Page 4 of Moonshine and Magnolias (Just Add Peaches #1)

Wendy sat cross-legged on her twin bed and scratched her forehead with the pencil eraser. Morning sunlight cast a glare on her computer screen, so she angled it, careful not to disturb the papers stacked around her.

The Hall’s ledger sat next to her laptop, and she made some light marks to keep her place. She had checked the numbers and the receipts and other sources of revenue three times, and they still didn’t make sense. Where had the extra thousands of dollars come from?

Fountenoy Hall income was clearly marked.

Guests, obviously. Vendor payments for the Pansy Hamilton historical reenactment.

Wedding fees. Donations to keep items of historical value in pristine condition.

Likewise with the expenditures, supplies, employee wages.

Even expenses for the wake yesterday. So unless Grandma Maybelle had been hosting a Vegas-sized poker game in the basement every month, there was no obvious explanation for the extra money.

Wendy leaned back against the pillows to stretch. Posters of boy bands showed the progression through her teens, as did her trophies from high school softball championships. There was no point in redecorating, not when she wasn’t planning on reestablishing her roots like the trees in the orchard.

Breakfast would be starting soon, but it was Brandi’s turn to serve the Upshaws and the honeymooning couple who insisted on staying, even with the memorial service scheduled in the middle of their vacation. Apparently the bride’s parents and grandparents had all honeymooned at Fountenoy Hall.

Wendy had already showered and dressed, but wanted to check the ledger one last time in case she had missed something between answering the plethora of emails from Steward Hotels.

A knock sounded on her door and she glanced at the clock. It had to be either her mom, aunt or Brandi. The first two would be okay. The last would mean trouble.

Wendy closed the laptop and placed the pencil next to the two others on her nightstand, then pushed it up an eighth of an inch to align the tips. She unfolded herself from the bed. “Come in!”

Brandi opened the door and held up a white lace thong.

Her sexy green nightie exposed her creamy shoulders and most of her thighs.

Not appropriate work attire, but there was still eighteen minutes before her shift started.

“Good. You’re awake.” She thrust out the panties.

“Will you please stop doing our laundry?”

Thank goodness the guests were on the second floor so no one saw any lingerie being waved around. “I didn’t have enough of my own to make a full load,” Wendy said.

“So wait until you do instead of pilfering in our rooms.”

“Can’t.” Wendy shook her head. “Yesterday was Laundry Day.”

“So make Wednesday your laundry day. Or Friday. Or just do it when you need it done. That’s how the rest of the world works.” Brandi raised the pair in the air. “Did you iron these?”

Wendy crossed her arms. It was her business how she liked her underwear. “Are you here to talk about my laundry habits?”

“No. Well, yes, and then no. First.” Brandi handed over the panties. “These aren’t mine. They’re Aunt Eulalee’s.”

There’s a mental image that wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.

“Second, can you work the breakfast shift?” Brandi tucked her blond hair behind an ear and avoided Wendy’s frown. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Wendy clenched the frilly material in her palm.

It was just like when they worked summers at the Hall and her cousin blew off the schedule, expecting Wendy to cover.

“Is your sleep disruptor Heath this time? Or Andy? No, Andy was last week. I know.” She snapped her fingers. “It’s Carter. Right? Carter?”

Brandi’s face took on a bored expression. “Are you going to do it for me or not?”

“When we made the calendar, I told you to let me know beforehand if you couldn’t work your assigned shifts.”

“This is beforehand. I don’t have to be downstairs for another twenty minutes.”

“Seventeen.”

Brandi rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“And I meant a day or two,” Wendy said. “I also have things to do, you know.”

“Well, gee. God forbid you do your Thursday tasks on a Friday.” Brandi’s expression crumpled, her smooth skin turning a pale shade of pink.

“I had too much on my mind last night and couldn’t sleep.

With the funeral and the wake yesterday and near-strangers asking how I’m holding up…

” She heaved out a heavy breath and swiped at her eyes.

“I’m sorry I don’t have the ability to compartmentalize like you.

I’ll put learning that on my Saturday list of things to do. ”

Wendy bit the inside of her cheek. Brandi couldn’t use her heart-shaped face and large doe eyes to return to the kept and easy life she preferred.

And since Wendy couldn’t fire her cousin, she’d play the role of teacher until Brandi got the hang of what to do.

Or until she ran off with the next man who offered her the lap of luxury.

“Fine. You do what you need to do. I’ll take the breakfast shift. ”

“I’ll try to do better. And I’ll be at the staff meeting. Nine-thirty sharp.” Brandi’s lips turned up in a smile, but sadness still darkened her eyes. “Thanks.”

She shuffled down the hallway to her own room.

Wendy went back to her laptop and made the change.

It wasn’t that she was inflexible and rigid, regardless of Brandi’s taunt about Laundry Day.

But with having to move so much until high school, Wendy had learned organization made everything easier.

It would also make things smoother for her cousin and aunt when she left.

The printer whirred with the new schedule. She retrieved it and placed it on the dresser with the daily activities for the patrons, making sure the corners lined up, and checked the time.

Ten minutes before her shift. She ran her hand down her ponytail. But there was no reason to hang around when there was work to do.

She picked up the papers, stuck a pencil behind her ear, and tucked her laptop and ledger under her arm.

She smoothed her crisp Fountenoy Hall shirt before heading down the grand staircase.

Aunt Eulalee would already be in the kitchen, preparing pancakes or waffles and eggs and something with peaches.

As she neared the dining room, she inhaled the scent of sausage filtering into the hallway. Eulalee’s cooking was the one thing she would miss when she was back in Atlanta. She stepped into the dining room and gave a silent good morning to her ancestors.

Dr. Upshaw sat at one of the tables, a cup of coffee at hand. He stared at a tablet that lay next to him, his long fingers drumming out a beat that shifted the papers scattered around his saucer. He lifted his head when she moved toward the kitchen.

His hazel eyes were no less intent and intelligent than yesterday, and the same damn awareness made her skin tingle. She’d have to give her brain a talking to later. This kind of immediate heat was never real, and it was messing up her morning.

A large drop of coffee perched on the edge of his cup and she tightened her grip on the ledger to keep from saving his papers from a large stain. It was his fault for laying them out in such a haphazard manner. “You’re up early.”

“I had to get some work done, and my snoring brother made it hard to concentrate. ”

“Then I’ll leave you to it.” She placed her computer and ledger on the sideboard, and posted the daily activity page.

He gave a nod to the paper she had just tacked up. “What’s happening today?”

“Peach picking in the morning, around ten.” Something on the schedule almost every day during the season and always a hit with guests. “We have to do it early since it gets hotter than blue blazes by noon. The afternoon is open.”

“These peaches go into your whiskey?”

Impressive. “You’ve done your research.”

He gestured to his tablet and laughed, a warm, rich sound, and she had to fight her answering smile. “Remember, that’s what I do.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee from the silver server.

“You’ll get to try some of our medicinal brew tonight if you head down to our after dinner drinks.

I hope you come and help pick.” Fiddlesticks.

Why did she have to say that? It sounded like an invitation and she’d have been perfectly happy to spend the morning with only her other guests.

Even if they spent half their time making lovey faces and blowing kisses at each other.

He looked back down at his notes, his mouth twisted in a half-hearted smile. “I’ll try.”

She raised her mug to him and gathered her things, then hurried through the swinging doors.

The black and green tiled walls were the epitome of a quaint country kitchen, missing only Grandma’s charismatic presence.

The sight of her great-aunt alone in the large room brought a fresh ache to her chest. For as long as Wendy could remember, her grandma had been everywhere in Fountenoy Hall.

The kitchen. The office. Even in the orchard.

Eulalee had joined her ten years ago when Grandpa, her brother, had died.

Now it was only her aunt who stood by the massive stove, a red-checkered apron protecting her clothes as the sausage sizzled on the flat cooking surface.

“Oh, good. You’re here.” Eulalee gestured to the stove with her spatula. “Everything’s ready. ”

Wendy posted the new schedule. She donned some hot mitts and slid the pan of eggs out of the oven, then used her hip to push open the swinging doors to the dining room.

Ignoring the man at the table, she placed the food in the chafing dish on the cherry wood sideboard.

When she turned, Dr. Upshaw quickly lowered his eyes back to the paper in his hand.