figurines.

I put in the Wi-Fi password and pulled up my previously made lists and a few bookmarked tours I wanted to consider. Obviously, Green Gables would be the highlight of my company’s tour. However, there were also locations important to Lucy Maud Montgomery: Charlottetown and other places mentioned in the books. A thrill of excitement tingled its way up my spine. These were places that had previously only existed in my head, and if the curse was done having its way with me, the rest of the trip could be wonderful. Something about being here felt like one of my daydreams turned reality.

My phone buzzed, but I finished my list before picking it up. It was the last in a line of several texts from my cousins.

Chloe: Crossing my fingers it’s not the eternal sleep for you! Please send proof of life in the morning.

Dani: I need all the details. Who’d you hitch a ride with? How attractive is he? Inquiring minds (who are currently avoiding writing deadlines) want to know…

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