Page 25 of Never Your Valentine

“Shouldn’t we wait for Hugo?” I ask. My cousin is the sixth member of our chamber.

“He’s always late. At this rate, we’ll be waiting until spring.”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Hugo trundles in and detours for coffee before throwing his bulk into the last chair.

Lia clears her throat the way lawyers do when they’re about to ruin your evening. “Let’s start with updates. We’ve got budgets, visitor numbers, and some new guidance from the county about trail permits.”

Hugo groans as he shrugs himself out of his coat. “If I have to hear the word permit one more time, I’m building an unlicensed hotel on principle.”

“You already own a hotel,” Oscar says. “Unless you’re planning on The Frostline: Underground Edition.”

That gets a snort out of Michelle. She’s halfway through arranging Dove’s cookies on a paper plate. “You could rent rooms by the hour to wives whose husbands are out ice fishing.”

“Michelle,” Dove scolds gently, but she’s laughing, too. “Eat a cookie. I brought those pecan ones you like.”

Lia taps her pen on her notebook. “Can we please stay on task?”

We go through updates. Business is slow, as expected in January, but there are a few bright spots. We’ve got reports from two snowmobile rental outfits that they’re doing better than last year, and the tour companies report that their winter numbers are steady. Between a decent amount of snow and the new ads we’ve been trying, the town’s in decent shape.

Hugo’s planning Valentine’s weekend specials at The Frostline, complete with welcome bags from local businesses. He asks me about coupons for The Break.

I shrug. “Sure, if the new landlord doesn’t put me out of business by then.”

“What’s her problem?” Hugo asks.

“She doesn’t like the noise.”

“Nobody likes the noise,” Oscar points out. “That’s why you’re on the far edge of town.”

“Someone tell Annabelle that,” I mumble into my coffee.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Dove says. Dove and Lia coo over her while Oscar looks on in confusion and Hugo silently sips his coffee. “She’s so sweet,” Dove says. “And so pretty.”

“She’s stunning.” Lia bumps me with her elbow. “Grant thinks so too. Don’t you, big guy?”

I’m saved from answering by the door banging open and Ted Ender walking in, tracking slush and smugness as he strides over to our table. “Evening, everyone,” he says. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“You are,” Lia says flatly, already closing her notebook halfway.

“Since you meet in public, I thought you wouldn’t mind a little public perspective.” Ender unbuttons his overcoat, revealing a tailored suit that doesn’t belong anywhere near Echo Creek. The man is all slick hair, tight tie, and white teeth. He looks like other people’s money.

Ender surveys the table as if we’re going to scooch our chairs over to accommodate him. Nobody moves. “Is that coffee I smell?” he asks. “Point me to the pot.”

I give him a blank stare over my mug. Hugo places a hand over his, as if Ender is going to poison it. Lia shakes her head.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Ender follows his nose to the alcove and fusses around with cream and sugar.

Lia leans forward to whisper, “We can kick him out, right? He’s not a member of the chamber.”

“On what basis?” I ask. “As long as he’s not disruptive, I don’t see how we can.”

Dove snorts. “His aftershave’s disruptive.”

“He smells expensive,” Michelle says.

Oscar nods. “He smells like pricing locals out of the market.”

Ender returns with coffee in hand. He pulls an empty chair from another table and sits outside our circle, looking like the least popular girl in school.