“You and me both,” Sarah muttered. “Unless there’s anything else?” She started toward the door. “My bag is already packed. I’ll get off the premises immediately.”
If she was lucky, maybe they’d give her a chance to say goodbye to Beckett.
Before she could cross the room, a brisk knock sounded and the door swung open without invitation. Beckett barged in. “Don’t make any rash decisions.”
Presumably he was speaking to the Tullys, but his eyes zeroed straight in on Sarah.
“Yes, Beck, please join the discussion,” Michael said drily.
“Sorry. But I have something to say.”
The determined glint in his eyes had Sarah stepping toward him. “Beckett, don’t.”
The last thing she wanted was him falling on his metaphoric sword for her and losing his job.
He just shot her an I’ve got this wave. “I know this is a weird situa
tion, but I didn’t want y’all tossing anybody out without listening. This isn’t on Sarah.”
Heather went brows up. “Wait, you knew she wasn’t Taylor?”
“I figured it out pretty fast.”
“And you chose not to turn her in,” Michael confirmed.
“I did.” Beckett’s jaw firmed. “You’re the one who kept spouting off about Pinecone Lodge.”
Huh?
Whatever that was about clearly meant something to the Tullys. Michael swore and Heather straightened, coming to very focused attention.
“Please don’t take anything out on Beckett,” Sarah insisted. “None of this was his idea.”
That chiseled jaw turned to granite. Stubborn through and through. “Training you was my idea. And I stand by it. You can do the job. You just proved that.”
“By rights we should fire the lot of you,” Michael said. “This whole thing could be an insurance nightmare.”
“Nobody got hurt,” Beckett insisted. “And Sarah passed all the certifications.”
“Not the point. The job wasn’t hers.”
“Michael,” Heather chided. “We’ve already lost two instructors, one to a broken leg, the other to a family emergency. And our nutritionist up and eloped to Bora Bora. We can’t afford to lose more. Beckett, you’re not going anywhere. And Taylor, as long as you actually pass the certifications, you can stay.”
“Thank you. Seriously,” Taylor gushed. “That’s more than I was expecting.”
“What about Sarah?” Beckett asked.
“What about her? She’s not in any kind of trouble,” Heather said. “What would we charge her with? Conspiracy to do a good job? She aced everything.”
“Of course, she did,” Taylor muttered, but she softened it with a grin.
“You said you lost your nutritionist,” Beckett interrupted. “Sarah has a degree in nutrition.”
Heather’s gaze sharpened. “Really?”
“Just a bachelor’s degree. I’m not licensed or anything.”
“But you could probably handle coordinating with the chef and her staff to deal with any special dietary restrictions of guests, right?” Heather pressed.