Page 21 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
“Mommy!”
Coby was shoving open the lobby door with Mom trailing close behind.
“Hey!” I stepped around the corner and bent low to give him a hug. “How was your date with Nana?” Every Wednesday night, Mom had a special dinner date with Coby at the café, just the two of them.
“I got ice cream!”
“Yummy. Did you bring me some too?”
His eyes got wide with worry as he turned back to Mom. “Nana, we forgot Mommy’s ice cream.” His words got jumbled in his panic and “forgot” came out more like “fwor-got” and “Mommy’s” was a rushed “Mi’s.”
“It’s okay, buddy.” I stood up and ruffled his hair. “I have to eat some dinner first anyway. What did you guys have?”
“Cheeseburgers!” he and Mom shouted together. They always had cheeseburgers.
Coby’s smile turned shy as he looked around and noticed a stranger in the room. Mom noticed Hunter too, but instead of getting shy, she gave his backside a full head-to-toe assessment, then turned her eyes to me and mouthed, “Wow.”
I rolled my eyes and started introductions, hoping that Mom would stop fanning herself soon. “Mom, this is Hunter. He’s a guest here. Hunter, this is my mother, Marissa. You might see her from time to time because she helps in the office when I’m busy.”
He turned and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Mom said without letting go of his hand. “Oh, you’re a photographer!”
“Actually, I’m—”
“You should take pictures for the rooms!” she interrupted, still holding onto his hand.
“Mom, let him go.”
“Whoopsie.” She pretended to be embarrassed but she was still holding his hand.
“Mom, his hand?”
Reluctantly, she released him. “Sorry. Anyway, like I was saying. You should take pictures for the rooms. Maisy, tell him your idea.”
I pursed my lips and gave her my best “butt out” look but she ignored me completely.
“Tell him your idea.”
Hunter’s eyes were waiting when I turned back his way. “Idea for what?”
“The artwork in the rooms. Right now, I have standard, cheap hotel art—obviously, you know that since you have a room. Anyway, I’ve been remodeling all the rooms for the last few years but haven’t invested in art yet because I want to commission something special. I was thinking of doing a collection of photographs from places in town and the surrounding area and then having each room be different.”
“Tell him the postcard part,” Michael said before Hunter could comment.
I gave my brother the same “butt out” look—which also went ignored—and looked back to Hunter. “I thought I’d make postcards that correspond to each room’s art, and guests would get one when they checked in. They could send them to family members or collect them from various stays. Whatever they want. I just thought it would be something unique.”
Explaining the idea out loud always bothered me. Everyone loved my postcard idea, but I’d always wavered. Some days I thought it was a stroke of genius. Other days I thought it was lame and dorky. Since I really didn’t want Hunter to think I was a dork, I bit my bottom lip as I waited for his response.
“I like it,” Hunter said. “The whole thing sounds like a nice touch. The pictures and the postcards. I think people would really like it and it’s different from what you’d see in any commercial hotel.”
My lip dropped out of my teeth. “You really think so?”
His face broke into a breathtaking, wide smile, showcasing his perfectly straight white teeth. “Really.”
I was so doing those postcards.
“Excellent!” Mom clapped. “Then you’ll take the pictures?”
