Room for Love by Sophie Pembroke Read Free Book Online Page B

And now your staff are telling me they can’t find my booking!”
    “I am so very sorry, sir.” Carrie shot a glare at Nate, and he clenched his jaw and stared down at the email. She wanted to handle it? Let her. “Why doesn’t your party come through to the bar for a complimentary drink while I try and resolve this issue for you.”
    Mr. Jenkins looked faintly mollified when Carrie led them all into the main bar, gave instructions to Henry the part-time barman to hand out as much free booze as necessary, then shut the door on them before coming into the lobby.
    “Before you say anything–” Nate started, but Carrie was already talking over him.
    “You’re not talking now,” she said, her voice much sharper than it had been in the dim light of his summerhouse the night before. “I don’t know how my grandmother ran this inn, and I know I’ve only been here one day, but my understanding is that you are the gardener. A fact that was made abundantly clear by your treatment of our customer. So from now on, I would appreciate it if–”
    “He isn’t our customer,” Nate broke in, attempting to keep a tight hold on his anger. Never mind that he’d been practically running the place since Nancy got ill and wouldn’t tell her family. No matter that he’d held everything together while they waited for Carrie to pack up her life in the city and grace them with her presence. Never mind that Mr. Jenkins was an idiot.
    It stopped Carrie’s tirade for a moment, anyway. “What?”
    “Mr. Jenkins. He’s not our customer.” Nate pushed the print out of the email across the reception desk and waited for Carrie to reach the hotel name in the signature.
    “Arundel Hotel.” She didn’t sound particularly apologetic, Nate thought, but at least she seemed calmer.
    “Yeah. It’s a couple of miles down the road.”
    “Right.” Carrie shut her eyes and sighed. “Of course.”
    Without an apology or a retraction, Carrie snatched the email from the desk and stalked off toward the bar to give Mr. Jenkins the good news that out there somewhere was a dining table set for thirty, and their food was going cold.
    * * * *
    Once the Jenkins party had been dispatched in taxis to the Arundel Hotel, Carrie took her pile of papers back to the drawing room, determined to finally get some work done.
    Passing through the lobby, she saw Izzie in place behind the reception desk, shuffling piles of junk mail. She glanced up at Carrie.“If you’re looking for Nate–”
    “I’m not,” Carrie told her, without breaking pace. She was, after all, perfectly capable of running the Avalon Inn without him.
    She sat at the window seat, this time, to avoid anyone else sneaking up on her, and turned to The List.
    1. Windows.
    She should probably apologize to Nate, she realized. Sighing, she turned to stare out at the gardens. Whatever the bushes were by the driveway needed cutting back. And the beds under the windows were empty, she remembered.
    Maybe Nate needed to apologize to her, actually. Or at least start doing his job.
    Still, the gardens hadn’t even made it on to her priorities list yet. They certainly came after the bedrooms and the dining room, but probably not too much farther down. Photo opportunities were a huge selling point for wedding venues. She wondered if the inn had a pagoda.
    The sharp beeping ringtone of her mobile phone seemed oddly out of place at the Avalon. Adding change ringtone to the mental list, Carrie answered it quickly, and only clocked the caller ID after she said, “Hello?”
    “Carrie, hi.” Anna Yardley’s voice was as crisp as ever, but the sound of traffic behind it was distracting. “Do you really think this is the best way to go?”
    “I’m sorry?”
    “Not you. I have a taxi driver who seems to think the best way back to the Manchester office from Liverpool is via Scotland.”
    “Right.” Anna had never, in all the time Carrie worked for her, agreed with a taxi driver about the correct route