Opening it, she held her breath as she read, Pitch meeting for SmartTech has been moved up to this Friday at nine thirty a.m. They loved the proposal and don’t want to wait until after the long weekend. Need you here.

A month before, she’d have been jumping in her car and heading back to the city immediately, letting Whitney take over the event and putting the inn on the market from a distance, but now it wouldn’t be as easy to walk away from her hometown.

What the hell was wrong with her? This was her career. Her promotion was riding on this pitch. This was what she wanted.

Friday.

Oh no! That was Marissa’s parents’ day at camp.

Sarah bit her lip as she stared at the message, unsure how to reply. Maybe she could ask Gail if they could keep the original pitch time. Or maybe she could do the pitch in the morning and still make it back in time for the camp event. Marissa said it started at noon. It would be tight, but as long as the pitch was only an hour, like most… Either way, she knew she had to be there.

She squared her shoulders and, hitting reply, she typed, Of course I’ll be there.

But guilt immediately washed over her as she hit Send. She’d promised Marissa she’d be there for her as well. Disappointing the little girl had Sarah’s chest tightening. But this was work. It was important. And she wasn’t actually a parent…

Her stomach twisted. If she was going to be with Wes, be in their lives, she would be a parent. She’d need to step into that role for Marissa. Surprisingly, the idea didn’t scare her. She loved the idea of being in their lives, and she knew she could be a great friend to Marissa and hopefully eventually the stepmom she deserved.

Would she understand if Sarah didn’t make it to camp that Friday? Would Wes?

Sarah sighed. There had to be a way she could do both. She would hate to have to make a choice, but staring at the sent reply to her boss, she felt like she already had.

…

As Wes turned into the driveway of the B&B that evening, he couldn’t help the sense of pride at seeing the newly renovated inn. It had all its original charm but was stronger and sturdier to last another hundred years or more. He climbed out and headed up the path toward the front door.

Seeing Whitney standing on the lawn snapping photos on her cell phone, Wes shook his head. Always on the clock. Whitney probably dreamed of her to-do list when she slept. He’d never met anyone who worked harder than that woman. He stopped next to her. “Hey, Whitney, how are you?”

“Oh, hey, Wes,” she said with a smile. “This place looks incredible.”