him very well.”
“And
you do?” He had hoped not to have this conversation with her. It was better he
didn’t know.
“I
know all of my guests, especially ones that come here regularly.” She sounded a
little defensive.
“I’m
sorry. You’re right. Look, I’m not trying to pick an argument with you. I was
just hoping you’d stay and talk for a little bit. I feel really terrible about
yesterday.”
“Don’t
beat yourself up about it. It’s all water under the bridge.”
“If
I plead, will you stay for a bit?” He tried to assume his most pathetic face.
She
looked like she was at least considering it.
“I
could grovel as well, if that’s more to your liking.”
The
corners of her mouth were starting to creep up.
“Pretty,
pretty please?” He got down on his knees and grinned. “See? Total begging and
pleading here. I’ve clearly got no self-respect whatsoever.”
“Fine,”
she said, taking her hand off the door knob and heading to the table. “So what
do you want to talk about?”
“Nothing
that will upset you, I think. I’m just curious about how you managed to turn
this place into such a success.” He really wanted to ask how she’d turned this
into a haven for rock stars fleeing the paparazzi, but he didn’t dare. “I mean,
it’s a beautiful place, but you have to admit you get some pretty well-known
guests. What kind of marketing did you do?”
“It’s
funny, really. I had to beg the banks for a loan to fix this place up. You
wouldn’t believe the cost. I figured I’d spend the rest of my life trying to
pay it off. And then, after I’d been open all of two weeks, a friend of mine
who plays in a band took his family here for a long weekend. And he had in tow
a friend of his who just happens to be a pretty famous actor. He’s big on
privacy so I’d sooner not say who. Anyway, he loved it here. So much so that
he’s not even a guest any more. He’s building his own place.”
“Wow.” Wow? Who said wow anymore?
“Yea,
so during that weekend I’m on facebook—this was pre-twitter—trying to appeal to
locals, and booking ad space in the local paper and whatnot, when this guy, the
actor, says, ‘You know, you could make a lot of money here.’ Well, that got my
attention.”
Cam
watched in amazement at the animation she had when talking about the inn. Her
arms were moving, her head was bobbing, and he couldn’t look away. And her
voice. He’d heard a lot of dialects since arriving in Newfoundland, but Elsie,
for the most part, didn’t have the thick accent of most everyone else in
Heart’s Ease that was part Irish, part English, and part American. A few times
in the past he’d noticed a bit of a lilt to her voice, but now, in her
enthusiasm, she had slipped into a beautiful, melodious accent that fit her
perfectly.
“He
tells me that there are a lot of people in the world with money to burn who
would love to come here just to relax in private and get away from their busy
lives. Just to prove it, he starts calling up some of his friends. He’s all
casual, telling them what an awesome weekend he’s having, peaceful, remote, no
press, no fans, and by the time Monday comes I’ve got three actors, and two
musicians with rooms booked. It’s been all word of mouth for them.” She shifted
on the chair and tucked her legs underneath. “Now I still advertise locally,
and get people coming for romantic getaways, or people in the oil industry
coming here for business, or bringing their families while they go offshore,
but I also get calls out of the blue from people who have never seen an ad.”
Her
green eyes were bright with excitement as she spoke, as if she still didn’t
believe her luck.
“Discretion
is key here, you know. And I have yet to have any non-famous guests do anything
to make anyone uncomfortable. Then again, I’ve learned that just because
someone is known the world over, they’re still just