Completely (New York 3)

When Allie began applauding, and May and Winston and Nancy and Bill all joined her—and Beatrice, too—Rosemary was completely embarrassed. Completely happy.

Completely in love.

Chapter 28

Rosemary put the address on the key fob Allie had given her into her phone and set her phone in the cupholder. “Go where it tells you,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He gave her a little salute. Feeling cocky, clearly, now she’d forgiven him. Now that they’d found their way again.

She put her hand on his thigh and squeezed.

Kal shifted in the driver’s seat.

She did enjoy him.

They made their way downtown, where Kal parked the car beside a building near the water. “Where are we?”

“Apparently Allie has been renovating a small inn. She calls it a micro hotel. I can’t say that I followed her entire explanation, but it has something to do with an investment by Winston’s driver, Jean, which she’s been managing. They’re nearly ready to open but haven’t booked any of the rooms yet.” Rosemary extracted the key from her pocket and dangled it in front of his eyes. “We’re going to try out the honeymoon suite.”

“That sounds promising.”

“There’s a featherbed mattress, rainfall showerheads, and a hot tub, among other enticements.”

Rosemary tried the key on the exterior door. It swung open. Someone had left lights on above the check-in desk, and there was a coffee station with an espresso machine for the morning.

“Did you ever get the feeling like you’ve been adopted into a very big, very weird family of Wisconsin people?” Kal asked.

“Yes. I quite like them. I was trying to work it out: if Allie is Winston’s girlfriend, and Winston is my ex-husband, does that mean we’ve been given a room to shag in by my future sister-in-law? I feel as though there should be a name for the relationship between you and your ex-husband’s soon-to-be wife.”

“Probably there is.”

“I’ll have to speak to a genealogist, work out what it does to the family tree.” They climbed the stairs together, Rosemary in the lead to allow Kal a view of her bum. She’d had a great many feelings in the past few days. Discharging them had left her with a terrible requirement for sex.

“Important shit if you’re a baroness.”

“I only would have been a baroness when Winston’s mother died. But even divorced, I’m Lady Rosemary.” She paused at the top of the stairs and threw a smile over her shoulder at him. “You can call me that if you like.”

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

She unlocked the door to the room. It was vast, the four-poster bed draped in gauzy white, the ceiling painted tin, the walls exposed brick, the floors shining. “Well done, Allie.” She dropped the key on a tray by the door.

“This is swanky.”

“It’s perfection.”

They poked around the room, opening and closing cupboard doors, examining the amenities. “So Allie is rich,” Kal said.

“She’s done well for herself in antiques and real estate, according to Winston.”

“And what’s her sister do again?”

“She illustrates children’s books. Or she’s attempting to.”

“I thought my mom had a lot of kids, but the Fredericks—there’s, like, twenty of them.”

“Two,” she corrected.