The Country Guesthouse (Sullivan's Crossing #5)(2)

She walked toward the back. “It seems to have stopped raining,” Hannah said. “Are you open? The sign says...”

“Barely, but I lit the stove and I have the coffee ready. I was worried about the trees—that was some ice storm last night. If they’re covered with freezing rain they can break off in big chunks—it’s awful. Where you coming from at the crack of dawn?”

“Oh, I was at an Airbnb on the other side of the lake and I’m running away, but I won’t get far without coffee. I hired a car to take me back to the Denver airport.”

“What’s the matter, girl? Didn’t that air thing work out?”

She laughed and said, “The place is beautiful and comfortable and the views are stunning, but I was with a bunch of men at a corporate retreat. They confiscated our laptops and phones and forced us to play psychological games aimed at making us better corporate team members. A worthy thought, but next time I think some of my staff should have a retreat teaching them how to get their work done. That would be so much more helpful.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“I think both. I’m celebrating my escape. And one black for my driver.”

“If you’re celebrating, you should have a sweet roll or muffin,” he said.

The door opened and a woman rushed in. “Sully! There’s a big black SUV parked out—Oh,” she said. She patted down her hair and pulled her hoodie closed. She seemed to be wearing her pajamas and boots.

“We were just getting acquainted, sweetheart. I’m Sully,” he said, sticking out a hand to Hannah. “This here is Helen, who I left asleep when I snuck out.”

“I’m Hannah. I was telling your husband, I was at an Airbnb on the other side of the lake for a corporate retreat—me and a flirty female moderator and a bunch of men. And I decided last night, I’ve had enough.”

“Was it dreadful?” Helen asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Plus, I have a fiancé at home. I’d rather spend my time with him than four men who all think they should have my job.”

“And if you don’t mind—what is your job?” Helen asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Don’t take offense at Helen, girl. She’s particularly nosy. If you’d rather not—”

“I sell hospital equipment for a major distributor. Not bandages or bedpans—more like everything from MRIs to prosthetic joints. I’m a sales manager, which means I have a team working for me.”

“I bet you were at Owen’s place,” Helen said. “He must be traveling again.”

“I honestly don’t know whose house it is. But I’d love to stay in that place when there aren’t any work-related people on the premises. What a great place it would be to recharge.”

“Let me ask you—were there a lot of stunning, artsy photographs and lithographs on display?” Helen said.

“Yes! You know the owner?”

“Well, he’s a neighbor. A well-known photographer. He’s won awards for his work, but he travels so often he finally found a way to make his trips slightly less economically painful—he rents out the house. Look him up sometime—his name is Owen Abrams and he does astonishing work.”

“The house is stunning,” Hannah said.

Sully provided two coffees in to-go cups. “Now, you want a little pastry to go with that?” he asked.

“A couple of muffins, please. It was very nice meeting you both. What do I owe you?”

“Consider it a treat, it’s so nice to meet you. Come back and see us in your leisure time,” Helen said. “Sully has cabins for people not inclined to camp or rent a big house.”

But Hannah was thinking about that house—that lovely, large, beautiful house. The best thing in the world would be to convince Wyatt to take some time off and rent that house for a couple of weeks. It might help mend their relationship. Or failing that, she had girlfriends... Hannah had been working so hard the last several years. Wyatt had as well, but his job as a pharmaceutical sales rep was considerably less stressful than hers as a sales manager. He had only himself and his accounts to worry about while Hannah had to worry about her entire team. He made less money, but he seemed more carefree. Maybe because he was living in Hannah’s house, rent-free.

Hannah had been climbing the corporate ladder for years and was a little burned-out, yet she made too much money to quit. Wyatt’s suggestion was that she see someone about her depression. She hadn’t thought of herself as depressed just because she wished they could be alone together and talk the way they used to.

Then she got home. She hadn’t called Wyatt. She expected him to be home—it was Saturday and it was still early. She heard voices and scuffling. She left her bag and purse near the door from the garage and walked down the hall to the master bedroom. And in her bedroom she found Wyatt and Stephanie frantically scrambling to grab their clothes.

“Seriously?” was all Hannah could say.

Wyatt was sleeping with Hannah’s assistant while Hannah was at a retreat with her colleagues. Rich.

Stephanie looked at Wyatt in a panic and burst into tears. “How am I going to get home? Are you going to take me home?”

“Get an Uber,” Hannah said. “Oh, and you’re fired.”