Chapter 5: Monday at Ten

I didn't call him back.

At five to ten on Monday, I stood behind the paneled door of the stone house's dining room with Rory at my shoulder.

I wore the only good thing I owned, a navy dress I'd bought for a funeral.

Rory had found me a pair of my grandmother's pearl studs in a drawer upstairs.

I could hear them through the door.

"It's a beautiful property," Austin was saying. "Daphne has told me wonderful things about the owner."

"Mr. Van Dorn's heir," Daphne said, in the happy voice of a girl who thinks she's winning.

"I haven't met her yet. They say she's very young."

"Then she'll be easy to impress," said Phyllis.

Rory looked down at me.

"Last chance to change your mind."

"I'd like to see their faces."

"Then I'll be right behind you." He pushed the door open with two fingers.

The dining room had a table that sat twenty-four, polished black walnut, and a window with the whole orchard laid out below.

Austin, Daphne and Phyllis sat together at the near end with a glossy binder open between them.

A dozen of the inn staff stood along the wall with coffee, because Rory had told them to come, and none of them knew why.

I walked down the length of that table in my funeral dress.

Nobody looked up until I was halfway.

Then Phyllis lifted her head, and Austin turned, and Daphne said, "Oh, hello, you came about the housekeeping job, didn't you?"

I kept walking.

I stopped at the far end, pulled out the chair at the head of the table, and sat down in it.

Rory stood behind my shoulder with his arms folded.

The room was very quiet.

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