Page 50 of Manors & Mischief

“So is it happening?” Raquel says from behind the counter.

I grin at Bea. Of all the ridiculous things to do, she would make up a plumbing issue with the café just to get me down here. “Don’t think I’m getting out of here without a coffee…on the house.”

A few tourists smile and put their heads together. Even they can see what’s going on. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” they reply back.

“Don’t move to a small town or this is the kind of thing that happens.”

They laugh even louder.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bea singsongs as she gets my coffee together.

Raquel puts a cup right next to it as soon as Bea puts mine down. She gestures toward it. “For Ember. In case you screwed it up yesterday.”

“I didn’t screw it up yesterday.”

Bea throws her hands in the air. “He got the date!”

The whole café erupts into applause. Locals and non-locals all joining together, and I swear, this is the thing Bea will see in her reviews, and it’s also the ones Mom plucks out of online comments and places them on our website to prove how homey Harvest Falls is.

“Congratulations,” Raquel says as she puts the two cups in a carrier, and I grab it to go, giving graceful waves as I walk out of the café, the applause still following me. Now I remember why it’s so difficult to start dating anyone around here. The moment people get wind of it, it’s the whole town’s business.

Oh my goodness. Mrs. Donahue! That’s why she told me to have fun today! These people are nuts.

After putting my toolbox away, I get in the truck, safely secure the coffees, and drive out to the manor. When I park outside, I peer at it for a moment. In a few hours, we’ll be doing a few more rounds of the Haunted History Tour, and then I’ll be taking her to the hayride.

Knots form in my stomach. I rub the back of my neck, peering over at the Civil War costume in my front seat. I have no idea what’s going to happen today, or tonight for that matter for our non-date, I just know there’s a heaviness surrounding it. Like an important feeling. One that tells me this isn’t just another first date with a woman.

Ember blew into Harvest Falls and turned my life upside down in more ways than one. I’d almost given up on finding a partner. The number of single females is low in Harvest Falls, and there aren’t any who I haven’t grown up with or seen in diapers.

I grab the coffees and get out of the truck. A man comes out the front door, and I nod. He’s wearing a suit, though he appears vaguely familiar looking like I could place him if he weren’t dressed like that.

A few raps on the door later, and I’m walking into the manor. “Ember, I’ve got coffee.”

She walks down the hallway, and I stop in my tracks. Her face is crimson, her eyes rimmed in red and puffy. I set the coffees down on the first flat surface I can find and walk toward her. “What is it?”

She takes a deep breath like she’s trying to keep her voice even, but it doesn’t work. Her voice cracks immediately when she starts talking. “That was some sort of code guy. I’m being fined.”

“What?” A mix of anger and confusion pulses through me.

“He showed up at my door this morning and said he’d noticed the work that we’d done on the front of the house. He said he worked for Harvest Falls, and he wanted to see around the place. I was just so happy I started talking to him about all the things we’re doing. He listened and listened until the end when he said that the manor is a historic landmark and that I can’t just make changes to it without requesting permission, and that I’ll be fined $1,500 for every change I made.”

I’m already dialing my mother before she finishes her sentence. $1,500. Give me a break. “Hi Devon. To what do I owe this honor?”

“Mom, I’m with Ember. I⁠—.”

“Oh, that’s great, Dear. Finally. We were all wondering when that was going to happen.”

I roll my eyes. “Mom, no. Listen, some code guy was just here and told her she’s being fined $1,500 for doing work on the manor.”

“No,” Ember says, speaking up. “$1,500 for each repair we made without permission.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “$1,500 each repair?”

Ember sniffles. “I can’t pay it. It’ll ruin me. I’ll have to sell, or not eat. I’ll—.” She breaks off with a small cry, turns her back, and retreats upstairs.

“Devon, what’s going on?” Mom asks.