Page 92 of Once Upon a Fall

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most stubborn person in the world?”

He cocks a brow. “In the entire world?”

“Yes,” I tell him.

“No,” he says, smiling. “No one has ever said that to me.”

“Liar,” I tell him, smiling back.

The next day, I don’t have time to be sad that Dean is leaving because I’m too busy cleaning the place like the Queen of England is coming.

This is a lie, of course. I mean, I’m definitely cleaning the inn like I’m expecting royalty, but I’ve been a miserable cow while doing it.

Maybe it’s that he hasn’t left yet. He’s still helping around the inn. He’s been cleaning up his own room after he packed everything into his car, which makes me feel even more guilty that he insists on paying me.

He was right, though. I need the money. When everything is squared away, the loan is paid off, and I’m feeling more comfortable, I’ll send him something. Like a trip to Aruba. Or a gift card to Chili’s. Whatever my budget allows.

I really hope he likes Chili’s.

No matter what it is, it won’t be enough. It could never be enough.

“You’ll be at the dinner tonight, right?” Dominic asks after I had a small breakdown over the yellow shower curtain he hung in the Beauty and the Beast room yesterday because it isn’t the right shade of yellow.

Everything else turned out perfectly. The walls are painted Custard’s Last Stand, which Dean once again accused me of making up, with a matching bedspread over the four-poster bed. Framed pictures of single roses hang on the walls, and I found the perfect ceramic castle at a yard sale for the dresser.

And then an ugly not-right-shade-of-yellow shower curtain.

Dominic talked me down from ripping the whole thing out and running to Burlington for a new one. It was the right call. With only three hours until guests arrive, I definitely didn’t have the time.

I owe him for his help, too. But Dominic’s my brother, so it counts less. He’s contractually obligated to help me. With the contract being that he’s my twin and therefore must do my bidding.

“What?” I ask him while re-wiping the bathroom mirror. It’s my third time, and I keep creating new streaks with each try.

“Mom’s anniversary?”

“Right,” I say.

Every year since our mom died, we visit her grave. Then Emma makes dinner, and we sit around reminiscing. It’s normally one of my favorite traditions with my family and a lovely way to grieve together, just us. But right now, the inn and the festival seem to be overshadowing everything else in my life.

And there’s also the man upstairs who’ll be leaving soon.

Nope. I can’t dwell on that.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” I tell him.

“Who’s going to watch the inn while you’re gone?” he asks. “Dean?”

I fix him with a glare. “No, Dean is leaving today.”

I look back at the mirror, blinking a few times as I scrub harder on the fourth attempt.

“Leaving? I thought you two had something going on.”

I go tense. “What made you think that?”

“Why would a guy stay here and then help you with the inn?”

“Because he wanted to help,” I say.