Gah, it was way too quiet.
Except for the crickets outside.Thosewere loud. She openedher eyes and stared up at the pale blue shadows of the lace canopy. She wished there was better cell coverage. It had been a long, slightly strange day, exactly the kind of day that required texts. She wanted to tell Crystal about the sad state of the B&B. She wanted to hear what Maddy would say about Jack. She’d probably say,No rebound guy. Look after yourself.And she’d point out that Jack didn’t seem to like her very much—or didn’t seem to want to like her, which was almost the same thing. She didn’t need another guy she had to convince to value her. Calisa imagined telling Ethan about the broom closet, and she knew whathe’dsay. He’d claim it was all in her head. She thought of how he’d immediately tried to tell her she hadn’t seen what she’d seen before he even had his hand fully out from under Jocelyn Pullman’s shirt. “I can explain” were the first words out of his mouth, before he unleashed a string of lies that she’d wanted to believe so badly but couldn’t when the truth was so obvious.
I saw what I saw.
Hadn’t she?
She heard a clatter outside her room and a soft “Oof.”
Calisa pushed the covers off and clicked on the light. It sounded like Jack hadn’t actually gone to sleep, which was excellent since there was no way she was falling asleep anytime soon, not with the way her thoughts kept bouncing around in her skull, and if she lay here in the dark and the silence too long, she’d begin to brood. Or worse, mope. She had zero intention of moping while she was here, whether it was for three days or the entire summer.
She paused at the door, glancing down at her nightshirt and flannel shorts. The shirt was emblazoned with the silhouetteof a superhero and a robot beneath the words “Fight Evil, Read Books.” No holes. No stains.Eh, it’s fine.She didn’t want to delay to change into clothes and risk Jack heading back upstairs before she had the chance to talk with him again.
Taking her key, Calisa slipped into the hallway. The carpet felt like moss under her bare feet. It silenced her footsteps, making her feel like she was tiptoeing, even though she wasn’t. She passed by the stairs, through the lobby, and into the kitchen.
Standing at the counter amid the stacks of pots and bowls was a fifty-to-sixty-year-old man, as thin as a skeleton, with wild white hair that poked out at all angles and skin so pale he looked nearly translucent. He was wearing all black—a black turtleneck, black slacks, and a single black gem earring—and humming “Ain’t No Sunshine” as he poured milk into a bowl.
He had to be one of the guests.
“Hi,” Calisa said.
“Gah!” His hand shook as he jumped, and milk splashed onto the counter. “Oh dear.”
“Sorry!” Calisa rushed forward and grabbed a towel from next to the sink. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She mopped up the spilled milk while he fluttered near her, flapping his arms like a bird.
“What a mess, what a shame,” he said.
“It’s fine. No worries.”
“Oh no, dear girl, you shouldn’t have to clean my disaster,” he said. But she’d already finished. It hadn’t been more than a spatter—the towel was barely damp. “Very kind of you. Yes, indeed. I am grateful.”
“I’m the one who startled you,” Calisa said. “Not your fault, and not a disaster at all.”
“Of course, yes, of course.” He beamed at her.
She smiled back, feeling awkward. What was a brand-new B&B employee supposed to say to a guest? Should she offer to help? Give him privacy? Ask if he was having a pleasant stay? She hoped he didn’t report back to Auntie Zee that she’d startled him.
“What drew you out here, in the still of the night?” he asked. “Did I disturb your slumber?” He dropped his voice at the wordslumber,as if he feared she was still asleep.
“It’s like nine-thirty. You didn’t disturb me. No worries.” What was it with early bedtimes? Was this a Vermont thing, or just this bed-and-breakfast? He didn’t sound like he was concerned about her bothering him; more like vice versa. She relaxed a little. Surely, Auntie Zee wouldn’t kick her out just for interacting with a guest.
He sighed dramatically. “I’m relieved to hear it. I was assured it wouldn’t be a bother if I used the kitchen facilities after-hours. I know we all come to the Faraway Inn for a sliver of peace to touch our souls, and I wouldn’t dream of disturbing the repose of the other guests.”
Calisa pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. He reminded her of a man she’d seen at the renaissance fair that Crystal had dragged her and Maddy to last summer—a willowy man in a black cloak who’d spouted poetry while hawking corsets. Like that man, this guest enunciated every sentence as if it were a sonnet. “No repose disturbed,” she told him. “AndI’m not one of the guests. I’m Calisa, Auntie Zee’s niece. I’m working here for the summer.”Hopefully.
He laid his hand over his heart, and she thought for an instant that he was going to bow. “Ah, a blood relation of our illustrious hostess! I’m honored to meet you. My name is Mulligan, and I am a regular visitor to this bucolic haven.”
“Nice to meet you,” Calisa said. “I just arrived today, so I don’t know anything yet, but is there something I can help you with? What are you making?”
“Ah! This”—he gestured at the bowl with a flourish—“is a potion for the wounded heart. A salve for a shattered soul. A concoction to comfort those caught in the crushing misery of an unkind fate.” He struck an actor-overplaying-Hamlet pose, arm raised, head back, silhouetted against the darkness of the kitchen window.
She wondered if Mulligan had ever done theater. “Sounds great.”
He dropped his hand. “It is more colloquially known as ‘hot chocolate.’ ”
Calisa grinned. “Definitely great.”
“I make it from scratch with only the finest ingredients: whole milk, unsweetened cocoa powder, sugar, chopped chocolate, and the secret ingredient…vanilla extract from the highest-quality bean in all the known realms.” He lifted a bottle of vanilla, displaying it as if it were a rare wine bottle. “Would you care to join me?”
