stressed? It was a lot of responsibility, taking on the Manor, along with all of its bills, its grounds, the guests, or lack of them. What had her aunt and uncle been thinking?
What made them believe she could do this? Had they even considered that she might fail? And then, throwing Ethan into the mix — they must’ve been out of their minds. It would never work between them. He irritated her, and to him she was nothing more than an amusement. They should’ve sold the entire thing to an investor rather than dividing it between her and Ethan.
Emily glanced at the clock on the wall, its quiet ticking a constant backdrop to the quiet in the kitchen. It was time to poach the eggs as the guests would be down soon, and the bread would be ready as well.
By the time she had everything prepared and had carried it in silver chafing dishes to the dining room, the guests appeared at the bottom of the steps and wandered in.
“Good morning,” she said.
They nodded their hellos and set about serving themselves from the small buffet she’d set up. The scent of freshly baked sourdough filled the room, along with the warmth from the fireplace. She stood beside the espresso machine and took orders from both guests, before retreating to the kitchen to clean up. As she walked away, an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction filled her heart. She’d done it, served her first breakfast at the Manor alone and so far, it seemed the guests were happy with everything. All it would take for more guests would be for her to increase the amount of food, and that wouldn’t take much more effort. Maybe she could do this after all.
Chapter 10
Ethan
The words on the page weren’t drawing him in like they usually did. Something was distracting him from the thriller in his hands. Ethan folded it shut and set the book on the bedside table. His hair, still damp from the shower, fell onto his forehead and he swept it back with one hand.
Something was bothering him.
Or someone.
It was her. Emily Jones. She’d gotten under his skin. He’d vowed to himself while he was out riding waves that morning, that he wouldn’t let her. They had a business relationship, and from his point of view he intended on owning his share of the Manor long term. Which meant he had to get along with her, at least well enough to maintain their professional relationship. He had no idea what he’d done to upset her, or perhaps she was like that with everyone — bristling, abrupt, anger bubbling beneath the surface.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. Never mind, he’d managed difficult people before, and he could manage her as well. He had to dig deep for that charm he kept for the most challenging clients, it never failed. Only this time, he had a hunch it might not work the way it usually did.
With a grunt he got out of bed and stretched his arms over his head. His muscles ached from the long day. His body still wasn’t used to surfing on a daily basis and coupled with the physical labour he was doing at the Manor and in building the dining table in the backyard, every part of him hurt. Including the base of his spine where something seemed to be pinched and twinged with almost every step he took.
He spent a few minutes stretching his muscles and his back on the carpet. Then, wandered out to the kitchen, where the scent of Italian food beckoned. His stomach rumbled, and he licked his lips when he saw a basket of garlic bread on the bench. One look in the oven, revealed two cheesy lasagnes. He swallowed hard.
“Smells delicious mum. Are you cooking for a crowd, or for leftovers?”
Cindy grinned, as she sliced tomatoes. “I’ve invited a few people to dinner.”
“Oh?” He reached for a piece of garlic bread, and she slapped his hand away.
“It’s almost time to eat, you can wait… I’ve invited Athol, as well as Sarah and Mick.”
“That’s good, I’m looking forward to seeing Sarah. I haven’t seen much of her or Mick since I’ve been back.”
Cindy nodded. “That’s what I thought. Time for a family catch up. And I invited Emily as well.”
His stomach fell. “What? Emily Jones from next door? Why would you invite her?”
Cindy shot him a sharp look that only a mother can give her son. “She’s on her own in