“I have a room until after the first.”

Winona glared at him. “Had. You turned in your key, and we’ve rented out the room to the Pinkertons. They come every year.” She narrowed her eyes. “We like them.”

Micah shifted the bag of avocados he’d brought with him to his other hand. “Wait a minute. I’ve been in Los Angeles. I never turned in my key.”

“You sent a friend. A woman. She did it for you. Your stuff is all packed and waiting to be shipped back to your manager. I’ll take care of that just as soon as it snows again.” She smiled. “I’m going to accidently leave the boxes outside so they get nice and wet. Then I’ll send them.”

A woman had come to Wishing Tree? What—

He swore under his breath. “Electra. That’s why I couldn’t find my room key.” He thought about the morning he’d started recording. She’d shown up to talk to him, but he’d refused to see her. He’d left his backpack on the table when he’d gone in to record. She could have easily gone through it. Taking his key and coming to Wishing Tree was just like her.

“You shouldn’t be wasting your time here,” Winona told him, obviously still pissed. “You should be heading for your tropical vacation. Let me see. What was it? Three weeks of sand, sun and sex. Yes, that’s what she said. Dena told me. Through her tears.”

Her words were a two-by-four to his gut. He nearly doubled over as the realization of what had happened swept through him.

“No,” he said, sickened by what he’d put Dena through. He never should have stayed in Los Angeles. He should have convinced her to go with him, or he should have insisted he record in Seattle rather than LA.

“Electra talked to Dena?” he asked, already knowing the truth.

“You mean the skanky redhead? She did.” Winona’s lip curled in disgust. “And to think I used to like you.”

“It’s not what you think.”

She held up her arm. “Tell it to the hand.”

He looked at his watch. “She’s in class, right? When is lunch? Eleven thirty? Twelve?” He set the bag of avocados on the desk. “Can you hold these for me? I’ll give them to her later.”

Winona’s expression turned suspicious. “What did you bring her?”

“Avocados. She likes them, and this time of year they’re hard to get in Wishing Tree.”

Winona looked from the bag to him. “That’s not much of an ‘I’m sorry’ gift.”