Carrie glanced around Nancy’s office. She was really going to have to do more tidying.
“About that,” she said. “Do you think you might be able to come up a week on Friday?”
“Probably. I can check Graeme’s diary, see what he’s got on. I’ll probably have to bring Mother, too, I’m afraid.” Ruth sounded more regretful than apologetic.
“I figured as much. It’s probably for the best,” Carrie said, philosophically. “We need to convince her and your dad that this is the right place for you to get married before they fork over any deposit, anyway.”
“I suppose.” Ruth paused for a moment. “Have you thought any more about asking Dad…?”
“For a handout? No.”
“To invest in a viable growing business that he has a personal stake in.”
Carrie sighed. “It sounds much better when you put it like that.”
“Well?” Ruth pressed. “Have you?”
She didn’t want to. But her options were growing severely limited. She’d checked out every grant going but, even if she got one, the money wouldn’t be through in time to help. “A little.”
“Good.”
“But we still need to convince them this place is good enough for your wedding before we even get that far,” Carrie said.
“We do.” She could almost hear Ruth grinning down the phone. “So you’d better get to work, miss!”
“I really better had.” She thought about Ruth, stuck in wedding planning hell, but still trying to help her out. “Why don’t you and Graeme stay over, when you come up? A nice romantic night away might be just what you need to help you both feel better about everything. And it will give me a chance to get to know him too.”
“Really? That would be brilliant,” Ruth said. “Wait—we get to send Mum and Dad home first though, right?”
“Definitely,” Carrie agreed.
That went well, Nate congratulated himself, waving goodbye to Matt as he drove away from the inn. Matt would be the perfect builder for Carrie, and the inn. Not only would he not try to rip her off, he was clear and honest and actually explained his reasoning for the suggestions he made.
“That went well,” he said out loud, as he heard Carrie come to stand behind him.
“Mmm.”
Okay, that went well apart from Carrie’s apparent indifference, he amended.
“Did you like Matt?” he asked, unable to imagine what she could possibly have not liked about him. He was just...Matt. What you saw was what you got.
“He seems fine,” Carrie said. “I wish he could start work sooner...”
“Two weeks is pretty good going.” Nate jumped to defend his friend. “We were damn lucky he had that cancellation.” Besides, Carrie wouldn’t have had the money to pay him before then, Nate suspected. He wasn’t entirely sure she did now.
“Oh, I know that.” Carrie looked up and gave him a half-smile. “I just wish he could have started work about three months ago.”
Ah. That, Nate could understand. It might all be over and ready by now.
“So, what are you going to do for the next two weeks, then?” he asked, teasing. “Lie around and eat chocolates while you wait for Matt to come and save you?”
“Not exactly.” Carrie’s gaze darted back to the interior of the inn. “I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for Ruth’s visit.”
“That’s true,” Nate said, frowning. There was something more he was missing here. “So I should let you get—” But Carrie had already wandered off in the direction of Nancy’s office, leaving Nate talking to himself by the open front door. “Right, then.”
Time, he decided, to go find the Seniors. If anybody knew what the hell was going on now, it would be those gossip hounds.
He found them, rather surprisingly, in the kitchen. “Did the Red Lion run out of gin?” he asked, slipping in through the door and shutting it behind him.
“Shh!” Cyb and Moira said together, turning to glare at him.
He held up his hands in apology, and his gran explained, “Carrie’s just next door.”
“And you don’t want her to know you’re here?”
“We don’t want her to know we’re talking about her,” Cyb corrected.
Nate thought, Gossip hounds, again, with some satisfaction.
He hopped up to perch on the countertop, earning himself a glare from Jacob who, apparently, was trying to work through the invasion of his kitchen. “So, what’s the latest, then?”
“It’s Jacob who heard it,” Cyb said, clasping her hands together with excitement. “He should tell you.”
“No, please,” Jacob said, without turning around. “You go ahead. Elsewhere, for preference.”
They all ignored the last bit. “It seems,” Stan said, “Carrie received a phone call this morning. From our prospective bride.”
Nate blinked. This wasn’t exactly the big drama he was expecting. “Was this before or after Matt came to give his estimate?” Because that might at least explain her lousy mood, if the phone call was a bad one.
“Just before,” Jacob confirmed, attention still on his knife as he sliced potatoes.
“Any idea what it was about?”
They all looked at Jacob again, and the chef sighed, put down his knife and turned to face them. “All I heard was Carrie saying that all grooms hate weddings, and then, later when I popped back to get her coffee cup, she was arranging the show round for a week on Friday.” Jacob paused, apparently getting into the drama of storytelling after all. “And then...she suggested that they stay overnight. Have a romantic weekend here at the Avalon. Said it might ‘help’.”
“Help with what, I’d like to know?” Stan grumbled.
“So we might possibly have our first overnight guests since Carrie took over,” Nate summarised, shrugging. “Well, at least we know the bride is predisposed to like the place.”
“There’s more than that going on today, boy,” Stan boomed, clearly forgetting Carrie was still in the next room. “We’ve got a plan.”
Which sounded ominous. Nate sighed. “Okay. Why don’t we go and discuss this plan somewhere farther away from Nancy’s office?”
They settled on the front drawing room, since Carrie was no longer using it to work from, and Jacob brought them a tray of tea with some of the staff digestives before disappearing back to the kitchen. The inn might be falling apart, he told them, but there were still people who’d risk falling bricks for his steak and kidney pudding.
It was a good sign, Nate supposed, that the inn was still getting diners in, even if it was only the locals. Now they just needed to make it habitable enough for people to stay. And get married.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, helping himself to a biscuit. “Find out about this possible sleepover?”
Stan nodded. “And why a newly affianced couple