Page 25
Story: Stolen Kisses
Chapter Six
Hannah
––––––––
Hell hath no fury like an inn owner who finds a room trashed.
Everything was a mess.
As quickly as possible, I took stock of the furniture and the floors to see if anything was permanently damaged or if it was all just covered in dirt. There were empty bottles everywhere and plastic cups thrown around the room, boot prints on towels, and who knew what else.
I loved the inn, but days like this one weren't easy. There was no point complaining, though, so I sighed heavily, rolled up my proverbial sleeves, and started cleaning.
I was thankful there was no real damage. I could deal with dirt, but if I had to replace anything, I would probably have a mental breakdown. I could barely afford to pay the property tax, let alone any broken furniture.
I’d checked in the couple myself, but since I wasn’t here when they checked out at lunch today, I simply asked them to put the key in the post box on the outside of the building.Serves me right.
I loved the inn so much. It was a Queen Anne Victorian mansion. It had ten bedrooms, and each of them were almost identical, down to the white drapes and red headboards. The outside was painted yellow and orange, and the tiled roof was gray.
I loved the yard even more than the inn itself. It was much larger than the ones surrounding the nearby homes, and the edge of the property was lined with huge old trees.
The ground floor only had a living room, a bathroom, and the small bedroom I used whenever I slept there. The guest bedrooms and bathrooms were all on the two floors above.
My phone beeped with a message while I was cleaning the windows. Those were the only part of the room that weren't covered in dirt, but since I was deep cleaning every inch of it, I decided to give the windows the same treatment. It was House Cleaning 101 that I learned from my mother.
Mom: Got home safe? I’m still so tired. By the way, the photographer sent some pictures of you and Chase dancing. They are amazing.
She sent me two pictures. She was right. The photographer had captured Chase in all his sexy glory.
I closed my eyes and was instantly transported back to the dance floor. My stomach started with butterflies, and my pulse accelerated. But I was determined not to think about him or that toe-curling, amazing kiss.
My phone buzzed again.
Mom: Everything okay?
Hannah: Yup. Just need to deep clean a room.
Mom: How many bookings do you have for today?
Hannah: None.
Mom: :-(
That about summed up my thoughts right now. Over this past weekend, I'd thought about the inn a lot while I was exploring the hotel.
As I took my mop and the cleaning supplies and went downstairs, I couldn’t ignore the sounds the staircase made or the cracks in the walls. After spending the weekend in luxury, all the inn’s faults were even more obvious.
This place really needed an overhaul. I’d tried to convince myself that if I gave it enough care and love, I could keep it afloat for a while longer.
But I couldn’t.
After putting away the supplies, I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee. I’d been worried the storm we’d experienced Friday at the airport would do damage to the building, but my neighbor Ms. Adams assured me we only had light rain here.
She’d spoiled me with an apple tart today. I loved her to bits. She’d been Gran’s best friend and missed her as much as I did.
Two years ago, Gran passed away, and she left me the inn. My mother and sister inherited the rest of her things, but Loma House was all mine. I took over this place with such high hopes. My ex-husband, Gary, thought I was making a huge mistake, but he didn’t understand how much this place meant to me. I’d spent many summers here as a child, helping out. It was my last connection to Gran.
I’d had a solid plan. As a finance broker, I’d earned well and built myself a nest egg. It would've been enough to restore this place. I gave the notice at my job a year ago so I could dedicate 100 percent of my time to the inn.
Hannah
––––––––
Hell hath no fury like an inn owner who finds a room trashed.
Everything was a mess.
As quickly as possible, I took stock of the furniture and the floors to see if anything was permanently damaged or if it was all just covered in dirt. There were empty bottles everywhere and plastic cups thrown around the room, boot prints on towels, and who knew what else.
I loved the inn, but days like this one weren't easy. There was no point complaining, though, so I sighed heavily, rolled up my proverbial sleeves, and started cleaning.
I was thankful there was no real damage. I could deal with dirt, but if I had to replace anything, I would probably have a mental breakdown. I could barely afford to pay the property tax, let alone any broken furniture.
I’d checked in the couple myself, but since I wasn’t here when they checked out at lunch today, I simply asked them to put the key in the post box on the outside of the building.Serves me right.
I loved the inn so much. It was a Queen Anne Victorian mansion. It had ten bedrooms, and each of them were almost identical, down to the white drapes and red headboards. The outside was painted yellow and orange, and the tiled roof was gray.
I loved the yard even more than the inn itself. It was much larger than the ones surrounding the nearby homes, and the edge of the property was lined with huge old trees.
The ground floor only had a living room, a bathroom, and the small bedroom I used whenever I slept there. The guest bedrooms and bathrooms were all on the two floors above.
My phone beeped with a message while I was cleaning the windows. Those were the only part of the room that weren't covered in dirt, but since I was deep cleaning every inch of it, I decided to give the windows the same treatment. It was House Cleaning 101 that I learned from my mother.
Mom: Got home safe? I’m still so tired. By the way, the photographer sent some pictures of you and Chase dancing. They are amazing.
She sent me two pictures. She was right. The photographer had captured Chase in all his sexy glory.
I closed my eyes and was instantly transported back to the dance floor. My stomach started with butterflies, and my pulse accelerated. But I was determined not to think about him or that toe-curling, amazing kiss.
My phone buzzed again.
Mom: Everything okay?
Hannah: Yup. Just need to deep clean a room.
Mom: How many bookings do you have for today?
Hannah: None.
Mom: :-(
That about summed up my thoughts right now. Over this past weekend, I'd thought about the inn a lot while I was exploring the hotel.
As I took my mop and the cleaning supplies and went downstairs, I couldn’t ignore the sounds the staircase made or the cracks in the walls. After spending the weekend in luxury, all the inn’s faults were even more obvious.
This place really needed an overhaul. I’d tried to convince myself that if I gave it enough care and love, I could keep it afloat for a while longer.
But I couldn’t.
After putting away the supplies, I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee. I’d been worried the storm we’d experienced Friday at the airport would do damage to the building, but my neighbor Ms. Adams assured me we only had light rain here.
She’d spoiled me with an apple tart today. I loved her to bits. She’d been Gran’s best friend and missed her as much as I did.
Two years ago, Gran passed away, and she left me the inn. My mother and sister inherited the rest of her things, but Loma House was all mine. I took over this place with such high hopes. My ex-husband, Gary, thought I was making a huge mistake, but he didn’t understand how much this place meant to me. I’d spent many summers here as a child, helping out. It was my last connection to Gran.
I’d had a solid plan. As a finance broker, I’d earned well and built myself a nest egg. It would've been enough to restore this place. I gave the notice at my job a year ago so I could dedicate 100 percent of my time to the inn.
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