Mason noticed it immediately. "You brought homework." "It's an itinerary. It has tabs. Tab prevent chaos."
Lily looked at the pages. "There are colors. The colors prevent different kinds of chaos." Mason nodded slowly. "I see why you needed a vacation."
Clare narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here? Vacation in my honeymoon town. Mason glanced around the lobby. I didn't realize you owned Bar Harbor.
I mentioned this place to you. You mentioned it to Lily. Lily raised her hand. Clare looked at her. You said there were whales.
Lily explained. And horses that pull carriages and a mountain where you can see the sunrise before almost everyone else. Clare remembered. Months earlier, she had found Lily sitting outside their apartment while Mason wrestled with a broken grocery bag. Clare had shown her photos from the honeymoon brochure.
Lily had apparently treated it as a sales presentation. She talked about Maine for 6 weeks. Mason said, "Seven." Lily corrected. So, you stole my honeymoon destination.
Mason considered that I prefer independent research leading to the same conclusion. You booked this because of me. Technically because of her. Lily looked between them. Technically because Clare made it sound fun.
Both adults went quiet. Lily smiled. I'm going to look at the fireplace. She left them there with the efficiency of someone who knew exactly what she had done. Clare lowered her voice.
And Grant. Mason's expression shifted. I saw him at breakfast. Clare looked toward the dining room before she could stop herself. Through the wide doorway, she caught a glimpse of a familiar gray sweater.
Grant. He was standing near the windows speaking to a waiter. Clare stepped back. Mason noticed. He seemed surprised when I said you were checking in today.
Clare turned to him. You told him? He asked why I was here and somehow my name came up. He recognized me from the building. That made sense.
Unfortunately, Clare looked toward the dining room again. Grant had not followed her. He had not known she was coming, which meant he had chosen to use their canceled honeymoon, too. Clare folded her itinerary once. Then again, for the first time since Boston, she forgot to care whether the edges lined up.
The question was why? She had assumed the trip belonged to the version of them that no longer existed. Grant had decided otherwise, and Clare had no idea whether that made him sentimental, stubborn, or dangerous. Clare avoided the dining room until 7:30. At 7:30, she decided avoiding it was ridiculous.
At 7:32, she stood outside the entrance, pretending to read the dessert menu like it contained legal advice. Grant was already inside. Of course, he was. He sat alone near the windows, one hand around a glass of water, looking toward the harbor as if he had booked the view and not the emotional disaster attached to it. Clare nearly turned around.
Then a server smiled at her. Table for one. Clare looked at Grant. Grant looked up. Too late.
For now, she said. The server followed her eyes. Oh, are you with Mr. Walker? Clare considered lying. Grant stood.
I can move, he said. That somehow made it worse. No stay. Grant hesitated. That sounded threatening.