Friends Like Us by Sarah Mackenzie

Author:Sarah Mackenzie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: None
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2020-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Jill yawned, deep and loud. She had stayed up late last night going through her finances to figure out if she could even afford to make an offer on the cottage. Verdict: She could…but only if she used Simon’s life insurance policy.

The realization had left her tossing and turning for the rest of the night. On one hand it seemed like the exact thing Simon would encourage her to do, on the other hand, it seemed so monumentally unfair to use his accident to take that step toward their dream without him.

Every hour she seemed to have her mind made up. Yes! She’d do it. Only to be hit by a wave of crippling doubt. No…what was she thinking?

The teeter-totter of emotions was making her feel vaguely nauseated, and the jittery slosh of coffee in her stomach wasn’t helping.

She needed something to do, simple and practical, to switch off her monkey mind. Maybe hitting “pause” would let the right answer percolate back up to the surface. The pile of applications for the Cranberry Cove Art Fair rivaled the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Jill approached it warily. Administrative duties were never fun, but they could be mindless. She released a soft sigh and rubbed her eyes. Like it or not, this was the perfect time to distract herself with busywork. It was that or stew until her mind boiled over. Jill trudged to the dining table and grabbed the top application.

She raised a brow as she saw the check mark tick in the top box. A first-timer. Those were always exciting.

She took a seat and settled in. Her goal was to grow the Cranberry Cove Art Fair to one of the preeminent artisan events in New England. She adjusted her glasses and read the name: Cooper Haynes. Hmmm. That sounded vaguely familiar—but why?

She glanced over his brief profile—woodworker, specializing in custom furniture, looms, and spinning wheels using reclaimed wood. A light bulb went on. She’d recently spotted this guy’s work at a gallery in Portland. He wasn’t just good—he was great. In fact, she’d even grabbed his business card but then came the hurricane and the destruction of her shop and insurance claims and blah, blah, blah life crisis.

He’d requested one of the small booths on a side street. She snorted. Heck no! Someone with his talent deserved a placement front and center near city hall. She could put him next to Castaway Yarn. The owner, Noreen, knew how to spin wool. She glanced at Cooper’s email address and made a spontaneous decision to reach out to see if he’d like to be moved into a higher profile location. She’d waive the extra cost if he’d allow Noreen to use one of his spinning wheels. The demonstration would be a hit with visitors.

She pulled out her phone and dashed off a quick email. Then she took a peek at a web page she’d saved in her favorites, the one she kept sneaking furtive glances at throughout the day. The cottage at Anchor Court.

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