The Time of Her Life. Jeanie London

was Jay supposed to make time to lobby the state legislature or Alzheimer’s Association or pharmaceutical corporations or private medical research facilities and run The Arbors with its endless assessments, intakes, evaluations and treatment plans?

      There were two hundred and fifty employees. There were one hundred and twenty residents, and most came with families who needed to be reassured, educated, informed and answered to about quality of care. There were volunteers and private companions and churches and all the outside resources that ministered to the residents to provide quality of life.

      And quality of death. How many nights had Jay hoofed it here in the dark to meet funeral directors and deal with grieving families after a resident died?

      Walter knew better than anyone what running this place entailed, and he’d heard all these arguments before. He might not want to retire until he was wheeled out of his office on a gurney, but he wouldn’t live forever.

      Neither would Jay, and he had no intention of spending the rest of his life without actually living. And life wouldn’t start until he left The Arbors.

      * * *

      SUSANNA SMILED AT THE young woman behind the reception desk, who didn’t appear much older than Brooke.

      “Good morning,” the girl said, the lilt to her voice all Southern charm and novelty to a born-and-bred Yankee.

      “Good morning.” Susanna handed a business card to the young woman whose engraved badge identified her as Amber.

      Susanna had already reviewed personnel files, so this young woman must be...

      Amber Snelling, first-shift receptionist.

      Currently working on her BSc in Operations Management.

      Daughter of the Activity Director.

      Amber glanced at the business card, eyes widening. “Ms. Adams!” She was on her feet instantly, extending a hand. “Welcome to The Arbors. We knew you were coming in today, but Mr. C. didn’t tell us when.”

      Mr. C. would be Jay Canady, administrator and owner. The man hadn’t told his staff when she would arrive, which meant he couldn’t be too worried about them being on their best behavior. That said something about Mr. C.’s confidence in his employees.

      “I came from Raleigh and wasn’t exactly sure how long the drive would take.”

      “Raleigh. Wow.” Amber said. “I hope Mr. C. brought you through Asheboro so you didn’t deal with the traffic on 85.”

      Mr. C. hadn’t brought her through Asheboro because Susanna had let her GPS lead the way. “I’m happy to report the traffic wasn’t bad at all.”

      Of course, traffic was relative, and Susanna only had New York to compare.

      “What time did you leave?” Amber asked.

      “Around five.”

      She glanced at her computer display. “Hmm. Not too bad. Mr. C. told everyone you’re from New York—as if I couldn’t tell from your accent. Have you been to Charlotte before?”

      Susanna shook her head.

      “Well, make sure you ask about shortcuts while you’re learning your way around. Of course, if you’re anything like Mr. C., you probably won’t get off the property all that much. But be aware that some shortcuts are better than others. Someone around here is bound to know which is which.”

      “Thanks, Amber. I’ll remember that.”

      Amber glanced in the direction of the administrative offices then surprised Susanna by continuing the conversation. “When you do manage to get out of here, visit Concord Mills. It’s a huge shopping mall by the Charlotte Speedway, so when you go make sure you plan to spend the whole day.”

      “Then I’ll have to bring my daughter when she comes to visit. Shopping is one of her favorite things to do.” When Mom was swiping the plastic, anyway.

      “Your daughter doesn’t live with you?”

      “Only in between semesters. She’s in her third year at William and Mary.”

      “I’m in my third year, too. At UNC. But I’m probably older than your daughter. I work here full-time, so I never take more than three classes. My degree is taking forever.”

      Susanna wasn’t sure how to reply and went the philosophical route. “I’m sure when all is said and done you’ll look back and think school took exactly as long as it should have.”

      “I hope you’re right.”

      Did The Arbors encourage staff to be so friendly, and chatty, or was Susanna sampling real Southern hospitality? She didn’t want to cut off the conversation rudely, but she needed to let the owner know she was here, so she didn’t appear late.

      When she opened her mouth to prompt Amber, a man suddenly appeared with an older gentleman in step behind him.

      “Mr. C., Mr. Higgins. Guess who’s here?” Amber announced.

      “I see.” The younger of the two gentlemen inclined his head to acknowledge the receptionist. Then his gaze fixed on Susanna as he strode toward her, all broad shoulders and quick energy. His smile was wide and fast. “Jay Canady, Ms. Adams. Welcome to The Arbors. Walter Higgins, our CFO.”

      For a moment, Susanna stared. That voice. Deep-throated, like honey melted in whiskey, not a drawl, but soft, stretching vowels that made every syllable distinctive. It took another moment to realize he was waiting for a reply. She’d stopped breathing. Literally.

      What on earth was wrong with her?

      “A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen,” she managed. Then she was shaking hands and making more chitchat while distracting herself with memory associations so she wouldn’t forget names.

      Walter Higgins, dapper elderly chap with a bow tie. CFO, my old job.

      Jay Canady, aka Mr. C. The man who wants to sell off this gorgeous facility.

      Not that she would need a memory prompt to remember him.

      Susanna had reviewed the man’s biographical data. Although she knew he was thirty-two years old and the third generation to run this facility, Jay Canady wasn’t what she’d expected.

      He was all chiseled lines and ruthless masculinity. Neatly trimmed blond hair contrasted sun-scorched skin that suggested he spent time outdoors, a fact reinforced by his toned physique. And his eyes were the greenest green she’d ever seen.

      Susanna wasn’t sure what she expected a man who ran a memory-care facility to look like, but she hadn’t expected hints of David Beckham and Eomer from The Lord of the Rings.

      “Northstar promised to send us the perfect property director, and here you are,” Jay said.

      “Perfect for The Arbors, anyway,” she said quickly. “I can’t imagine any place lovelier. The drive from the gate was breathtaking.”

      “You should see the arbors in spring bloom,” Walter said.

      “She will,” Jay said. “But not until spring. Now let’s get you settled before the parade begins. Everyone wants to meet you. I’ll take you to your new office so you can settle in before I give you the dime tour.”

      The dime tour? How charming. With a polite hand on her elbow, Jay whisked her from the lobby and down a corridor of administrative offices.

      “Welcome to The Arbors, Ms. Adams,” Walter said about halfway down the hall. “Say the word when you’re ready to tour the financial offices. We run a tight ship. You’ll be pleased.”

      “I’m sure I will, Walter. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

      “The same.” If Walter had been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it. He was such a dashing gentleman.

      “I understand Walter’s been an employee