Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)
Page 78
“We’re fully booked, that’s why.”
“But I’m your sister.”
“Yes, I am aware. Even though I haven’t seen or spoken to you in five years. What are you doing here, Vanessa?”
She shrugged her narrow, bony shoulders. “I’m terribly bored,” she said in an affected weird British accent. “I’m tired of wandering.” She grinned. “I’ve come home to run the inn!”
Oh.
No.
Holy shit.
It took everything within me not to stomp my foot and bellow, Like hell you are!
Instead I shot a very worried Aydan a reassuring look before turning to my sister. “That’s sweet, V, but I don’t need help running the inn.”
“No one calls me V anymore. And I’m not asking whether you need help. It’s my inn, too.”
“You hate the inn.”
She shrugged. “I judged it too harshly. I’m growing up, Bailey. I’d like to take on some responsibility.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Okay. What’s your experience?”
“Excuse me?”
“Management experience.”
She made a face. “Bailey, I’m tired, and I don’t have time for this nonsense. I’ve flown from Monte Carlo to be here.”
“Fleeing the mob? The cops?”
“What?” Vanessa said shrilly.
“You being here does not make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense to you.” She stepped toward me. “I’m here to get to know my inn.”
I sucked in a breath at her audacity. This place had never been her inn. “I haven’t even heard from you in five years!” I repeated.
“I’ve been busy.”
“I hope to God managing a business because otherwise you are not getting near this one.”
“Does she have experience?” She gestured to Aydan. “Somehow I doubt it. Look at how she’s dressed. Do you honestly let her greet guests this way?”
Aydan narrowed her eyes and I knew she was about five seconds from removing the huge hoop earrings in her ears and telling Vanessa to step into a fight ring.
“Aydan is my manager and she is good at her job. For instance, she would know the impropriety of standing in the middle of reception arguing where any of the guests can hear.”
“I’m not arguing.” Vanessa shrugged again. “There is no argument. Legally this place is mine, too, and you’re just being petty not letting me get to know it a little better.”
“I’m not being petty. I’m being wary. I don’t trust your motives, dearest sister.”
“How horribly unkind of you.” She sounded bored already. “Okay. I’m bored,” she confirmed. “Show me to a room.” She gestured to her bags like she expected me to carry them all.
“I don’t have a room. I’m fully booked,” I repeated through gritted teeth.