enough. Now.” Hope rubbed her hands together. “Let’s go play closet.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
AS ARRANGED, OWEN ARRIVED AT VESTA AT NINE THIRTY sharp to meet and interview Hope. Since she’d promised to stay out of the way, Avery busied herself with the morning prep—firing up the pizza ovens, making the sauces in anticipation of Saturday business when they opened at eleven.
When Owen walked in, Hope sat at the counter drinking coffee as she looked over her notes.
Owen shifted his briefcase to his left hand, held out his right. “Hope.”
“Owen.”
“It’s nice to see you again. Appreciate this, Avery.”
“All for the common good,” she said from the stove. “Coffee?”
“That’d be great. I’ll get it.” At home, he walked around to the pot she had on one of the twin burners, poured, then added a dose of sugar. “Why don’t we take a table?” he suggested. “So, how was your trip up?”
“Not bad.” She took her seat, gauging him as she knew he gauged her. His eyes, a clear, quiet blue, stayed direct on hers. “I left early enough to miss the traffic.”
“I don’t get down to D.C. often. Traffic’s one of the reasons.” A smile shifted, softened the angles of his face. “Things move a lot slower up here.”
“Yes, they do. It’s a pretty town.” She kept her tone carefully noncommittal. “I’ve enjoyed the area when I’ve come up to see Avery and Clare.”
“It’s a big change from Georgetown.”
Circling each other, she decided. Well, she knew how to dance. “I’m looking for change. Rehabbing and reimagining a building like the inn, with its long history, must be a big change from the kind of work Montgomery Family Contractors has done in the past. You and your family have rehabbed old buildings before, including the one we’re sitting in, but nothing on this scale. It must be a challenge.”
“It is.”
“And owning an inn, with all its demands, issues—quirks—that’s a big change from a more traditional landlord role.”
Who was interviewing whom? he wondered, and decided he liked her.
“We thought about it for a long time, blended viewpoints, and came up with a specific vision. We’re going to make that vision a reality.”
“Why an inn?”
“I’m betting you researched the history.”
“That doesn’t tell me why you and your family conceived this particular vision.”
He considered her while she questioned him. He gave her points—for appearance, to start. Killer looks, and she knew how to play them. The sharp style of her hair set off her eyes. The cut and rusty red color of her suit set off her body, and telegraphed control and authority.
Big, sultry eyes, he noted, offset by an air of coolness.
It was a nice combo.
“It was originally a tavern stand,” he told her, “a place for travelers to rest, rest their horses, get a meal. Over time, various owners added on. The name changed, but for more than a century it served as an inn. We’ll make it an inn again, respecting that history. While bringing it into the twenty-first century.”
“I’ve been getting the rundown on some of the features.” She smiled then, warming up the cool.
He gave her more points.
“We’re having some fun there. This area has a lot to offer visitors. Antietam, Crystal Grottoes, Harpers Ferry, and plenty more. Right now, there’s no place for those visitors to stay in Boonsboro. Once there is, we’ll draw people in, people who’ll want to eat, to shop, to sightsee. We want to give them a unique experience in a beautiful place with exceptional service.”
“Exclusive, individual, historic. It’s an interesting concept, naming the rooms after literary couples.”
“Romantic couples. Each room has its own flavor, its own feel. Couples are a major clientele of B&Bs. We’d like to draw honeymooners, couples celebrating an anniversary or special occasion. Give them a memorable stay, so they’ll come back, and tell their friends.”
And enough about us, he thought, sipped some coffee.
“Your resume certainly qualifies you for the innkeeper position.”
“I have a hard copy of the file I emailed you if you want it.”
“Sure.”
“You’d need the innkeeper to live on-site.”
“Can’t keep the inn by remote. We’d provide the apartment. It’s a two-bedroom on the third floor. Living room, bath, smallish kitchen, but the innkeeper would have access to the main kitchen, and the laundry facilities.”
“She—or he—would have to cook.”
“Just breakfast.”
“I’d think you’d want more than that. If you’re providing B&B service, you’d want homemade cookies, muffins, or some other type of thing to offer during the day. Wine and cheese in the evening.”
“That’d be a nice touch.”
“Avery had an idea about offering