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“Sounds like an excellent plan.”
John reached for a key hanging from the pegboard behind the desk and plucked a map of the property from a pile near the large bound appointment book. He drew a circle around the farm manager’s home with his blue pen. “Now, then, have the driver pull through the circular drive and follow the lane to the left, past the patio, and down around the pond. Once you reach—”
“Have you asked him?” A man’s voice demanded.
Leo turned toward the fireplace in the corner of the room to see the speaker rising from a club chair. Given the angle of the chair and the shadows in the room, Leo hadn’t realized anyone else was there.
The man strode across the room, his right hand outstretched. “Rex Stoddard.”
“Leo Connelly. Asked me what?” Leo inquired, giving the man a perfunctory handshake.
John shifted uncomfortably and lowered his chin, flicking an unamused look toward Stoddard. “Mr. Stoddard, as Hatty has already explained, we’re happy to make up two bedrooms here in the main house, even though we hadn’t intended to rent any of those rooms this weekend. But we’re not about to inconvenience the McCandless-Connelly party because your plans have changed.”
“No. I told you that doesn’t work. This is a reunion. We can’t reunite when we’re not all in the same physical space. We need seven bedrooms.” Stoddard dismissed the offer with a sharp shake of his head.
“What’s the problem?” Leo asked in a low voice, addressing the question to Hatty.
“Mr. Stoddard booked the cottage, which has five bedrooms. But evidently, some couples who’d planned to share rooms are now—”
Stoddard spoke over her. “Tessa’s giving me the cold shoulder. She’s decided she doesn’t want to warm my bed for reasons I don’t care to go into. And Bethany and Chance are bickering. Now they want separate rooms. Ergo, five bedrooms won’t cut it. We need seven.Youhave seven. So we need to switch.”
Leo showed no outward reaction to Stoddard’s overbearing tone. “That sounds like a tough situation. But we reserved the house with seven bedrooms because we need seven bedrooms.”
They locked eyes and stared at one another. Neither one yielding, neither one blinking. Leo sized up the younger man. Stoddard was roughly the same height and build as Leo, and about twenty years younger. Like Leo, his short brown hair was so dark it was nearly black. Based on Stoddard’s slouchy cashmere sweater, dark jeans, and flannel tennis shoes, Leo pegged him as a tech bro. The studied casual attire was at odds with the feral quickness of his expression.
“Mr. Stoddard, I’m afraid you and your friends will simply have to suffer one another’s company as you’d originally intended.” Hatty’s tone was warm but firm.
Stoddard tried another tack. “Do you know I own King Ventures—the business incubator in Lawrenceville? You probably saw the write-up inTechburgh. If you could find a way to be accommodating, I’d throw you some business. A retreat. Maybe an office party.”
Yep. Tech bro.
The couple said nothing, unsurprisingly willing to forego the offer to form a deeper business relationship with a guest who’d already proved to be difficult.
Stoddard turned toward Leo. “Come on, man. Work with me here. What’s it gonna—?”
Just then, the wide doors opened. They all turned to see two women race inside, breathless from the cold and laughing. One of the women was Sasha. She was trotting across the parquet floor arm-in-arm with a stranger. The other woman had honey-colored hair and an angular chin. Despite her easy manner with Sasha, her brown eyes flashed at Stoddard.
When the pair reached the desk, Sasha slipped her hand inside Leo’s. He covered it reflexively. Her skin was like ice.
“It’s cold out there,” she informed him.
“This is Sasha,” he told the Carlisles. “Sasha, meet our hosts—Hatty and John.”
“Welcome to Silverwood Acres,” John said.
“And happy anniversary,” Hatty added.
Sasha grinned at the innkeepers. “Thank you. Everything’s so lovely. I’m over the moon to be here.”
Leo tilted his head at his rosy-cheeked wife. “Why are you in here? You’re supposed to be waiting in the toasty van.”
“We were playing ‘I Spy’ and—”
He couldn’t let it pass. “I spy with my little eye? The game we play with the twins at restaurants to keep them occupied? Is the crowd really that restless?”
She shrugged. “Hey, it was working. And then Maisy spied Tessa with her little eye.” She gestured to her new companion. “She was charging across the driveway, and you know Maisy. She buzzed down the window to say hello.”
Of course she had. In Maisy’s world, there were no strangers, only friends she hadn’t met yet.
