Page 65 of Just One Chance

I needed to make a final decision on the furniture soon because my time in town was coming to an end. I'd seen everything there was to see, and I'd already decided on the picture frames and color scheme. Since it was a mountain inn, I went with deep forest greens, rich cedar browns, smoky grays, and cozy cream neutrals. Guests would come and want to stay awhile.

"I'll get to work on what you need for the snow room. Just let me know how many benches and tree structures you'll need."

"I'll email the design over to you so you can see what I had in mind. But you're the artist; you can design whatever you think will work."

"You don't mind if people create something not on your list or in your design?"

"Of course not. I'm not an artist. I trust your judgment."

"But you designed the room."

I sighed. "I don't see myself as an artist."

"You have a vision, and someone else brings it to life."

"My satisfaction comes from increased traffic to the hotel. The reviews on the website. That kind of thing. Not from the designs I create."

He leaned back in his chair, cradling a bottle.

There were lights strung from the building to a pole that was slightly shorter than the roofline. It created an inviting ambiance. "It's really pretty out here."

"Clara was over here once with Beck and insisted on hanging lights. But it's rare for anyone to stop by, other than to check progress on my work. When I was doing the brewery furniture, I would take everything over there to see how it would look."

"It's nice, even if it's just you hanging out here." I tried to imagine what he did when I wasn't in town. Did he spend his evenings out here? Or did he work until he was too exhausted to do anything but go to sleep?

He gestured at the space next to the workshop. "Soon, I'll have my own place over there and can create something more permanent, a patio or a deck. I haven't decided."

"It's so quiet here." There was a thin blanket of snow on the ground from a storm that had passed through earlier in the day.

"That's what I prefer."

He'd hate Miami, the hustle and bustle, the nightlife. People awake at all hours of the day. I'd thought it made me feel alive, but now I wasn't so sure. Was it the sound of the night forest or the nightlife that truly made me feel alive? I had a feeling it had something to do with Boone.

I decided to change the subject because our lives were too different for me to be thinking about blending them. "Your parents are going to start construction on the snow room as soon as possible. They're excited to get it completed before summer when they figured most guests would enjoy it the most."

"A deadline for something like that is always good. Who knows how long it will be trending?"

"Hopefully, for years to come," I said.

"I'll get started on the work right away. I have a few things to do for the brewery. Then I want to focus on other projects."

I sighed. "I don't know what to do about the furniture at the inn."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I almost always get a strong feeling about the direction of a hotel or inn. I knew right away that the snow room would be perfect. After I saw what you did at the brewery, I was convinced that photographs of scenery would be great on the walls of the inn. But I can't see the furniture in my mind, if that makes sense."

"Beck said he looks at the numbers."

I sighed. "It's cheaper and quicker to go with something that's mass produced."

He looked away. "Then you have your answer."

"But I can see the appeal of handcrafted furniture too. It would last longer, have an attractive history that guests would talk about in reviews. It would be a quality upgrade that came with the appropriate price tag."

"Maybe there's some kind of a compromise."

I raised a brow. "And what would that be?"