The Book Club Hotel(95)

Maybe she shouldn’t have said we. After all, the inn belonged to Hattie, not her.

She held her breath as Hattie picked up the file and turned the pages.

“You’ve done a detailed background of each supplier. Photographs. Their story. It’s so human. Real.” She turned another page. “A map of how to reach their farm.”

“Only the ones who offer tours and sell to the public,” Claudia said quickly. “I’m not suggesting we encourage stalkers. And obviously, we would need to check with them first. It would be collaborative. I thought maybe in the summer we—you,” she corrected herself, “could have evenings when you showcase the produce of a particular supplier. And maybe offer cookery classes to small select groups. Just an idea.”

“It’s a brilliant idea.” Hattie flipped the page and smiled. “You’ve included the Petersons.”

“Good photo of Noah, don’t you think?” She saw Hattie’s cheeks turn pink.

“Yes.”

Claudia didn’t probe. It really wasn’t her business and she was the last person to offer advice on relationships.

“Are we inviting suppliers to dine in the restaurant? Because we should.”

“Involve them more?” Hattie was scribbling frantically. “You’re right. This is all great, Claudia. Can I ask you another favor?”

“Of course.” Claudia finished her coffee. “Anything.”

“I’ve written a job description for the head chef job. Would you take a look?”

Claudia felt her bubble of enthusiasm deflate. She hated the idea of someone else taking over the kitchen at the Maple Sugar Inn, which was ridiculous because she was on vacation and leaving in a few days. “Sure. Email it to me. I also thought maybe we could—” She broke off as her phone rang. “Sorry. I thought I’d switched it off.” She picked it up and saw “John” on the caller display.

John?

Her mouth dried and her fingers shook slightly. They hadn’t spoken since the day he’d walked out on their shared life six months earlier.

“Take it. We can finish this later.” Hattie stood up. “I’ll give you privacy.”

Claudia didn’t ask how Hattie knew that this phone call needed privacy.

She waited for Hattie to leave and then took the call.

She said nothing, because she honestly didn’t know what to say.

“Claudia? Claudy?” His use of his pet name for her made her wince. Pet names were for people who cared for each other, and he’d made it clear he didn’t care for her.

“What do you want, John?” All the misery and insecurity she’d spent six months blocking out came rushing back.

“It’s good to hear your voice.”

Her knees shook and she felt a rush of longing and immediately hated herself for it. This man had treated her with no respect. “If you’d wanted to hear my voice, you could have contacted me at any time.”

“I’m sorry. I behaved badly and I know I have a lot of work to do to persuade you to forgive me. How are you?”

How was she? She’d been doing just fine until she’d answered this call. And what did he mean, forgive him? What made him think she’d forgive him? And why did he want her to?

“What do you want, John? Why are you calling now, after six months of silence?”

“You’re angry. I can understand that. I wasn’t expecting this to be an easy call. I deserve everything you throw at me.”

If he’d been in the room there were plenty of things she might actually have thrown at him. “I’m busy. Can we make this quick?”

“Where are you? I expected you to be in the apartment when I arrived, and my key isn’t working.”

She tightened her grip on the phone. “You’re in the apartment?”

“Outside our apartment, which apparently, I can no longer access. Is there a problem with the locks?”

“I had them changed.” She sent silent thanks to Erica, who had arranged it. “And the apartment ceased to be ours when you moved out with no warning and stopped contributing to the rent.” For the past six months it had been a roof over her head, nothing more. “As for where I am—I’m away with Erica and Anna. Book club.”

She had no idea why she’d told him that, except perhaps to prove that she was still living her life. That his actions hadn’t broken her.

“Doesn’t that happen in the summer?”

“We couldn’t arrange it in the summer.” You left me. I was a mess. “You still haven’t told me why you’re calling.”

And suddenly she wondered. Was this about Trudy? Was he calling to say he was getting married? Her stomach lurched.

“I want you back, Claudia.”

The room spun. She must have misheard, surely? “Sorry?”

“I want us to be together. And I know this is probably a shock.”

A shock?

She wanted to say something cutting but her mind was blank.

“Claudia? I know you’re mad with me. I don’t blame you. I don’t know what happened to me, but I’m going to spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.”

The whole conversation was unbelievable.

“Where does Trudy fit into this little arrangement?”