Page 2 of Make-Believe Match

I gaped at her, goose-necked. “Why haven’t I ever heard about this?”

She lifted her bony shoulders. “One never wants to discuss morbid matters, darling.”

“Oh my God.” My temper was threatening to ignite, but I stayed calm. I wouldn’t win her over with fireworks—Gran appreciated civility. “But—but you can change the will, right?”

She shook her head. “It’s set up that way for a reason, Alexandra. This has always been a family-run resort. It’s too much for one person to handle alone, especially in the present circumstances.”

“I’ll get a business partner,” I said desperately.

“You need alifepartner,” she insisted. “Someone whose investment isn’t just monetary. Someone whose attachment doesn’t hinge on financial gain. Someone who loves Snowberry because he loves you and wants to build a life here.”

I slumped back into the kitchen chair. “Well, I’m sorry. But that person doesn’t exist.” I thought he had, once upon a time. But I’d been wrong.

“Bosh.” Gran waved a gnarled, blue-veined hand in front of her face. “He exists. You just have to keep an open mind. Take Dr. Smalley, for example.”

“Your dentist?” I frowned at the non sequitur. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“He’s widowed, you know, and he’s looking to get back out there.”

An alarm bell dinged in my head. “Good for him.”

“I thought so too. After all, he’s only thirty-five. And in the right light, he’s very handsome.” Gran smiled with meddlesome satisfaction, a glimmer of mischief in her pale blue eyes. “So I took the liberty of arranging a little meet-up for you.”

“What?” I shrieked, bolting upright in my chair. “Gran, you didn’t! In the middle of all this? I can’t!”

“Why not? Do you have plans tonight?”

“You arranged this fortonight?”

“Yes. He’s dropping his kids off at their grandmother’s house, and he’ll pick you up around eight. He thought maybe he’d take you somewhere called...” She set her teacup down and pushed herself out of her chair with some effort. Shuffling over to the counter by the telephone, she picked up a notepad. “The Broken Spoke.”

I shook my head. “Call him and cancel.”

She looked at me, her expression not at all apologetic. “I’m afraid I can’t, darling. I don’t have his number. I arranged it all last week when I was there.”

“And you just decided to tell me about this now?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

I closed my eyes. Counted to three. Took a deep breath.

“It will be good for you, Lexi darling,” she went on in a soothing tone. “You haven’t been out with anyone in such a long time. You work too much.”

“We only have one other full-time employee right now, Gran. And she’s not terribly reliable.”

That would be Tabitha. She was younger than me by three years, and we’d grown up together. As a kid, she’d cheated at board games, cried when she lost, and blamed me whenshewas the one who threw the shoe that broke Gran’s heirloom vase. If there were two different flavors of something, she always got first pick. And even if she changed her mind after licking the cherry Dum Dum sucker and demanded my butterscotch, I had to give it to her or listen to her scream.

She wasn’t my favorite.

“I know,” Gran said. “But she tries hard.”

She didn’t.

“Gran, she spends all her time at the desk scrolling social media.”

“Well, she’s trying to be a travel instigator.”

“Travelinfluencer. And if that’s the case, why doesn’t she ever talk up Snowberry? She’s got a platform.”