“I can see why,” I say, looking at honeycomb wallpaper. Every so often is hung a large, crocheted bee. A sign over the bed says, “Love is Sweet in the Honeybee Suite.”
“Thank you again for your help,” Chloe says. She waves before leaving the room to head downstairs.
I yawn, realizing how exhausted my body is. Nothing like being woken up in the middle of the night to a flood.
The sun ishigh in the sky when I wake up the next morning, and while I’m not as rested as I was the first few days of my stay, at least I got enough sleep to make up for the late-night cleanup session.
I dress and make my way downstairs, avoiding looking at any more of the kitschy pieces in the room. They creep me out a bit.
There are only a few items on the breakfast table, which is a change from the other mornings. I can understand why, though. No time to prep a lot of options during the aftermath of a flood.
I take a muffin and a glass of orange juice to the table.
Brock walks out of the kitchen, armed with several tools. “Morning,” he says, with a dip of his head.
“Morning. Do you need help?”
“I should be good for now but thank you.” He marches up the stairs, a squeak sounding with every step.
Chloe walks out, looking worried.
“Guten Morgen,” I say, trying to cheer her up.
“Good morning, Max. I’m so sorry about last night.”
I wave it off. “You’ve already apologized for something you had no control over.”
She frowns. “Well, my regrets aren’t quite done yet. In order to fix that side of the hall with all the bedrooms, we’ll need to move out the furniture. It will all be stored in the other bedrooms while we’re renovating…” Her voice trails off, but I can understand what she’s trying to say.
“I don’t get to stay in the Honeybee Honeymoon Suite.” It’s hard to keep a straight face when I’m saying something like that.
“We can help you find somewhere else to stay,” Chloe adds, her expression soft with concern.
I wave it off. “You’ve got enough to deal with. I’ll figure something out. I do have a small background in building, so you have my number if you need help.”
“Thank you,” she says, managing a small smile.
I pack my things quickly and leave some cash on the nightstand as a tip. Then I carry everything out to the car, so I won’t be in their way.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, I pull out my phone and start searching for accommodations nearby. I go through several listings, calling the ones that don’t say closed at ten o’clock in the morning. Nothing is currently available, which I find strange, given that the town isn’t bursting with people yet.
But then the question hits me?—
Why do I need to stay here?
I could leave. Go somewhere else. Actually take a vacation.
And yet…I don’t want to.
There’s too much tied up here now.
The flats. The project. The few people who need help.
Avery.
Still, my chief business is back in New York. I can’t stay here indefinitely. Not without a solid plan and a firm decision made.
I grab my keys and drive to the coffee shop, hoping I’ll figure something out along the way.
