Madelyn "Lyn" Creeke and her grandmother were the last of their family. At least, that's what Lyn's grandmother always led her to believe.
Lyn had never heard of or seen pictures of Georgina Creeke, a great aunt that had been living a few hours awa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Panoramic Destinations?" Jordan's voice dripped with disdain. "Purchasing your property? You mean the Hound and Sparrow?"
I felt the world speeding around me as if I was caught in some sort of tear in the space-time continuum. The present played out before my eyes at an accelerated speed. I felt utterly incapable of altering the events unfolding before me. I was trapped in a rush of water with my head just barely above it.
"Yes," exclaimed the cheery Mr. Myers as he came around the table. "From what the waitress told me, you're the caretaker, Mr. Wells. I'm an acquisitions manager for Panoramic. Here's my..." He pulled out a business card from a pocket inside his suit jacket, but paused when he reached out to hand it over. I followed his eyes and soon realized Jordan and I were still holding hands. "Am I interrupting something? I didn't mean to intrude. The waitress told me you two were here on business..."
"We are," I said as we both snatched back our hands and folded them into our laps. "We were just discussing the inn's Christmas display for the town's annual contest." Though I directed my words to Devon, I kept my eyes on Jordan. Unfortunately, he didn't return my gaze. Instead, he chewed on the inside of his cheek while he looked out over the restaurant. Now and then, his nostrils flared, and I saw him biting back a coarse word upon his tongue. Pain, fear, and remorse clenched my heart and my breath grew shallow. I balled my fists and squeezed it away.
"Oh, really?" asked the oblivious Mr. Myers. "That sounds exciting. I'd love to hear more if you wouldn't mind me being a fly on the wall. I won't disrupt you. I'd love to just sit and listen..."
"I can pull up another table if you'd like." Bernice brought out our plates of food, moving around us as if she didn't notice her nephew's livid expression.
Our quiet corner of the restaurant had suddenly become loud and crowded, and my head raced with the ever quickening beat of my heart.
"I think, maybe..." I started, but Jordan's sudden rise from his chair cut into my words.
"Don't bother." He stepped away and offered his seat to Mr. Myers. "Here have mine. Ms. Creeke and I have discussed as much as we can for tonight. Plus, I know how important this sale is to her."
The formality of my name cut into me like a knife. I was too wounded by this sudden blow to get to my feet in time to stop Jordan from heading straight to the exit.
"Are you sure?" asked Devon, his tone apologetic. "I really didn't intend to be a bother..."
"Yeah, well," he added before turning down a row of tables and getting out of earshot, "I hear good intentions are great for paving roads."
"What?" muttered the real estate investor.
"That boy." Bernice sighed with a shake of her head. "Mr. Myers, please excuse my nephew. The holidays are a stressful time. Why don't you take his seat for now and discuss what you need to with Ms. Creeke? I'll see if I can bring him back."
