“I can make more coffee. And I’ll have whatever you’re eating.”
Unlike her brother, who knew his way around the kitchen, Juliette didn’t possess too many culinary skills. Still, even she could manage a garden salad, and she always had grilled chicken included in her weekly grocery deliveries.
Holly followed her toward the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee machine. “I might know of someplace you could go where the media wouldn’t bother you. Really, I don’t think anyone would bother you. But it’s nothing like the places you usually visit.”
She’d consider almost anywhere if it meant no nosy photographer or reporters. “As long as it doesn’t involve a tent out in the middle of a forest, I’m open to suggestions.” She’d forgo access to a beach or five-star spas, but she drew the line at not having a comfortable bed and a roof over her head.
“Avon, New Hampshire,” Holly answered, joining Juliette at the kitchen island and setting down both coffee cups. “There is a campground on the northernmost part of Avon Lake. It’s owned by the Wright family. They close up most of the cottages in the fall, but a few they rent out year-round. There’s a ski resort about twenty-five minutes away, and skiers will sometimes stay there instead of the resort because it’s cheaper.”
An image of a log cabin with no running water or electricity in the middle of a campground came to mind. “Yeah, I can live without room service, but I need running water and heat, Holly.”
“It’s not some rustic campground. All the cottages have everything a house would. Some even have two or three bedrooms. And they all have access to the lake, although it’ll still be too cold at this time of year to swim in. It might even still have some ice on it. And even if we don’t ask Mrs. Wright not to share that you’re there, she won’t email the Star Insider or announce your arrival on Twitter the minute you check in. She’s not like that.” Holly snagge
d a grape tomato from the plastic container and popped it in her mouth.
A cottage overlooking a lake somewhere up in northern New Hampshire sounded rather lovely. More than once, Holly had shared details about the small town she’d lived in until moving to New York, and it did sound charming.
“I can call Mrs. Wright and make reservations for you. She knows me. She and my mom are friends, and her youngest daughter and I were friends all through school. We still text each other every once in a while.”
Juliette considered her friend’s suggestion. If Holly believed she wouldn’t be bothered, she trusted her assessment. And while the town might be small and in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t as if she planned to relocate there permanently. “Are the cottages close together?”
Holly had said not many people stayed there this time of year, but on the off chance others were there, she didn’t want any neighbors staying mere feet away.
“Unless they’ve changed things since I was last there, it depends on the one you stay in.” She grabbed a slice of cucumber off the cutting board. “If you’re worried about neighbors, you could always stay in one cottage and rent out the ones on either side of you. That’s what I’d do.”
Juliette added an equal portion of cucumbers and tomatoes to each bowl before reaching for the bag of shredded carrots. “Exactly what I was thinking.” Depending on how many cottages were available right now, maybe she’d just rent them all out for the next two or three months and guarantee she had the place all to herself.
“If you have the number, I’ll call before we eat lunch.” The sooner she made reservations, the sooner she’d get away from the city.
Chapter 2
Aaron logged out of his email and closed his laptop. Quasi-vacation or not, work emails never stopped. While some he could leave until he returned home, others required more immediate attention. With all those out of the way, he considered himself free for the rest of the day.
“Uncle Aaron, Dad says breakfast is ready,” his eleven-year-old nephew, Mason, called from the other side of the door.
Since he was attending a conference in South Carolina anyway, he’d decided to fly down a few days before the conference started and visit his older sister and her family. While not exactly a vacation in some tropical location or Europe, the visit gave him a break from his normal routine and allowed him to spend time with people he saw far too little. And as much as he loved every minute here, sometime soon, he needed a true vacation. One that included either doing nothing on a warm beach while soaking up the sun or seeing all the historical sites in Europe he still hadn’t checked off his very long list—a list he’d started to compile while in high school. So far, he’d only crossed off a handful of places in England.
After shoving his cell phone in his back pocket, Aaron opened the door, not at all surprised Mason was nowhere to be seen. If there was food in the kitchen, the kid would be there filling up his stomach. In that regard, his nephew reminded him of himself at that age.
The scent of bacon greeted him before he reached the kitchen. The popular breakfast meat might not be the healthiest thing in the world, but man, it tasted and smelled heavenly—at least to him. His younger sister would disagree.
As he expected, Mason sat at the kitchen table shoveling food into his mouth as fast as humanly possible while Aaron’s older sister, Elise, sat across from him sipping coffee and reading a magazine. Elise looked like a younger version of their mom. In fact, if he looked at pictures of their mother at Elise’s age, you’d think Elise had somehow traveled back in time and sat for the photos. That being said, Elise inherited none of their mom’s skills in the kitchen. The woman ruined even oatmeal, and forget about something as simple as a grilled cheese sandwich. Thankfully, her husband possessed all the skills his wife didn’t and prepared most of the family’s meals. At the moment, he stood at the stove cooking pancakes.
Aaron snagged a slice of bacon off the plate on the table on his way to the coffeepot over by the stove.
“Is the next batch done?” Mason asked after he stuffed a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.
“Almost, but your uncle gets first dibs.” Nick flipped a golden-brown pancake and glanced over at him. “Aaron, these have blueberries in them, but I can make some without if you want.”
“As long as you’re the one making them and not my sister, I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me.”
“Hey, your sister is getting better. She managed toast last week.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Aaron added a generous amount of cream and sugar to his coffee—no self-respecting New Englander drank it any other way—before sitting down at the table. “I can’t believe you read that—”
He caught himself before he finished, although Aaron suspected his nephew heard a lot worse than the four-letter word he had in mind while on the school bus. At least he’d heard much worse when he rode the bus at Mason’s age. Still, it never hurt to be more selective with one’s language.
“—stupid magazine.” He didn’t understand why anyone cared what people with more money than brains did on a daily basis.