Margie smiled, and Claire knew what was coming. She was powerless to stop it, just as Margie was powerless to stop herself from trying to set Claire up with every guy they ever knew. She’d tried to force many romances over the years – the girls’ soccer coach, a substitute teacher, even Margie’s brother Mike.

“Hank is my husband,” Margie said brightly.

Chip nodded. “No kidding.”

Margie continued. “Claire is single though, as you probably know.”

Claire closed her eyes. This was going to be a long tour.

Chapter Seventeen

This friend of Claire’s was a hoot. Chip could hardly keep up with her. When she wasn’t asking questions, she was filling the silence with stories from the past, mostly about Claire.

It took them half an hour just to walk through the lobby. Chip was having a great time, but he thought Claire seemed tense.

When Margie got distracted by a conversation with two passing guests, Chip stepped aside with Claire. “Is everything okay?”

Claire smiled. “Yes, of course. Why?”

“You seem…” Chip shrugged. “Not yourself. We don’t have to continue the tour. I’m sure you’re busy.”

“No, it’s not that.” Claire’s eyes lingered on him, searching.

Searching for what? Words? Studying him? He didn’t know. Chip lost his breath for a moment. Claire had been on his mind constantly since their outing the night before. He felt positively bewitched by her.

At that moment, he had two simultaneous thoughts: how lucky he was to have her attention again, and what a mess it would be to fall in love with his boss.

He cleared his throat. “Please, tell me. I’m here to help.”

A smile flashed on her face, then quickly faded. “It’s –”

“They’re loving their stay!” Margie said triumphantly, rejoining the conversation.

“Er – who is?” Claire asked.

“That couple I just talked to,” said Margie. “They just got married a few months ago and decided to make the trip as a little getaway. So sweet!”

Chip smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”

“Where were we?” asked Margie, beaming.

At Margie’s prompting, Chip pointed out a few aspects of the lobby and explained the challenges of maintaining the Art Deco appearance. Margie was nodding enthusiastically and Chip suddenly realized he might be making a fool of himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Margie. “You’ve already heard about the hotel, haven’t you?”

She smiled and waved a hand. “Just a bit, and it was always quite brief.” Margie looked around, admiring the chandelier above them. “Steve was a friend of mine, but we usually met over in Friday Harbor. How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. I just talked to him a few weeks ago.” Chip felt a pang of shame. The last time he’d spoken to Steve, he was still angry about Claire, still convinced that she would be the bane of his existence. How wrong he’d been.