Page 64 of Nice Guys Don't Kiss Like That At Christmas
“It’s all under control.”Her smile stretches just a little too far.“But the plumber called.The east-side pipes might need a few more days.Maybe through Christmas Eve.”
“Seriously?”
She winces.“He found something behind the wall.Probably from 1984.I’m hoping it’s not a real ghost.Or some sort ofAmityville Horrorsituation.”
I blink and Sally continues, “We do ghosts and scary stories for Halloween so it could work, but it’s gruesome.”
“Is it safe?But the plumbing…”
“Safe?Yes.But acoustically… not ideal for romance.”
She lowers her voice.“Which is why, if it’s okay with you, I’d love if you and Adam could keep the honeymoon suite.Just a few more days.If she sees people moving out early…of the honeymoon suite.”
“It looks like the place isn’t booked.”
“Exactly.”Her voice brightens, too bright.“Or as I said...just bad vibes all around.But you two?You’re doing great.Very cozy.Romantic but not cloying.Enough tension.I saw you passing the scones yesterday.Oscar-worthy.”
I rub a hand over my face.“We passed each other napkins as I was on my way out and he was going in.We barely spoke.”
“It had longing.”
I exhale.“Okay.Well, I don’t know about Adam.But I’m okay with staying.”
Relief floods her expression.“Thank you.I’ll totally bring the mattress.I know you two haven’t been on the same schedule.Also… sorry for the Googling.I didn’t mean to pry.Okay, I did.But that hospital thing?That wasn’t on you.”
My spine stiffens.“You saw the review?”
“I read between the lines,” she says gently.“Looked like someone trying to do the right thing in a place that didn’t deserve you.”
I can’t respond to that.Not without throwing something.Chuck’s Dad left a review with my name.Saying the place was much better now that I left.
So instead I nod.“Let me know if you need anything.”
“I already have what I need,” Sally says, squeezing my arm.“A hot couple and a heartwarming story.If at some point you guys could make googly eyes near the banister, it’d be great.She loves architectural romance shots.”
The reviewer looks up, catching us watching her.Sally immediately beams.“More hot chocolate, dear?I was telling our honeymoon guest about our traditional Christmas pipe concert later!”
I escape before I can be recruited into whatever Christmas pipe concert Sally’s inventing on the spot.
Chapter twenty
EVE
I’vebeensurvivingonRosie’s delicious food all week, stealing moments of normalcy between patient visits and constant self-criticism.Today, the café is packed with the lunch rush, festive garlands hanging from every available surface, and Christmas music fighting to be heard over the buzz of conversation.
“The soup of the day with a pear salad, Eve?”Rosie calls from behind the counter, already reaching for a bowl.In days, I’ve become predictable.But today’s soup of the day is a curried sweet potato soup with coconut milk, apples and the smell is amazing.Plus, the pear salad has blue cheese crumbles and pecans with a touch of honey and balsamic vinegar.
The Cuban sandwich was mouthwatering, but the rest of the menu has been equally as impressive.
“Yes, please.And maybe a—”
“Water with no ice, and a Columbian decaf with homemade coconut creamer and whipped cream?”Rosie finishes with a wink.“Coming right up.”She hands me my coffee and as I find a table by the window, the bell over the door jingles.In walks a man with light brown hair and a confident stride that draws glances from several women nearby.He surveys the room and zeroes in on me.
“You must be Eve Foster,” he says.“The nurse from Chicago everyone’s talking about.”
I straighten in my chair, mustering a professional smile.“That’s me.”
“Frank Mitchell.”He extends his hand, and his grip lingers a beat too long.“I handle insurance for half the businesses in town.Including the clinic where you’re working.”
