That seemed even more likely when he said, “Why not take a look at the bedrooms, Ian. Get some shots, for the review, if I write one.” And that was the real kicker: all of this work and Guy still might not write a review, good, bad, or ugly. “I’ll stay here and chat with the lovely Susan. You were saying….”
Jude led the way upstairs with Ian behind him, trying hard not to worry about whatever Susan might share. If anyone was on their side one hundred per cent, it was her. He lifted the latch to the bedroom that used to be his and stood back to let Ian pass him.
“This is nice,” he said, lifting his camera and checking the light before he took some shots. “Very nautical.” He moved some of the seafaring objects that Lou had used as decoration. “That blue is a lovely contrast.” He tugged at the fabric Jude had placed at the end of the huge bed. “It’s the same colour as the sky out of the window.” He stood, considering before saying. “Come here.” Before Jude knew it he was shaking the sarong out over and over while Ian took photos of the fabric spilling from his fingers.
“You sure you want me in these photos?”
“Might as well showcase your business’ best assets.” Jude frowned, so he added clarification. “If Guy writes a review, a lot of readers will get to see that the Anchor has some eye candy.”
Eye candy? Jude couldn’t help laughing. “Me? You should photograph my boy—” Flustered, he quickly changed course. “I mean, my business partner.”
Ian ignored Jude’s last sentence. Instead, he revisited his first one. “So you finally hooked up?” Ian took some shots from the window, making sure the pub sign was in view with the harbour behind it. He said, “I could see he had the hots for you during the contest,” oblivious to Jude reeling at how easily he’d almost applied the boyfriend label to Rob.
Jude led the way to Louise’s old room. “I guess you could say that he’s persistent.”
“Persistent enough to find out why you bailed on the contest?” Ian took a couple more shots before walking farther down the hallway. “Why did you?” he asked, his hand on the latch to Jude’s parents’ bedroom door.
“Not in there,” Jude warned, tone much sharper than was maybe needed. Ian held up his free hand in supplication. “Sorry….” Jude raked a hand through his hair. “That room isn’t for customers.” His voice lowered as he took the latch in his own hand for the first time since returning. “It’s my parents’ room.” When Ian only let out a small sound of interest, Jude found himself continuing, the door creaking as he unlatched it. “I bailed on the contest because they….” Beyond the doorway, his parents’ bedroom looked just as they left it, a riot of colour and knick-knacks, every surface cluttered. “They were lost at sea.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”
“I didn’t exactly stick around long enough to explain. Getting home from London, and then going to look for them seemed a lot more important. I only got home a few weeks ago. I didn’t recognise the place.” Compared to the other bedrooms, this one was a chaotic muddle that Jude drank in, crossing to his mum’s dressing table to pick up her perfume bottle. His inhale was staggered—his mum so present in scent form that he didn’t catch the click of the camera shutter or Ian’s next question. “I-I’m sorry. What was that?” he turned just as Ian took another photo.
“I said,” he repeated, his tone so much softer than Jude could deal with while maintaining eye-contact. “Did you find them? Your parents?” Maybe Jude’s silence was enough of an answer. “I am sorry,” Ian said quietly before tagging on another question. “So how come Rob ended up here after winning? I thought he was set on taking over the Martin empire.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“From his dad. Several times. Right the way through the contest. He’d tell anyone who’d listen.”
Jude didn’t explicitly answer. “Rob’s been amazing,” was all he said aloud. “I didn’t expect to find him here when I got back,” he said, honest as he added, “Now I can’t imagine this place without him. He’s been so generous to both me and my sister.”
“Generous?”
“Yeah, with his time, and frankly, with his money.”
“The prize from the contest? But that wasn’t exactly a life-changing amount, was it?”
“Maybe not to you,” and in