business account and a small personal checking account here in Lusty, and opened another one in Waco, she’d kept the bulk of her investments in New Jersey for the time being. With online banking so prevalent, she couldn’t see any reason not to leave her investments and long-term savings where they were.
Who knew if this was where she was going to spend the rest of her life?
One item on her list was scheduled to take place just after the lunch hour. Jake and Adam’s brother Jordan, a building contractor, had agreed to come and have a look at the third floor “loft” with a view to renovating it. With six bedrooms on the second floor, she thought it might be nice to convert the two on the third floor into one room—a loft—and offer it as a special accommodation, promote it as the “honeymoon suite.” She envisioned light yellow walls, wicker-accented furniture. She also wanted to install an en-suite bath similar to the one she had in her own room—though perhaps not quite as large.
The small balcony on the third floor that opened to the back of the house and overlooked the fields and rolling hills of Central Texas would make a wonderful place to set out a small dining set so guests could enjoy their morning coffee alfresco or even have special, private candlelit dinners catered in. Maggie nodded and added another item to her list. She needed to check with Kelsey and see if Lusty Appetites provided take-out, or a catering service. Maggie herself was a pretty good cook and might even consider catering special evening meals for the honeymoon suite herself. But she didn’t want her business to in any way infringe on Kelsey’s territory.
Maggie wasn’t looking to make a fortune here in Lusty, or even to make her mark. She had a fortune, thanks to the value of the land she’d just sold in Wildwood Crest. There’d been no mortgage on The Leprechaun, and so the sale had been completely unencumbered. Maggie Morrison had more money in the bank than she’d ever spend in her lifetime.
All she wanted for this new place was to make her own place—to be busy, and productive, a member of the community and a doting aunt and great-aunt. Of course, she wanted to make a profit. She needed to show the Town Trust they’d chosen wisely in choosing her to be their innkeeper. But anything more than that simply wasn’t necessary.
Maggie looked over her “must do” list—a subdivision of her “to do” list. She’d applied for her business license, allowing Adam and Jake’s fathers to file the forms on her behalf, check. Operating account at the bank, check.
Maggie grinned. She had to admit that whenever she wound up spending time over at the New House—the home of the senior Kendalls—she paid pretty close attention to the family dynamics there. She’d just never imagined a family with one wife and three husbands. She didn’t want to think too deeply about why that particular dynamic was running around loose in her head, waving question marks like pom-poms.
The Kendalls made their kind of very unique family all seem both simple and natural.
The doorbell rang at the same time the phone trilled. Maggie shook her head, picked up the portable, and answered the call as she headed from her small office to the front door.
“Parkview Inn, Margaret Morrison speaking.”
She looked through the etched glass, recognizing the outline of the man who waited on her porch.
Richard Benedict didn’t fidget the way Kevin did, or look around the way Trevor did. No, Richard stood absolutely still, his entire attention fixed on her door. As if he could will me to appear before him by force of concentration alone .
Maggie smiled at the fanciful thought and at Richard as she swung the door open to let him in.
In her ear she heard a very cultured male voice say, “Good morning. I’m interested in booking a room for three days next week.”
My first request for a reservation and I have to turn him down . “I’m so sorry, but we
Who knew if this was where she was going to spend the rest of her life?
One item on her list was scheduled to take place just after the lunch hour. Jake and Adam’s brother Jordan, a building contractor, had agreed to come and have a look at the third floor “loft” with a view to renovating it. With six bedrooms on the second floor, she thought it might be nice to convert the two on the third floor into one room—a loft—and offer it as a special accommodation, promote it as the “honeymoon suite.” She envisioned light yellow walls, wicker-accented furniture. She also wanted to install an en-suite bath similar to the one she had in her own room—though perhaps not quite as large.
The small balcony on the third floor that opened to the back of the house and overlooked the fields and rolling hills of Central Texas would make a wonderful place to set out a small dining set so guests could enjoy their morning coffee alfresco or even have special, private candlelit dinners catered in. Maggie nodded and added another item to her list. She needed to check with Kelsey and see if Lusty Appetites provided take-out, or a catering service. Maggie herself was a pretty good cook and might even consider catering special evening meals for the honeymoon suite herself. But she didn’t want her business to in any way infringe on Kelsey’s territory.
Maggie wasn’t looking to make a fortune here in Lusty, or even to make her mark. She had a fortune, thanks to the value of the land she’d just sold in Wildwood Crest. There’d been no mortgage on The Leprechaun, and so the sale had been completely unencumbered. Maggie Morrison had more money in the bank than she’d ever spend in her lifetime.
All she wanted for this new place was to make her own place—to be busy, and productive, a member of the community and a doting aunt and great-aunt. Of course, she wanted to make a profit. She needed to show the Town Trust they’d chosen wisely in choosing her to be their innkeeper. But anything more than that simply wasn’t necessary.
Maggie looked over her “must do” list—a subdivision of her “to do” list. She’d applied for her business license, allowing Adam and Jake’s fathers to file the forms on her behalf, check. Operating account at the bank, check.
Maggie grinned. She had to admit that whenever she wound up spending time over at the New House—the home of the senior Kendalls—she paid pretty close attention to the family dynamics there. She’d just never imagined a family with one wife and three husbands. She didn’t want to think too deeply about why that particular dynamic was running around loose in her head, waving question marks like pom-poms.
The Kendalls made their kind of very unique family all seem both simple and natural.
The doorbell rang at the same time the phone trilled. Maggie shook her head, picked up the portable, and answered the call as she headed from her small office to the front door.
“Parkview Inn, Margaret Morrison speaking.”
She looked through the etched glass, recognizing the outline of the man who waited on her porch.
Richard Benedict didn’t fidget the way Kevin did, or look around the way Trevor did. No, Richard stood absolutely still, his entire attention fixed on her door. As if he could will me to appear before him by force of concentration alone .
Maggie smiled at the fanciful thought and at Richard as she swung the door open to let him in.
In her ear she heard a very cultured male voice say, “Good morning. I’m interested in booking a room for three days next week.”
My first request for a reservation and I have to turn him down . “I’m so sorry, but we
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