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Would she get a chance to talk to her? Would she talk to Wes? This event wasn’t exactly conducive to a great conversation.
She connected the cables to the projection screen and motioned for Lia to join her at the front of the room.
“Is it ready?” Lia asked. She was clutching a champagne flute, and the glass looked ready to shatter under her tight grip.
Everyone else was having a good time, but Lia had been tense and on edge all evening.
“Yes,” she said, handing her the remote. “Your aunt texted and said Grandmama is all set. Just hit Connect whenever you’re ready.”
Lia took a deep breath and actually looked nervous as she clinked her glass and the crowd turned their attention toward her. “Hi, everyone. Thank you all for coming. I love that we were able to be together like this.” She paused. “Unfortunately, there is one very important member of our family who wasn’t well enough to travel.”
She turned to glance at Malcolm, and Sarah couldn’t quite decipher the look that passed between them, but Lia seemed even more uneasy than Sarah felt, trying to avoid looking at Wes.
Lia continued, as though a lot was riding on this surprise for her husband. “So, we brought her here the best way we could.” She hit Connect on the remote, and a second later, Grandmama’s smiling face appeared on the large projector screen in the front of the room.
Malcolm’s look of surprise gave way to one of affection as he glanced at Lia, and Sarah’s sigh of relief seemed to be in sync with the other woman’s.
Lia’s grateful smile in her direction had some of the tension melting away. She’d done it. She’d pulled off the event. She’d impressed the great Lia Jameson. And more importantly, she’d impressed herself. She hadn’t given up on the inn or its legacy. Her grandmother’s legacy.
“Thank God for technology, am I right?” someone in the crowd said, and Sarah shifted her gaze to Wes. He was looking at her, his expression torn. Conflicted and strained. Should she go talk to him? Should she avoid him? Her heart raced and the air around her felt stale, thick…
It was impossible being near him and not wanting to rush into his arms. Knowing she may never have a chance to be with him…and Marissa ever again had her chest tightening and tears threatening to appear.
She hurried out of the dining room and into the foyer, looking for an escape. Several guests lingered at the base of the stairs. She’d have to interrupt them to head up to her room, so instead, she took the stairs down to the wine cellar; yanked the big, heavy door open; and slipped inside.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she pressed her fingers to her lids. She would not cry. Not right now, anyway. She had to make it through the next few hours.
She forced several deep breaths. She’d just focus on making sure everything ran smoothly and after dinner escape to her room. Lia would be gone the next day, and she could focus on the next steps.
The cellar door opened behind her and she turned quickly. Wes?
Lia. “There you are,” the other woman said.
She wiped her eyes quickly and cleared her throat. “Did you need me for something?”
“Yeah, I, uh…” She moved into the cellar, letting go of the door.
“Maybe don’t let the…door shut,” Sarah said with a sigh as it closed. She hurried toward it and gave a quick tug on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Damn.”
Lia’s eyes widened. “What?”
“This door has been sticking lately, so it’s safer to leave it ajar.”
Lia immediately reached for the handle and pushed with all her strength. It wouldn’t budge.
Sarah pushed with her.
Nothing.
“Please don’t tell me we are trapped in here.” Lia’s breathing immediately shallowed.
Sarah glanced at her. “Stay calm.”
“I’m claustrophobic.”
“It’s not exactly a small space.” Sarah continued to push on the door as Lia started to pace.
“Still, it’s a creepy-ass cellar. And I’m trapped inside.” She clutched her chest above the white silk blouse tucked into a thin, knee-length black pencil skirt. “Air. I need air.”
