"Hey! Vale Sigourney!" Audrey snapped, practically fuming.
Not that it did anything. Vale was completely immune to her protests, her anger, her anything.
"I know, I know—I'm devastatingly handsome. Now go take that shower, Miss Smells-Like-Outside," he said with maddening nonchalance. Vale knew exactly how to get what he wanted. And Audrey? She just swallowed her frustration and did as he said.
She couldn't believe how infuriating he was. Honestly, Vale Sigourney might be the most aggravating person she'd ever met.
Or maybe there were more people like him out there—people who were just...difficult. People Audrey instinctively avoided.
For the past 25 years of her life, Audrey had never been the social type. If someone even remotely hinted at being a hassle, she'd find a way—any way—to steer clear.
But with Vale? She didn't know how to avoid him. There was nowhere to run. And with his complete lack of awareness and tendency to bulldoze through boundaries, Audrey was flat-out out of moves.
Funny thing was, the last two years spent alone in this nearly forgotten inn had never actually felt lonely.
Not with Vale around.
Not with his relentless curiosity, his unfiltered opinions, and that way he always, always found a way to insert himself into her world—uninvited, unstoppable.
When Audrey came down after her shower, her senses were immediately greeted by the warm, savory aroma wafting from the kitchen.
She peeked in, only to see his broad back hunched over the stove, stirring something over a low flame.
Outside, rain had begun to fall, tapping the roof in that gentle, rhythmic way that calmed the nerves and stirred something soft in the chest.
Vale didn't say a word as he carefully poured a steaming pot of spicy tofu soup with clams and shrimp into a rustic clay serving bowl, setting it in the middle of the table. The man even had two bowls of rice already prepped like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Vale and his thing for Asian food.
Audrey never complained—mainly because, despite everything, his cooking was surprisingly good.
She took the seat across from him, watching as he moved through the motions with effortless ease.
Not just like someone who'd done this many times before. But like someone who belonged here. Like this was his home. His kitchen.
And in a strange, fleeting moment that nearly undid her, Audrey felt like she was the guest.
Like she was the stranger here.
Maybe it was because Vale knew the ins and outs of this house better than he should. Or maybe it was just that he was that comfortable in his own skin—though Audrey hesitated to call it arrogance. That would've sounded too harsh.
"What're you staring at? Eat up," Vale chided after plopping down in a chair, spoon in hand, ready to dive in.
Audrey turned her gaze to the table now brimming with dishes. Vale really was something—somehow more at ease in her home than she was herself.
She picked up her spoon and began sampling the spicy tofu soup alongside him. It seemed like the crazy man had just reheated whatever he'd brought earlier that day. Still, in this chilly weather, it hit the spot.
Audrey ate heartily, silently aware of Vale watching her from across the table. He offered the smallest smirk before bowing his head into the food, following her lead.
He hadn't forgotten what he'd said earlier. True to his word, Vale began talking business the moment the plates were cleared.
"Not much. Just two guests," he said, leaning back. "They'll be arriving this weekend, staying three nights."
Audrey listened closely as he explained. Two women from California were coming to spend the weekend—from Friday to Sunday. They might even arrive as early as Thursday night, which was only two days away.
Noticing the flicker of concern on Audrey's face, Vale couldn't help but ask, "Something wrong?"
Audrey gave an awkward shake of the head. "No, I'm just a little nervous, I guess. So… three days?"
Vale recognized the thread of anxiety hiding in her tone.
Something like this had happened before—nearly a year ago now. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Two girls booked a five-day stay. What happened next? They showed up five deep and ended up staying for a full week.
Payment hadn't been the issue. It was everything else. Audrey had barely held it together managing five guests on her own.
Thankfully, on the third day, Vale had swooped in and found a part-time helper. Audrey was able to stay in the kitchen while the rest—bedrooms, cleanup, service—was handled by Vale and the extra hands.
That had been her first real crisis. She was so overwhelmed, she got sick right after the Californians left.
"It's going to be fine," Vale said gently. "You've made it through worse. If more show up this time, I'll find extra help again. I've got you."
It took a full minute, but finally, Audrey let out a long breath... and gave a small nod.
"Fine. But you better hold up your end of the deal—you're the one who handed me this hot potato," Audrey muttered, clearly referring to the two guests Vale had accepted on her behalf.
Vale nodded eagerly. "Of course! By the way, how long are you planning to keep this up? Don't you think it's time you hired actual staff? You can't keep running this whole place by yourself forever. You know your business setup's kind of a mess, right?"
Classic Vale Sigourney. He said whatever popped into his head, no filter, no hesitation. Audrey found it grating—but deep down, she knew he wasn't wrong. She was the one who'd been half-committed this whole time. Even the concept she'd built for the inn was a confused patchwork.
An exclusive inn with a max of two guests per week? Sure, in theory. Other countries had places like that—single-staff retreats that ran on charm and personal touch. But for Audrey? She wasn't there yet.
She still wasn't sure this was what she really wanted. Her heart wasn't fully in it. Who's to say she wouldn't wake up one day and decide to walk away from it all? Maybe head to California. Or somewhere even farther.
And if she had employees depending on her then—what would happen to them?
"No, I'm not ready," Audrey replied quietly. "At least for now… I'll just keep doing it myself. Or bring in part-time help if things get too hectic."
This time, Vale didn't press. He just nodded and respected her answer.
Because he got it. This—all of this—was personal. And even someone as bossy and unfiltered as Vale Sigourney knew better than to push when someone's heart wasn't in it.
He wasn't cruel. Not really. He just nudged. And when he saw Audrey hesitate—wanting to do something but unsure how—Vale would shove her forward in his own way. But if there was no will at all, he knew better than to force it.
Then came the day. Guest day.
Two women in their twenties stepped into the gravel lot out front, wheeling sleek bags behind them. Audrey's heart started to pound. Please don't let them be those guests.
"Wait a sec—are you... Audrey Rosewood?" one of the women asked, squinting at her. "We went to the same high school, didn't we?"
Her tone cut the air like a blade, and the judgment in her eyes was unmistakable—sizing Audrey up from head to toe.
Audrey cursed inwardly.
Damn you, Vale Sigourney... and your absolute inability to ask first.