CHAPTER FIVE

Exhausted from her long, disastrous morning, Emily found herself sinking into unhappiness. Everywhere she looked she saw problems and mistakes; a messily painted wall, a poorly affixed light, an ill-fitting piece of furniture. Before, she’d seen them as quirks, but now they bothered her.

She knew she needed some professional help and advice. She was in way over her head, thinking she could just run a B&B.

She decided to call Cynthia, the bookstore owner who had once managed a B&B in her youth, to ask for advice.

“Emily,” Cynthia said when she picked up the call. “How are you, my dear?”

“Awful,” Emily said. “I’m having the worst day.”

“But it’s only seven thirty!” Cynthia cried. “How bad can it be really?”

“Really, really bad,” Emily replied. “My first guest just left. I missed serving him breakfast on the first day, then on the second day I didn’t have enough ingredients and he said the food was cold. He didn’t like the pillows or the towels. I don’t know what to do. Can you help?”

“I’ll be right over,” Cynthia said, sounding thrilled at the prospect of imparting some wisdom.

Emily went outside to wait for Cynthia and sat on the porch, hoping the sunshine might cheer her up, or, at the very least, the dose of vitamin D would. Her head felt so heavy she let it drop into her hands.

When she heard the sound of crunching gravel, she looked up to see Cynthia cycling toward her.

Cynthia’s rusty bike was a common and somewhat unforgettable sight around Sunset Harbor, mainly because the woman sitting atop it had frizzy dyed orange hair and wore bright and very uncoordinated outfits. To make things even more bizarre, Cynthia had recently affixed a wicker basket to the front of her bike in which she transported Storm, one of Mogsy’s puppies that she’d adopted. In many ways, Cynthia Jones was her very own tourist attraction.

Emily was glad to see her, though Cynthia’s large red polka-dotted summer hat hurt her weary eyes somewhat. She waved at her friend and waited for the woman to reach her.

They went inside and Cynthia wasted no time. As they ascended the stairs, Cynthia fired questions at Emily, about water pressure, about whether she was serving organic food and who her supplier was. By the time they reached the guest bedroom, Emily’s head was spinning.

She took Cynthia inside. The room, as far as Emily was concerned, was beautiful. There was a mezzanine area at one end where she’d put a comfy leather sofa so that guests could sit there and look out at the ocean view. The room was mainly white, but with blue accents, a sheepskin rug, and distressed pine furniture.

“This bed is too small,” Cynthia said immediately. “Standard double? Are you crazy? You need something grand and opulent. Something luxurious, beyond anything they’d be able to afford themselves. You’ve made this room look like a bedroom showroom.”

“I thought that was the point,” Emily said meekly.

“Absolutely not!” Cynthia cried. “You need it to look like a palace!” She paced around, touching the crumpled bed covers. “Too scratchy,” she said. “Your guests deserve to sleep in a bed that feels like silk against their skin.” She paced over to the window. “These drapes are far too dark.”

“Oh,” Emily said. “Anything else?”

“How many rooms do you have?”

“Well, this is the main one that’s ready. There are two more that just need some furnishings. Then there’s a ton more that I haven’t even managed to clear yet. And the whole third floor could be converted too.”

Cynthia nodded and tapped her chin. She seemed to be having some ideas, perhaps, Emily wondered, some grand plans for the B&B that would be impossible for her to achieve.

“Show me the dining room,” Cynthia commanded.

“Um…okay…”

They went downstairs and with every step Emily’s dread intensified. She was beginning to regret the decision of asking Cynthia for help. Where Mr. Kapowski had dented her fragile ego, Cynthia was shattering it to pieces with a sledgehammer.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Cynthia said, walking around the dining room.

“I thought you loved this room,” Emily said, perturbed. Cynthia had certainly enjoyed the five-course meal and cocktails – made and paid for by Emily, no less – the last time she’d been here.

“I do. For dinner parties!” Cynthia exclaimed. “But you need to make this a B&B dining room now, with small tables so the guests can eat alone. You can’t put them all on one big table like this!”

“I thought it would foster a sense of community,” Emily stammered defensively. “I was trying to do something different.”

“Darling,” Cynthia said, “don’t even go there. Not now. Maybe ten years down the line when you’re an established business with money to spare, then you can start experimenting. But now you have no choice but to make this the way your guests are expecting. You understand?”

Emily nodded glumly. She didn’t know if there was even going to be a ten years down the line. She’d only ever been thinking in the short term with the B&B and now it sounded like Cynthia wanted her to really invest in this place, turn it into something long term and sustainable. It was starting to sound expensive, and expensive was not something Emily could afford. Still, she listened patiently as Cynthia continued her critique.

“Don’t put lilies in here. It reminds people of funerals. And oh dear God, that will have to move.” Cynthia was looking out the window at the chicken coop. “Everyone loves a free-range egg but they certainly don’t love seeing the dirty little critters that produced them!”

By the time she left, Emily was feeling worse than ever. She went back to sitting on the porch, looking at the to-do list Cynthia had given her. Just then, Daniel arrived home and strolled up the gravel path toward her.

“Boy, am I happy to see you,” Emily said, looking up at him. “My day has literally sucked from the moment I woke up.”

Daniel sat beside her on the porch. “How come?”

Emily regaled him with the tale of Mr. Kapowski, of Lola and Lolly failing in the one thing they were supposed to do, of the pretty shoes she’d ruined scrabbling around in their chicken coop, of the burned bacon, of Mr. Kapowski leaving, and of Cynthia’s criticisms.

“And take a breath,” Daniel said with a smirk as soon as she was finished.

“Don’t laugh at me.” Emily pouted. “It’s been a really trying day and I could do with your support.”

Daniel chuckled. “One day you’ll look back and see the funny side. Once this is in the past and you’re running the most successful B&B in Maine, that is.”

“I doubt that will happen,” Emily said, giving in further to her darkening mood. She couldn’t begin to imagine her B&B becoming a success. She wasn’t even sure if she could keep it going in the short term. “The worst thing is I know they’re both right,” she added. “I’m not good enough at this. I need to get better. And I need to make all the changes that Cynthia suggested. The B&B she managed when she was younger was one of the best in Maine. If I don’t take her advice I’d be an idiot.”

“How much work needs to be done?” Daniel asked.

“A lot. Cynthia says I need to get the other two rooms up to standard pronto. They need to be in different color schemes and have different nightly prices, so that guests feel like they have some kind of choice, to make them feel in control. She said that the chances are people will go for the middle-priced room because they don’t want to look like they’re stingy to their significant other, but that there’ll always be a certain type of person who goes for the cheapest no matter what, and another who always goes for the most expensive.”

“Whoa,” Daniel said. “I never realized there was so much to think about.”

“Neither did I,” Emily replied. “I went into this whole thing blind and naïve. But I want to make this work, I really do.”

“So what do you need to change? How long will it take?”

“Pretty much everything,” Emily said glumly. “And I need to get it done as soon as possible. It’s going to eat into the rest of my savings. I’ve worked out that I’ll only have enough left to keep this place running until the Fourth of July. So one month.”

Immediately, she noted the change in Daniel’s body language, an almost imperceptible shift away from her. She was well aware that she was putting a time limit on their romance, as well as her business, and it seemed as if Daniel was already distancing himself from her, if only by a few centimeters.

“So, what are you going to do?” he asked.

“I’m going to go for it,” she said, decisively.

Daniel smiled and nodded. “Why do anything halfway?” he said.

He put his arm around her and Emily leaned into him, relieved that he had closed the distance between them once again. But that shift wasn’t something she was going to forget easily.

She’d started a stopwatch on their relationship and it was ticking down.

CHAPTER SIX

“This chest of drawers would be perfect for the smaller room,” Emily said, her fingers running along the top of the pine dresser as she looked over at Daniel.

Her heart quickened as she fell in love, as she always did, with the hidden gems in Rico’s antique store. She could see Daniel getting excited, too, as he eyed it; it was an added plus that this also happened to be their favorite place to go on dates together.

Both enjoyed the thrill of discovering rare and exotic items for the B&B, but they also loved the endless source of entertainment the old, forgetful man provided. While Rico’s short-term memory was less than reliable, his ability to recall the past was second to none, and he would often launch into unexpected anecdotes about the townsfolk, or history lessons about Sunset Harbor itself. There was also often the added bonus of Serena, who, despite being fifteen years her junior, was someone Emily now considered to be a good friend.

Emily then looked up and saw an exquisite gold-gilded vanity mirror.

“Oh, and this would work perfectly too.”

She flitted around the shop, Daniel following her as she hopped from one wardrobe to the next. As she went, she jotted down the prices and numbers on the tags of the items she was interested in, so she could give the list to Rico at the end. She was making numerous purchases, after all, and it was best not to confuse the poor man.

“What about this?” Emily asked Daniel, looking at a large four-poster bed. “Cynthia said that the beds need to be bigger. That I need to make my guests feel like royalty.”

Daniel walked across the store from where he’d been examining some stone birdbaths, and stopped beside her.

“Whoa. I mean, yeah, your guests will definitely feel like royalty sleeping in that thing. It’s enormous. Do you definitely have the space?”

Emily pulled out a measuring tape and began jotting down the dimensions of the bed, then consulted the diagram in her pocket. She’d written down all the dimensions to ensure she only purchased furniture that would neatly fit within the rooms. The plan was to stick to renovating the two other main rooms initially, pouring all her spare cash into making them as perfect as possible, then to expand quite rapidly to twenty rooms – the ones that would cater to the cheaper end of the market – once the money from the first three came in.

“It would definitely fit in the bridal suite!” Emily beamed. The beautiful bed frame was making her excited; just the thought of owning it and putting it in one of the bedrooms was a thrill.

Daniel reached out and looked at the price tag. “Have you seen how expensive it is?”

Emily leaned over and read the tag. “It belonged to a fifteenth-century Norwegian aristocrat,” she read. “Of course it’s going to be pricey.”

Daniel gave her a bemused look. “Why are you not that concerned? The Emily I know would be hyperventilating around about now.”

“Ha. Ha,” Emily said wryly, though she knew he was speaking the truth. She was one of life’s eternal fretters, but this time something had shifted. Perhaps it was that ticking clock, that tolling bell, the sand sifting through the timer of their relationship. Something about the finality of it all made her throw caution to the wind. “Spend money to make money, right?” she said, boldly. “If I scrimp now, I’ll pay for it later. The B&B will implode.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Daniel said, laughing. “But I do know what you mean. You have to put in the investment now, put in the groundwork.”

Emily took a deep breath.

“Okay, good. Now you’re on my side, I’m ready to do this.”