The Book Club Hotel(77)

There was a wistful note in her voice, and Erica felt as if this was the point where she should say that she no longer wanted to leave, but she couldn’t force the words out of her mouth. She didn’t know how she felt. Staying would mean deepening the bond, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Hattie broke the silence. “Tell me more about you. Where do you live?”

“I have an apartment in Manhattan. But I’m not there often. I travel a lot for work.”

“Where to?”

“Everywhere.” Erica relaxed a little. “Often Europe and the Far East.”

“Sounds glamorous.”

“It can be.” Erica thought about the hotel rooms, the spas, the room service. “It can also be lonely.”

“Do you have someone special in your life?”

“You mean romantic?” Did Jack count? No, their relationship was practical and satisfying but not serious in any way. “No.”

“You hesitated.” Hattie leaned forward and passed Erica the bottle so that she could top up her glass. “Tell me more. Leave nothing out.”

“Now you’re sounding like Anna.”

“Well, you clearly love Anna, so I’ll take that as a good thing.”

Erica poured a small amount of wine into her glass. “There is someone I see from time to time, but it’s casual. It’s more a question of convenience. We’re there for each other when one of us needs a date.”

“But you like him. A lot.”

Erica frowned. “I don’t know how you draw that conclusion from what I just told you.”

“Because you don’t strike me as the kind of woman who wastes time with someone whose company you don’t enjoy.”

Erica shrugged. “I value my independence.”

Hattie tilted her head. “How does being in a relationship threaten your independence?”

It was a reasonable question and one Erica found hard to answer. She enjoyed Jack’s company. Jack hadn’t asked her to give anything up or change anything. So why hadn’t she let him stay the night when he’d suggested it?

“I suppose I’m set in my ways.” She changed the subject. “How about you? Noah seemed—attentive.”

“He has been a great friend.” Color whooshed into Hattie’s cheeks and Erica knew Anna would have immediately dived in with a follow-up question, but she wasn’t Anna.

Should she mention that Delphi wanted him to move in? No. She knew nothing about being an aunt, but she had a feeling that betraying a confidence wouldn’t be a good start.

“You’re right that the wine is good, by the way.” She’d been so focused on the conversation she’d only now realized just how good.

“It is good.” Hattie glanced at the bottle. “Brent employed a sommelier to fill our wine cellar when we first opened. He left lots of notes for us, including when certain bottles should be drunk. I found this one when I was in the cellar last week and decided I was going to gift it to myself.”

“An excellent decision.” Erica took another sip. “But I feel guilty drinking your profits. Put this on my bill.”

“Don’t worry about it. Right now there isn’t much in the way of profits, but the fact that I no longer have Chef Tucker and Stephanie on the payroll may mean my costs have gone down dramatically. They were the employee equivalent of white truffle.”

Erica laughed. “You were brave tonight. You handled it well.”

“Did I? I think it was more a case of being trapped in a corner, and if it weren’t for the fact that you have friends with useful talents I don’t think we would have made it through the evening, but what the hey—” Hattie fiddled with her glass. “I think you were brave, coming here.”

Brave? She’d arranged this trip without telling anyone why she was doing it; she’d stepped into the inn, taken one look at that photo and been so unsettled by the emotion unleashed inside her that she’d almost run away.

Almost.

So far, technically, she’d only run as far as the bookstore.

She’d been so sure that she wanted to leave. But now?

Something had shifted during the conversation with Hattie. She was no longer a stranger, but a real person. She’d created a detailed picture where previously Erica had only had bare facts, a rough sketch. And then there was Delphi.

Walking away had seemed like the easy answer, but it no longer felt easy.

She could check out in the morning as planned, spend Christmas in the city and step firmly back into her comfort zone. She could go back to her old life and pretend nothing had changed. Maybe message Hattie occasionally.

But was that what she wanted?



EIGHTEEN


Claudia

“I tell you, the guy was a bully.” Claudia drizzled extra maple syrup over her pancakes. “And the sort who intimidated people with his food. Food should never be intimidating. If I’d had to rename one of his dishes I would have called it A fat slice of ego served on a bed of overinflated self-esteem.”

Anna picked up her coffee cup. “Shouldn’t that be a soufflé of self-esteem?”

“Maybe.” Claudia smiled. Inside she was buzzing. She couldn’t remember when she’d had as much fun as she’d had the night before. She’d had complete autonomy in the kitchen, or as much autonomy as was possible when you were working with someone else’s ego-driven menu. “I’ve worked with people like him and trust me, it was an experience I could happily have lived without. He was the type who thought the food should be honored to have him preparing it.”