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“What do you think, Will?” Liza asked him.

“It’s pretty cool. Sort of retro,” Will said.

“Very retro,” Peter echoed. “And I’ll bet they don’t even mean to be.”

After dinner they walked up the street to the movie theater.

There was a movie playing that Will wanted to see-a sci-fi plot about a deadly virus sent by aliens who wanted to take over Earth and a small band of survivors who fight off the space creatures and find a cure.

Liza was sure most of the movie would have her either cringing or snoozing, but she happily agreed to her nephew’s choice. Who knows, I might learn something… about aliens.

There was time before the movie, so they bought ice-cream cones and walked down Main Street. “Look, there’s that antique store Claire keeps mentioning, the Bramble. Let’s look in the window, okay?”

Peter agreed, and Will followed without comment. The store was on the first floor of a Victorian house, painted pale yellow with white trim and dark purple shutters. Liza could see that in the warmer months there was a garden in front. She stepped up on the porch and peeked through the windows. The shop was crammed with antiques, from furniture and quilts to china teacups.

“Wow, this place is stocked,” Peter said. “Claire’s right. They’ll probably take some stuff we want to sell. Maybe we don’t need an estate sale after all.”

That he wanted to sell, Liza nearly corrected him.

But she stopped herself. No need to get into all that tonight. She turned away from the window and headed back down the steps. “I’ll call them tomorrow. Maybe someone will come out and take a look at what we’ve got. I want to keep a few pieces from the inn for my new apartment. I’m tired of all the modern stuff I picked out with Jeff. I’d really love to redecorate with antiques.”

Peter glanced at her. “That’s fine with me. I guess there are one or two things I’d like to take back to Arizona.”

Liza stood at the end of the walk and looked back at the Bramble. “I love the way this place is painted. Maybe we should try a different paint scheme. Wouldn’t the shutters on the inn look great with that color?”

“It’s not just the paint,” Peter pointed out. He gestured at the rest of the street, at the row of beautifully kept nineteenth-century buildings. “It’s the way all these Victorians have been maintained.”

“The inn could look like that again, given half a chance,” Liza argued.

“And half a million dollars,” Peter added.

“Oh, not that much.” Liza started walking down the street and took a lick of her ice-cream cone. Will ran up ahead, taking photos of the old-fashioned streetlamps.

When Peter didn’t answer, she said, “Daniel says the building is pretty sound-the electricity and plumbing and all that. A lot of the work is just cosmetic.”

“You were talking to Daniel about this?” Peter’s tone sharpened.

Liza took a breath. She hadn’t meant for that to slip out, but now that it had, she wasn’t sorry. “I did talk to him a little. It just… came up.”

“I thought we were in this together, not pulling in different directions. Of course Daniel is going to tell you there are no big problems. That inn has been a gravy train for him. It probably supplies most of his income. Of course, he doesn’t want to see a stranger take it over, someone who might not hire him.”

Liza didn’t think that was true. She doubted Daniel would lie to her for that reason. Or any reason, for that matter.

But she did understand why her brother was upset.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t mean to go behind your back. I just wanted his opinion. He knows the building inside and out. It doesn’t hurt to ask, does it?”

“It does if you think it will change my mind about selling the place,” Peter said bluntly.

He had her there. Liza felt a lump of the cold ice cream stick in her throat. She swallowed it down, telling herself to remain calm.

“I’m trying to figure out the very best thing for us to do,” she explained. “I know you’re concerned about money, but the inn could make money for us. In the long run. Much more than we would get from selling it now, especially when it’s such a mess.”

Peter took one last lick of his ice cream and dumped the rest in a trash can. “Liza, what you’re saying might be true. The problem is, I need money now. Not five or even ten years from now. And even if we did keep the place and make a big investment, fixing it up enough to bring in guests again, we just come back to the same questions. How would we run it long distance? Who would manage the place for us?”

Liza had been thinking about this, too. More than she wanted to admit. “I think Claire North could do it. She would probably be happy to stay. And I know we can trust her.”

And I could help run it, she added silently. I could take the summers off. Or even quit my job and work as a freelance graphic artist and designer again.

Peter stared at her, his mouth twisted to one side. “Liza, I know you’re still upset about your job. You definitely deserved better. But don’t toss the baby out with the bathwater.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, I think you’re fantasizing about quitting your job, some showdown scene with your boss that will give you a lot of satisfaction-for the moment, anyway.”

Liza glanced at him, then looked away. Well, that much was true. She did have a fantasy of returning to the office just to quit and tell Eve what she really thought of her.

“Of course you want to escape from your life. To run away and try something completely different. Anybody would,” he added in a kinder tone. “But a week or two more on that island and you’ll be dying to get back to work. I know you. You should use your extra time off to look for a new job, and then you’ll really show them.”

“I already thought of that. I don’t want a new job. It will just be more of the same. I’ll be working my tail off and dealing with the same old office politics. Another Charlie Reiger-or Charlene-will be out to get me.”

All she wanted to think about now was the inn, how she could improve it and open it again.

Peter sighed and put his arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a lot right now, and I want to help you. I really do,” he insisted. “But I just don’t think you’re being realistic.”

“Hey, I think it’s time for the movie,” Will called out to them, as he ran back up the street. “I heard the opening is totally awesome. The aliens, like, land on the Pentagon in these huge pods.”

“That does sound awesome,” Liza said. “I definitely don’t want to miss that.”

Just as they reached the theater, she felt her BlackBerry vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and checked the caller ID.

“Fran Tulley?” Peter asked eagerly.

“No, it’s Eve, my boss. I’d better take this. You guys go ahead.”

“Okay, we’ll save you a seat.” Peter and Will went into the theater, and Liza took a few steps away from the entrance for some privacy.

“Hi, Liza, I’m glad I caught you,” Eve greeted her. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. Did you get my message about needing to stay here longer?” Liza asked.

“Yes, I did. Sorry about the roof. What a mess. You really didn’t need that on top of everything else, did you?”

“No, we didn’t. It’s almost fixed, but it’s slowed things down a lot.”

“I understand,” Eve said in a surprisingly patient tone. “It’s fine if you need to stay longer. But there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. It really can’t wait.”

“Is there some problem?” Liza asked, suddenly feeling anxious.

“Not at all. It’s about the promotion,” Eve replied.

Liza felt like a fly that was about to be hit by a giant swatter. She could barely focus on Eve’s words.