“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s all right,” Nate says quickly. “My sister is understandably upset and not handling it well, so I took care of some of the arrangements.”
“When is the funeral?” I really want to ask for details about what happened to his brother-in-law, but I can’t come up with a polite way of asking.
“Wednesday,” he says causally. “There is a public viewing in the morning. Then the burial will be held privately later in the afternoon.”
I resist the urge to drag my laptop over and start poking around for information, but I don’t even have a name to search for, and the very idea is so stalkerish, I have to stop myself.
Jessie said that the whole east side of town showed up for Nate’s brother’s funeral, and I wonder if that will happen again for his brother-in-law. Should I plan on attending? I don’t even know the man’s name.
“What kind of coffee drink did you order at the lodge?” Nate asks, clearly opting for a new topic.
“A latte. Why?”
“Just trying to learn your preferences.”
“Well, I like the coffee strong but with a lot of cream in it. How about you?”
“Oh, just black for me, but I do like it strong. Did you listen to music in your car?”
“I flipped around the radio stations,” I say. “I haven’t found one that really calls to me yet. Do you have a favorite?”
“I like the heavy metal stations,” Nate says with a laugh. “Loud music relaxes me. Does that make sense?”
“Not at all.” I laugh along with him, but I’m still thinking about coffee. His question reminded me of my conversation with Cher and the slight amount of information she provided that just made me want to know more.
Maybe I should come out and ask Nate about the whole thing. After all, he is part of one of the feuding families and should be privy to a lot more detail than I could get out of my casual conversation with Cher.
I hesitate, trying to pick the right words for the question forming in my mind. I take a deep breath, readying myself to blurt it out before it’s too late, but Nate speaks first.
“I should let you go,” Nate says. “It’s getting late.”
And my opportunity has passed.
“As much as I’d like to spend the whole night talking to you,” Nate says, “I know you’ll need to call Melissa early tomorrow to get that interview. I’m sure they need someone to start right away.”
“Well, I was planning on calling her in the morning.”
“Wouldn’t want you to arrive to an interview unprepared due to lack of sleep, especially when it would be my fault.”
“You seem pretty confident about me getting this job.”
“I am. You are more than qualified for it, and if you do well, there are better positions in your future, should you want them.”
“I suppose that’s…promising.” I swallow hard.
The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach makes my muscles tense. Did he tell Melissa I was going to be calling about a job, or was he planning to do so? Would I walk into an interview with the manager already knowing what kind of coffee I like?
“Good night, Cherry,” Nate says softly.
I can still hear him breathing into the phone as if there is something more he wants to say.
“Good night, Nate,” I finally reply.
I pause, staring at the phone until he ends the call, then sit back and continue to stare at the blank screen for a moment, processing the conversation in my head.
At least I know it wasn’t just the alcohol talking last night. He was charming and clearly interested in seeing me again. Did I want to see him? Yes, of course I did. In fact, I couldn’t wait to see him again.
“Don’t be such a pushover,” I mutter. “You don’t know anything about this guy except that he’s rich, and that is not a plus.”
Jessie told me to be careful.
I consider knocking on Jessie’s door and demanding an explanation, but I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for her level of energy at this time of night. I yawn.
Nate was right about one thing; I need to get some sleep.
Chapter 9—Interview
“Have you ever dealt with governmental forms?”
I plaster what I hope is a confident smile on my face as I try to stop my hands from shaking. Interviews have always scared the crap out of me though I’ve never actually had an interview where I didn’t get the job. Then again, I’ve only interviewed twice in my life before today. I felt the same way as I do now even though the interviewers had been friends of my aunt’s.
“Well, I’ve filed taxes,” I say, still smiling.
Melissa raises an eyebrow, clearly not amused.
“No, outside of that I really haven’t had the opportunity.”
“They can be really complicated,” Melissa says, “or rather, unintuitive and ridiculously repetitive. Once the tree surveys are done, all the forms have to be filled out the proper way.”
“I’m sure I can figure that out,” I say. “I’m very meticulous.”
“That’s a plus.” Melissa stares down at my resume.
“I have references, too.” I quickly pull out another sheet of paper from my folder. “One is from my manager at the diner, and the other is from the head librarian. I know they aren’t local, but I’m sure they’ll tell you I was always on time and hardly ever had to call off work.”
“Hmm.” Melissa doesn’t look up.
I swallow, lick my lips, and stare awkwardly at the paper on the table, not sure what to do next. My nervousness is getting the better of me, and no amount of box breathing seems to
