Room for Love by Sophie Pembroke Read Free Book Online

decided. She could hole up in the front drawing room, and the bedrooms were still empty for further inspection. And anything that brought money in had to be good. “I was just looking for some tea...”
    Jacob nodded at a white plastic kettle and toaster in amongst all the industrial kitchen equipment. “That we can do. Mugs and bags are on the shelf above, fridge is under the counter.”
    The corner he indicated was obviously the staff area of the kitchen. The small fridge held only spreadable butter, milk and a couple of Tupperware boxes with Nate’s name written on labels on their lids. The slanting, cursive print really wasn’t what Carrie would have expected from him.
    “There are some muffins in the breadbin, too,” Jacob called over. “Help yourself.”
    Carrie took her tea and hot buttered English muffins through to the front drawing room, settled in at the window table, and pulled out her list.
    “Okay. Where to start?” Realizing she was talking to herself, Carrie turned to a blank page in her pad and started to write notes to herself instead.
    First question was, bedrooms or dining room? Which held top priority? They both needed doing, but which mattered most?
    Without decent bedrooms, the Avalon really wasn’t much of an inn. But without a great reception room, what wedding party would want to stay there anyway?
    On the other hand, most of the work in the bedrooms was cosmetic, so it might be quicker to get done. The dining room itself wasn’t bad, structurally, but the terrace outside needed considerable work, according to Nancy’s survey. And from what she’d seen that morning, the kitchen was going to need updating if they wanted to host full-on wedding breakfasts and evening suppers in addition to their normal fare.
    “How many can the dining room hold, anyway?” She’d have to measure it for herself, before the lunch crowd arrived.
    “We can fit seventy for our New Year’s Eve dinner dances,” Cyb said from behind her. “Although, to be honest, we don’t often get that many these days.”
    Carrie blinked, turned and said mildly, “You’re here very early.”
    Cyb grinned, and waved a handful of small, brightly colored bunting at her. Carrie peered closer, and picked out the national flags of Brazil, China and Denmark in the mix. “Just dropping off the decorations for tomorrow night,” she explained. “I had to wash them after last month’s International Night. Walt managed to get Campari and soda all over the bunting during a particularly enthusiastic tango attempt. Stan’s always telling them to put their drinks down first.”
    “Sounds like…fun.” Carrie turned her attention to her list and, to her relief, when she looked up again, Cyb and her bunting were gone.
    So, seventy for a dinner dance. Maybe a hundred, a hundred and ten without the dance floor, then cart everyone off to the bar while they turned the room around for the disco, with tables around the outside. A healthy number.
    “Maybe the bridal suite and the dining room first, then,” she muttered to herself, adding another note to her list.
    “If you mean room twelve, then it needs new windows,” Nate said, and when she turned around he was actually peering over her shoulder at the list. Carrie resisted the urge to cover her notes with her hands and wondered why he didn’t seem in the least embarrassed about the previous evening.
    “They all need new windows.” Carrie’s gaze flicked involuntarily to back to the huge book of a survey. Many of them needed a great deal more.
    “Yeah, but the bridal suite frames are rotted through. One of the perils of wooden frames.” Nate reached down and snagged half a muffin from her plate. Carrie was starting to think the man really had no concept of appropriate work relationships. “And the terrace isn’t looking great, either. I noticed last night the left side’s sagging something awful.”
    Carrie wanted to ask if that was before or after he’d attempted to stick