Page 22 of The Sugar Maple Inn

Her stomach dropped.

“What’s up?” Sophie asked.

“Zach’s school. Never a good sign.” She put her phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Ms. Sullivan? This is Principal Sergeant. Zach got into another altercation just now over lunch. We need you to come pick him up immediately.”

Grace’s eyes went to Luke’s boat, then across the churning lake to where the island waited. Where the Blackwells were expecting her. Where her entire future hung in the balance.

“What happened?”

“He punched Tyler Morrison. In the cafeteria, in front of multiple witnesses.” The principal’s voice was tight with disapproval. “Ms. Sullivan, this is the third incident this semester. We have a zero-tolerance policy on violence. He’s suspended for two whole days until Thursday, and I’d like you to pick him up now. Frankly, we need to have a serious conversation about whether this pattern of behavior is something we can continue to accommodate at Solace Springs High.”

Damn it.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Grace said.

“Thank you, Ms. Sullivan. We’ll see you soon.”

Grace ended the call and looked at Luke, who was already grimacing because he’d clearly heard enough to know what was coming.

“Another fight?” he asked.

“Yep.”

Luke raked his fingers through his hair. “Man. Z-dog,” he muttered, using his nickname for Zach.

“I know. I know.” She wanted to scream, to throw her phone in the lake, to do something with the rage and frustration and disappointment churning in her gut. She checked her watch. The school was a five-minute walk. Ten minutes to deal with Principal Sergeant and get Zach out of there. Another five minutes to drag his ass back. “Can you wait while I get him, Luke? Then we can head out?”

“Can’t your mom have Zach?” Sophie asked.

“No,” Grace replied. “I need to have a good chat with him. Mom will just take over and say all the wrong things. Anyway, it’ll be suitable punishment, watching his mom do a business presentation.”

“Yeah, will put him off fights for life,” Luke said with a smirk.

“Why don’t you just call the Blackwells,” Sophie said. “Reschedule. They’ll understand.”

“Will they?” Grace laughed bitterly. “ ‘Hi, sorry I can’t make our meeting about me taking on the commitment of running an inn because my kid can’t stop punching people’? That sounds super professional and trustworthy.”

“They’ll know anyway if you turn up with him,” Sophie said.

“Yes, but they’ll also see I don’t let things like that stop me from fulfilling my commitments.”

“Very true,” Sophie said.

“So?” Grace asked, turning to Luke. “Can you give me twenty minutes?”

Luke peered up at the sky. “Sure, Grace. Go get your kid.”

She wanted to hug them both. Instead, she was already turning to run toward the school, her nice presentation outfit completely inappropriate for sprinting, her carefully styled hair coming loose.

Time to face the music.

Nine

Reese

The helicopter bucked slightly as they lifted off from the regional airport, and Reese had to resist the urge to reach for the controls. Flying was second nature to him—had been since he’d gotten his license fifteen years ago—but his own bird was currently getting a service after a memorable encounter with a surprise storm cell over the Rockies last month. It was due back at a hangar near Solace Springs in the next day or two once the work was finished—and that wasn’t soon enough.