"Now, come to think of it, I never actually asked her about work.” She bit the side of her mouth. “The topic never came up. Do you need me to ask her about it?"
"No need," Owen said quickly, waving a hand to dismiss the suggestion. "I have her full resume right here. I was just wondering if you knew anything about her background, that's all."
"So Isabel wants a summer job?" Linda said with a bright smile returning to her face. “She does seem like the type that doesn’t like being idle for too long”
"Actually, in her cover email, Isabel indicated that she's looking to move to Sweet Blossom Bay permanently," Owen told her.
Linda's eyes widened with genuine delight. "That would be absolutely wonderful!” She looked at Owen. “Michael and I just decided to move back home for good, too. It's going to be so great for Emma to be here as well."
"This town is the best place for kids to grow up," Owen stated. A sudden, soft pang of old regret tightened in his chest. It was a quiet reminder of the family he had never managed to build for himself. He shook the feeling off and glanced at his wristwatch. "Is that the time? Isabel should be arriving soon."
A strange feeling of excitement spread through his system, but he ignored it, putting it down to relief that he may have found some help with the cafe.
"Let me clear out and give you some space," Linda told him, stacking the last of her papers into a neat pile.
"No, really, Linda, I can easily use the dining room," Owen insisted.
"Nonsense," Linda said, already moving around the desk and heading for the door. "I'll go find Rosa so she can get you refreshments."
Owen knew it was pointless to argue with her once her mind was set. He took the chair Linda had just vacated, spreading out the resume pages and reviewing his interview points. He had juststarted going through his interview questions when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Owen called out.
Linda popped her head around the frame, smiling warmly. "Isabel is here."
"Thank you, Linda," Owen said, standing up, the excitement he’d been trying to squash growing.
Isabel stepped into the office, and Owen felt his chest tighten. She was even more beautiful than he remembered from the festival, her dark eyes bright and her linen trousers perfectly styled. When she offered him a warm smile, his stomach knotted with a sudden wave of nerves.
"Hello, Dr. Reed," Isabel greeted him, stepping into the center of the room. "It's good to see you again."
"Please, call me Owen," Owen told her, stepping around the desk to extend his hand.
The moment their fingers brushed, a sharp, sudden spark zapped up his arm, the unexpected contact making his pulse quicken. He didn't pull away awkwardly. He prided himself on how he managed to gracefully release her small hand instead of ripping it away as if he’d been burned.
"Can I get either of you anything to drink?" Linda asked, still hovering in the doorway.
"Just some water for me, thank you," Isabel answered.
"I'll have a water too, thank you, Linda," Owen added.
"I'll send Rosa with it," Linda told them, closing the door quietly behind her as she left.
Owen sat back down, forcing his professional focus to take over while Isabel took the seat in front of him, and the interview began. They relaxed into each other's company surprisingly fast, the initial tension melting away as they started to talk. He looked down at the first page of her file, his eyes tracking her academic credentials.
"I see from your resume that you're an architect specializing in historical buildings," Owen observed, leaning forward.
Isabel nodded, her expression lighting up as she began to talk about her past projects. Owen found his underlying suspicion fading with every sentence. His own lifelong love of history extended deeply into grand architecture, and they spent the next fifteen minutes completely lost in a discussion about ancient structural preservation. He found himself increasingly intrigued by her intelligence and her easy, conversational rhythm. But he knew he still had to ask the hard questions.
The room went quiet for a moment as Owen shifted the folders.
"Isabel, why exactly are you stepping away from your obviously high position at the Wayne Group to become a café manager?" Owen asked, watching her face closely.
Isabel didn't hesitate for a single second.
"I've spent years navigating that corporate world," Isabel explained, her voice steady and sincere. "But I've always wanted to have a small coffee shop attached to a bookstore. I love reading, and I love the atmosphere inside a cozy coffee shop. It's the kind of place where you truly come to know your regular customers and get to wonder about the new ones just passing through. I want that simple life."
Owen sat entirely mesmerized by the soft light in her eyes as she spoke. He had to mentally shake himself to stay grounded. He remembered the explicit warnings Anna had delivered at the café earlier about the competitive corporate threats. This entire arrangement felt entirely too coincidental to be an accident, and a part of him wondered if Isabel's sudden application for the manager position on the same day she was moving into the hotel was some sort of trap.
