“Well… you know I wasn’t great about doing as I was told.”
He swallowed, appreciating her honesty. Back then, she had balked at every rule and regulation. Unless she came up with the idea. But he also remembered a girl who flitted through the Inn from one task to the next with ease. He could picture her here, there, and everywhere. Always smiling and charming the employees and guests. He didn’t remember any complaints from anyone besides Xavier.
“I don’t think I officially worked a full shift. Ever.” She sighed. “Guess I really am as helpless and aimless as Dad said.”
Christopher hated the edge in her tone. While she was often self-deprecating, the reluctance and acceptance of failure didn’t align with the capable person he knew. “We all start at the bottom.”
She snorted. “Some of us keep slipping down no matter how hard we climb.” She smoothed her hair behind her ears and pressed her hands to her cheeks.
Was she trying not to cry? He wanted to comfort her but wasn’t sure how or if she’d welcome his consolation. He wasn’t pleased to see her at a disadvantage, especially not if he stood to benefit. “Okay. You’ve done enough today here. Maybe go to the boardwalk and see what you can learn.”
“You promise you’re not mad?” She wrinkled her nose.
He hated when she was so adorable. He was justifiably mad. She’d cut him off at the knees, losing a lifeguard chair. His beach had to close to his guests on an afternoon that was finally forecast to be warm enough for swimming. Guests would be displeased. His day was exponentially harder.
But how did he stay upset when she was so disappointed in herself? “I’m frustrated. It’s the second costly accident you’ve had in a week. I don’t quite understand how either happened.” He sighed. “I’m not mad.”
And he was surprised at the truth in the sentiment. But now he needed to find a couple strong swimmers to help him retrieve the chair, or he’d be in worse shape.
ChapterNine
Ashley wasn’t leaving the Inn because she’d given up or because she was following his orders. It just so happened that his suggestion to take the rest of the morning off and stop at the boardwalk had been her plan all along. Or so she’d repeat until the sentiment became a mantra as she headed on foot toward the shops a couple miles away.
Joggers and cyclists passed her as she followed the path along the shoreline. It was too early for other leisurely strollers. She filled her lungs with fresh air and let the cool morning breeze chill her hot skin. The morning couldn’t have gone worse. She’d been doing a decent enough job until she sank the lifeguard chair in the lake.Did he suspect her of sabotage or foolishness?She didn’t know which option was better.
At least he had taken the time to inspect the lighthouse.
He might not believe her fears about a ghost, and with another night in a warm, cozy bed, she wasn’t sure she believed it either, but he still investigated the scene. As she finished setting the cones, she lost sight of him. She’d returned the mesh bag to the shed and grabbed the lifeguard chair and umbrella. She wheeled the white chair out of the shed when motion caught her eye. Standing on tiptoes, she’d craned her neck to watch him exit the lighthouse and stepped away from the chair. Then disaster struck from a careless oversight.
It was the third mistake since Christopher handed her the folder yesterday. She hated to admit she was probably in over her head with the Inn. If she couldn’t run the resort, what else could she do? On her own, she hadn’t exactly blazed a trail to success. Rather, she’d slunk off and licked her wounds, waiting to return.
She shook her head as she reached the boardwalk, climbing the steps to the raised walkway and shops along the curve of the lakeshore. She wasn’t meant for menial tasks. As the boss, she’d be great, utilizing her skills of managing and charming people as the moment demanded. And she’d show him by interviewing the shopkeepers.
She wouldn’t mind a couple scoops of rocky road for breakfast. She wasn’t sure forcing him out was best for the Inn. And if she did, she wasn’t prepared to lead a mob of angry villagers behind her. But she wanted to hear what they said about him.
Pushing up the door of Scoops, There It Is, she was greeted with nineties R&B. She hummed along to the music. The decade of her birth was old enough to inspire a retro ice cream shop. When she was a kid, the store had been called Dig This and was decorated with flower power and groovy motifs. It was a rather depressing thought to realize her memories were now sepia-colored and vintage.
“Just one minute,” a deep voice called from the back.
The setting was photogenic enough for a prominent feature on her social media. Bright colors and nostalgia were always a hit with her followers. She froze. She hadn’t posted in weeks and hadn’t mentally composed anything for days.
I don’t need to.
She didn’t want to curate Loon Lake for the outside world. She didn’t want to stage and choreograph her life here. When she assumed control of the Inn, she’d utilize her skills for the benefit of marketing. In her day-to-day? She wanted to live.
She approached the counter, strolling by the display freezer at the tubs. Brightly colored bubble gum and mint cookie contrasted with the standards of chocolate, vanilla, and cookie dough. She scanned the names, spotting the selection of sorbets and sherbets, and frowned. Where was the rocky road?
“Yo! It’s a fresh day to keep it real. What may I—Ashley? Hey, didn’t know you were back.”
She lifted her head and spotted Zach Jenkins carrying a huge tub marked Rocky Road in loopy script. His uniform, a fluorescent-green t-shirt under bright-white overalls, one snap undone, followed the shop’s theme. She smiled at the blinding ensemble.
“Hi, Zach.” She smoothed her hair behind her ears. “Yep, just got back yesterday.” The lie tickled her tongue.
“Sorry for your loss. I know things were… complicated.” He frowned, depositing the tub in its place.
A few years older, Zach had been a senior when she was a freshman. She had always treated him as something of an elder statesman. With his love of giving opinions—or passing judgment, as Christopher often said—Zach had strong convictions and was always ready for a verbal fight.
“Thanks, I appreciate the sentiment,” she said smoothly. “I love the revamp.” She regretted tossing her old clothes. Her pleather boots would fit right in with the ice cream shop. She pulled a brightly colored scrunchie from her back pocket and tied her hair in a side pony.
