Page 14 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
I step into the kitchen for a cup of water and a breather. I’m leaning against the counter, sipping slowly from my cup and staring out the window when someone appears.
“Should I be worried you’re here moping while everyone is out there having fun?”
I turn, instantly grinning. “Dad!”
Sam Hartwell stands in the doorway, wiping his hands on a rag that looks suspiciously like one of my dish towels. He’s still wearing his work shirt—dusty, rolled sleeves, buttons mismatched. A screwdriver peeks out of his back pocket like it’s permanently installed.
Seeing him always settles something in my chest.
“I thought I heard you stomping around back here,” he says, coming over to peek into the cup. “This is what you do for fun now? Is the water infused with anything?” He peers suspiciously.
“It’s either this or cry into a bag of scone mix,” I answer. “And oh, I wish it were infused with something.”
He chuckles and reaches out to ruffle my hair—like I’m still twelve and not managing a whole inn.
“Where’s Mom?” I ask.
He jerks his chin toward the parlor. “She’s out front, trying to convince Edie that rosemary belongs in everything. Including, apparently, lemon bars.”
I snort. “Of course she is.”
He gives me a long look, softening. “You’ve got eye bags, kid.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“No, I mean it. Big ones. Like carry-on luggage. You sleeping at all?”
“Trying.”
He nods, not pushing. That’s his way. He’s quiet, but he sees everything.
“I’ll come fix this drawer tomorrow,” he says, nodding at the drawer I didn’t even know needed fixing. “It’s getting weak.”
I smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
He taps the countertop twice, then looks at me with that dry, amused expression I’ve known my whole life.
“Go to bed before midnight tonight, huh?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He raises a brow. “Thinking doesn’t count unless it leads to doing.”
Then he gives me a kiss on the cheek, waves a little salute, and heads out the side door again. I turn to look out the window again, mulling over his words.
Thinking doesn’t count unless it leads to doing.
As always, Sam Hartwell leaves me with words of wisdom. But then, they’re just words. There are so many things I have to do tonight to ensure smooth running tomorrow, and so for now, I can only catch these few moments of peace before going out there again to face the world.
Am I complaining? Maybe.
But this is what I signed up for when I left Bardstown.
CAL
I’m unshaven, underslept, and three hours into this rental car journey from O’Hare when the map app chimes that I’m just minutes from the Key & Kettle Inn.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
