I don’t want to jinx it so soon, but everything seems to be going to plan. The only problem is my appointment book is still half-empty. Carina promised to reach out to her PR contacts, but besides sending the website link to every travel blog I can think of, I’m not sure what to do to bring in more people. With my parents in full force to bring me back to New York, I need the B&B to be a success more than ever, if for no other reason than to prove them wrong.

I’m invested now. I want so badly for this to work, to do Nana proud.

The main line in the office rings, so I hurry through and pick up the phone. “Rose Cottage Bed and Breakfast, Noelle speaking,” I say brightly.

“Wow, you sound so official!” Lexi’s voice comes.

“Hey!” I exclaim happily. “How are you?”

“Waiting for you to return my calls,” she complains. “I’ve left you like, five messages.”

“I’m sorry! I’m avoiding everything from a New York number right now,” I admit. I take a seat at the desk, swiveling on the old chair. “My parents are on a major mission to tell me I’m screwing up my entire life.”

“Yeah, about that…” Lexi sounds guilty. “They called me, wanting to recruit me.”

“Recruit you? For what?”

“I think they’re planning an intervention.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. They called some of the other associates, too. And I think they’re trying to fly your sister and her family back over? Don’t say you heard it from me,” she adds quickly. “I mean, I think what you’re doing is crazy, but not like an actual mental break.”

“I’m fine,” I reassure her. “Better than fine. You should come down for a visit,” I suggest, “stay the weekend, see the town. You’ll love it here, I promise. It’s so relaxing and fun. You’ll see, I’m doing the right thing.”

“How about next year?” Lexi sighs. “I’d love to, babe, but Harper is still busting my balls. There’s no way I can get away from work.”

“See, this is why I left! Do you know what I did on the weekend?” I ask her. “I spent the morning baking, then went to the beach, and read a book out on the back porch while the sun set.”

Lexi groans enviously. “But aren’t you getting bored out of your mind?” she asks. “No adrenaline, no challenge?”

“There’s challenge enough for me here,” I reassure her. “Besides, you know I never loved that lifestyle. You thrive off stress, but it always just made me break out in hives.”

“Well… You don’t sound like you’re having a breakdown,” she admits. “But if a strange man tries to bundle you in the back of a van, it’s your parents hiring some guy to de-program you.”

I laugh, just as the other line lights up, flashing red on the switchboard. “There’s another call, I need to take it. But you really should come visit,” I add. “You need a break.”

“I need a promotion,” Lexi corrects me, laughing. “But you take care, OK?”

“Talk soon,” I promise, before hanging up and switching to the other line. “Hello?” I ask, forgetting my official “phone answering” script.

There’s a pause. “Is this Rose Cottage?” a female voice asks, clipped and disapproving.

“Yes, the bed and breakfast,” I hurriedly explain. “Noelle speaking, how may I help you?”

“This is Bunny Vanderberg.” She announces it, like I’m supposed to know what that means.

There’s a long pause.

“Are you booked as a guest with us?” I ask, frantically flipping pages in the appointment book. I’m sure I would have remembered a name like that.

“No. I’m with Classic Southern Travel,” she sounds even more miffed. “We have a last-minute opening in our next small-town issue, and I saw your press release. You are open, and available to guests, are you not?”

“Yes, of course.” My mind races. Classic Southern Travel is a major magazine with the older, luxury travel set. My mom has a subscription, and loves poring over all the classic Antebellum hotels they feature—if she ever got a day off. “We’d love to be featured. That would be amazing!”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she sniffs. “Of course, I’ll need to tour the property, and make sure it lives up to our high standards.”

“Of course,” I echo, eager. “When would you like to come? I can make room for you whenever suits.”

“I’ll be in the area tomorrow,” she says.

I pause. “So soon?”

“Will that be a problem?” she demands. “Your release said you had just reopened. ‘The perfect small town experience,’” she quotes.

“No problem!” I yelp. “We’re ready for you. I’ll prepare our best room. You won’t regret it,” I promise.

“Hmmm. We’ll see about that.”

She hangs up without another word, leaving my head spinning. A reviewer from a major magazine, arriving tomorrow? Suddenly, all the jobs I thought could wait come rushing back to haunt me. The broken roof tiles, the overgrown yard… Other guests might be happy with some fresh-baked goods, but Bunny Vanderberg sounds like she demands nothing but the best.




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