Mr. Willie attached the keys to his belt via a retractable clip. “I’ve fixed a few leaky pipes and patched the roof over there. Not much else.”
Good.The ramshackle décor had been thrown together out of necessity. Christopher had money now and could easily fix up the place. He could rip out the mismatched cabinets and tear out the broken tiles, leveling the floor. But she hated to think anything had changed. The cottage remained a perfectly intact love nest, waiting for their reconciliation. “What are you doing now?”
“Oiling the hinges and scraping off the flaky paint.” He flicked his fingers to the fence. “Touch up with a coat of spray paint for the time being. Until I can get more time.” He dropped the canister into his bag and faced her. “Why are you back?”
“Why not?” She shrugged.
“Weren’t you off having adventures? Nothing adventurous around here. Same old, same old.” He shook his head.
“Mr. Willie, do I hear regret?” She was intrigued. He wasn’t a person to her as much as a living, breathing symbol of authority. He was his role. But even Mr. Willie had hopes and dreams.
“Lass, I’m not one for wishing my life away.” He shook his head. “Why come back if not to take over? What are you going to change?”
“Why do you think I intend to shake things up?”
He chuckled. “Isn’t that your MO?”
She would have blushed. But a surprisingly cheeky grin hadn’t accompanied his rhetorical question and softened the delivery. “Well, I can assure you. I have nothing planned. Not a thing,” she said.Except everything to do with my dad’s plan.Perhaps that was unfair. Just because she was haunted by ghosts didn’t mean anyone else was. She couldn’t toss out everything that worked to satisfy her need for exorcism. And, more than likely, it was impossible. “Any suggestions?”
“Ha. Right there.” He waggled a beefy finger. “Do you see? You’ve got a clear advantage. The difference between you two. What’s lacking now? Since you left, it’s been one vision, and that’s it. Either we fall in line, or we leave. You are open to ideas. You’ll go a long way.”
It was also part of why she left. She’d grown tired of trying to get her father’s approval and be welcomed into the fold of upper management. Once Dad had taken her husband under his wing, she had had to work for Christopher as well. Had she been missed? She’d ponder the idea later.
“As long as you don’t focus on anything too trendy,” Mr. Willie said. “Of course.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your photos and posts. You seem very involved on those websites. Life is about a lot more than a pretty picture. I’d rather not chase guests out of restricted areas because they are snapping selfies.”
Her skin burned. While she happily asked for details about her husband, she couldn’t forget she was also under close observation. Her movements were open for public dissection. She’d done that. If Mr. Willie followed her exploits online, everyone in town must do the same. She’d left her profiles public, hoping to reach her husband as he scrolled online, spurring him into missing her.
She had thousands of followers and interacted with many of them. But she didn’t know the commenters on a personal level. Performing for a faceless crowd was easy. Sharing her hopes and fears with the people she knew best was terrifying. She aimed for vague wording so no one saw through perfection to the loneliness.
She knew she was a lot. She had a history of doubling down on her mistakes. She wasn’t sure if she wanted redemption or a second chance. Both worked.
“I better get started on my list.”
“No more popcorn?” He winced.
She rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Mr. Willie.”
* * *
The morning never quite dawned. With a frown, Christopher blew across the steaming mug of coffee as he surveyed the lawn behind the Inn. Under the overcast sky, the grass shone with a vibrant green more brilliant than the rest of the surroundings.
The lake, on the other hand, was gray and angry. He shared an affinity with the body of water. The choppy surface reflected his inner turmoil. He’d done so much work for so long. She pinned her future on his departure.
He raised the mug and sipped, letting the dark roast wash the bitter taste from his mouth. For so long, she’d been his motivation. When she never contacted him about a divorce, she gave him the false impression she’d return one day.
The woman haunting the lighthouse wasn’t the same that captured his heart. And yet, he wasn’t dissuaded. She changed. He had, too. But they had this time together now. Whether Xavier intended to or not, he had brought them back together. Christopher wondered if they could find something better together than the emotional stasis they’d achieved apart.
Movement across the shoreline caught his attention. He raised his hand, shielding his gaze as he squinted. She might as well have been a mirage.
Dragging a mesh bag behind her, she set up the cones along the perimeter of the swimming area.
The lake wasn’t the sole domain of the Inn. As much as he had tried to claim it, he couldn’t. And Xavier hadn’t wanted the monopoly on water sports and activities. While the Prims were frustrating, they ran a solid business alongside the Inn, catering to the guests. The Inn and the Prims squabbled over the years, but Xavier had been happy to keep the uneasy partnership.
Maybe he’d been correct. Adding a whole new set of costs to the business when it wouldn’t necessarily increase revenue was a poor choice. Christopher wanted to be the undisputed ruler of all. She wasn’t wrong when she’d called him out for micromanaging.
