Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel by Susan Donovan Read Free Book Online

dispenser filled. “What’s in the oven, Mellie?”
    “Just some cranberry and blueberry scones, plus some shortbread.”
    “God, you’re so awesome.” Rowan retrieved a cut-glass sugar and creamer set and began to fill both.
    “And what about your place? You need a hand getting it presentable?” She glanced up at Rowan with a sly smile on her lips. “I know you’re not exactly the tidiest person on earth.”
    “What?” Rowan turned from the coffeemaker and clutched at her chest with mock offense. “Are you implying I’m crazy, stubborn,
and
a hoarder?”
    Imelda laughed hard, which brought a rosy flush to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes. She was the prettiest seventy-year-old woman Rowan had ever known, with her thick black hair, dark eyes, and delicate bone structure. Sometimes Rowan swore she hadn’t changed at all in twenty-five years, since the day she arrived on the island looking for work and a place to stay for herself and Lena, her young daughter. That was back when the fishery was still in operation and the Safe Haven was the Flynns’ private residence. Since they’d recently lost their help, Mona hired Imelda as the family’s housekeeper and cook on the spot, announcing that the single mother had “excellent energy.” From that day forward, Imelda and Adelena Silva were like part of the family, and it became clear that Imelda’s skills stretched far beyond cooking and cleaning. She was a master gardener. She was a wicked good seamstress. And she had a high, clear singing voice that echoed through the house, signaling all was right with the world.
    When Rowan’s father shut down Flynn Fisheries twenty years ago and converted the house to a B and B to make ends meet, Imelda had stayed on as the cook.
    These days, she was slowing down. Her daughter was making a ton of money as an artist and Imelda was well past retirement age, yet she refused to leave the job. “Safe Haven is my home,” is all she’d say when anyone broached the subject, and anyone who knew her well knew better than to question her again.
    “You’re not a hoarder, dear girl,” Imelda said once her laughter subsided. “Maybe just a little on the free-spirited side. And I’d be more than happy to help you after I’m done with the breakfast prep.”
    “Thanks, but I’m good.” Rowan pulled a large bag of roasted coffee beans from the pantry and kicked the door shut with her foot. “Our guest knows not to expect the Ritz. I’ll vacuum, run the dishwasher, change the sheets, and clean the bathroom, but he’ll have to put up with the clutter.”
    Imelda put the knife down and wiped her hands on her apron, frowning. “But what about your privacy? Aren’t you worried he’ll snoop around in your stuff?”
    It was Rowan’s turn to laugh. “Jeez, Mellie. What do you think I do up there? ’Cause I can tell you—I do
nothing
up there but sleep and read.” Rowan buried her nose in the freshly ground coffee beans and inhaled. “But yeah, I’ll bring my laptop here with me. There’s nothing else I’m worried about. The guy’s filthy rich, so I don’t think there’s anything of mine he’d want anyway.”
    “If you say so.”
    “Besides, he’s paying me so much that it’s worth whatever inconvenience I have to deal with.”
    Imelda tucked in her chin toward her chest and scowled. “How much?”
    “Ten thousand.”
    “Ten thousand dollars?”
She smacked her palms onto the butcher block. “
Oh meu Deus
!”
    Rowan held her index finger to her lips. “Keep it down. He’s right there in the sunroom.”
    Imelda’s mouth hung open and she blinked several times. “But . . .” She shook her head as if to throw off the disbelief. “That’s enough to get the central air fixed! Or you could refinish some of the floors or even get new storm shutters!”
    “I know. What did I tell you? It’s totally worth a little inconvenience, right?”
    Rowan added the coffee and turned on the machine. Almost