Chapter 15

It was another rough and restless night. Morgan tossed and turned, waking often. When she was able to sleep, her dreams were jumbled together. Her mother was in almost all of them, along with Brett and her grandmother. Even Greg made an appearance.

By the time she woke early the next morning, she was more tired than when she'd crawled into bed.

Morgan splashed cold water on her face, which seemed to help a little. Chester had abandoned her as soon as she vacated the bed.

She found him in the kitchen guarding his empty food dish. "I know. Your little tum tum is hungry." Morgan promptly filled it with food, emptied his water dish, and added fresh water before starting a pot of coffee.

As was her habit, she made enough for both her and Quinn before remembering her friend had packed up and moved out.

Morgan's eyes were drawn to her scarf hanging from the hook near the door. Her flip-flops—shoes she wore well into the fall season sat tucked against the wall, below the scarf.

"I wonder if Quinn's night was as rough as mine." She pressed her hand to her forehead, wishing more than anything she could turn back time and take back the angry words. Hurtful words hurled in haste. Quinn was family. She was Morgan's family. Elizabeth, Brett, Mrs. Arnsby, Jax and Ben had welcomed them both with open arms and open hearts.

She thought about writing an email of apology, but it seemed so cold and impersonal. She needed to be face to face when she apologized, so that her friend would know the apology was sincere.

Morgan piddled around the kitchen, straightening the junk drawers and cleaning out the silverware drawer, keeping a close eye on the time.

At ten on the dot, she texted her grandmother. Do you think it's safe to head over?

Elizabeth replied moments later: Wait until eleven.

Morgan knew why her grandmother had told her to hold off until eleven. Quinn would be at work, at the art gallery. She would be able to catch her brother alone.

Will do. Morgan set the cell phone aside and settled in at the bar, laptop in front of her. She checked her emails before logging onto the bed-and-breakfast reservation system. The last suite was now booked for the weekend.

Although Locke Pointe was already getting repeat customers, this person was new. Amber Marais. She booked Somewhere in Time, the suite Wyatt and Mrs. Arnsby had named, overlooking the rear yard and offering a peek-a-boo view of the Lilac Inn.

She started to click away when she noticed several notes attached to the reservation listed under the "special request" section. In fact, there were so many, they were bullet-point additions:

- Soy milk for breakfast.

- Feather pillows: 3 (goose down only).

- Gourmet coffee. Preferably Costa Rica reserve brand, medium blend.

- Cotton waffle robe.

- Valet service. Delivery of all bags to the suite.

- Nut allergy awareness. Absolutely no nuts or nut by-products.

- Twinings Earl Grey tea.

- Request a late checkout on Sunday. At approximately three p.m.

Morgan promptly dialed Ronni's cell phone number.

"Good morning, Morgan."

"Hey, Ronni. I was going over the upcoming reservations. Have you taken a look at it today?"

"I have. Let me guess. You saw Amber Marais' long list of special requests."

"Yeah. She's staying for the weekend and making demands like she's staying at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel."

"Her requests do seem somewhat excessive. However, we can take care of them except for the Costa Rica coffee. I'm sure she'll be pleasantly surprised by our preferred brand," Ronni said.

"I hope so. It's a good thing she'll only be here for the weekend. Even a couple of days might be too long," Morgan said.

"She's paying a premium. As you know, our Somewhere in Time suite is a top tier suite." Ronni changed the subject. "Don't forget about our fall decorating plans to kick off our special events."

"How could I forget? I'll finish packing everything up and be over early this afternoon."

Brainstorming together, Morgan and Ronni had outlined a plan to usher in the new season by decorating the inn—everything fall—along with the first of what was shaping up to be an array of exciting events. An evening reception followed by a scavenger hunt.

Morgan had spent hours online, scouring numerous sites over the past month, searching for ideas and ordering decorations. When neighbor and inn owner Grace found out, she asked if they would be interested in hosting a joint event.

Ronni and Morgan answered with an enthusiastic and resounding yes. Participating guests would have an opportunity to find out more about the Lilac Inn while Grace's guests would get a taste of Locke Pointe Bed-and-Breakfast.

"I'll be waiting. In fact, I have some ideas and decorations to add to the mix." Ronni told her Grace had called earlier and set up a time to swing by to go over a few of the details.

"The more the merrier." Morgan ended the call and ran to her room to freshen up. It was almost eleven now and time for her to head to Easton Estate to talk to Brett. She lingered in front of her full-length bedroom mirror, critically eyeing her reflection.

She wanted to appear business-like yet warm. Although Brett was family, this conversation would be all business. She needed to set the record straight, to clear the air and explain she was, in no way, trying to pull a fast one.

Morgan wanted him to be a part of the Wynn Harbor Inn project. There was no reason for her to want otherwise. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that it had been nothing but a huge misunderstanding.

As far as taking on more responsibility, Morgan would press for it. Clearly, Brett felt she wasn't pulling her weight, and she was going to put a stop to it. Today.

She had a small pep talk with herself, grabbed a light jacket, and headed out. As anticipated, Quinn's car was gone. Brett's vehicle was parked off to the side. Morgan parked next to it and climbed out, entering through the back door.

"Good morning." Mrs. Arnsby gave her a friendly wave. "You're looking spiffy this morning."

"Thanks. It's my more casual business-around-the-estate outfit," she quipped. "A little birdie told me Brett was here."

"He is. He ate breakfast in his office this morning and hasn't come down yet."

"Upstairs?"

"Yes, his upstairs office."

"Thank you." Morgan veered left, strolling into the main hall, around to the front and up the grand staircase. She reached the top of the stairs and hesitated in front of her grandmother's apartment door. Morgan would stop by to say hello but not until after meeting with Brett.

Her armpits grew damp, and she began to feel lightheaded. Morgan would have to frame the conversation with the right tone. Brett needed to understand she was not trying to cut him out of the deal. She also wanted to address taking on more of the day-to-day tasks.

A tiny voice in her ear told her to run. She was ill-prepared to discuss such serious matters. Pushing the negativity from her mind, Morgan straightened her shoulders. She marched down the hall to Brett's office door and rapped loudly.

The door opened. Her brother appeared, a look of surprise on his face. "Morgan. What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."