Killing Me Softly Read Online Free PDF Page A

setting up to do. Nothing else makes sense. I try to get excited about what’s going to happen. We've never talked rings or anything, but Rob certainly has paid attention to my personal style. Like the fact that I never wear yellow gold. Or that I don't like the pointed edges of marquise-cut stones.
    Looking around, this B&B is truly amazing. Rob told me that it used to be a convent. I've parked in the back, so I'm entering through a hallway near the kitchen which is to my left. Several small, round tables are spread out, giving the kitchen a cafe atmosphere. A large stone fireplace divides the kitchen and dining room. It is one of those fabulous fireplaces that is open on both sides. Sitting in the formal dining room, you can see right through to the cafe-kitchen. I see a sign indicating that the guestrooms are in a wing to the left off the kitchen, making it necessary to pass through the kitchen on the way to the rooms. Straight ahead of me is a sunken living room that has bookshelves from floor to ceiling. My eyes travel up and up and up, as the ceilings are cathedral height with massive hanging chandeliers. This library room leads into another sunken room, which appears to be a sitting room. The walls and the floor are made of stone. At the far end of that room is the most enormous fireplace I've ever seen. Worn couches surround it, with small end tables scattered about, holding lamps that light the otherwise dark room.
    "Dear, can I help you?"
    If I didn't know better, I'd say this lady was a left-over nun. Maybe she didn't get the memo that the rest of the group moved out about thirty years ago. "Um, yeah. I'm supposed to be meeting my boyfriend here. We have reservations for the weekend."
    "Okay, come this way. You came in the back door. The check-in desk is through the library."
    I follow her, apologizing for coming in the wrong door. Walking through the place, it's even more impressive than I first thought. I wish I could curl up with a book for about a week here. It looks so peaceful and relaxing. Maybe I can convince Rob to bring me back here every year for a special treat. I know, I'm putting the cart before the horse, but I've convinced myself that we're getting engaged. I wonder if we'll be married by next Valentine's Day. At my age, I don't want to wait that much longer. Glancing around the library, I wonder if we could have our wedding here. It's not that big, but I don't want a huge shindig anyway. I'd be content with our parents and siblings, and maybe a few close friends. Of course, I'd have to invite my aunt and uncle. And if I do that, then Rob would have to invite his, and his mom is one of seven kids. Just with family, we're up to over sixty people, and that's not including any of our teacher friends. I doubt this place could hold everyone. Maybe if it were in the summer and we were outside—
    "Dear? I asked what name the reservation is under."
    "Oh, sorry," my attention snaps back to the elderly lady who obviously owns this place. "Henderson. Robin Henderson."
    She flips through her ledger and finds the information she's looking for. She opens a small cabinet on the wall and pulls out a key. There is a second key hanging on the same hook. I guess that means Rob's not here yet.
    "Here you go, Robin. Room Eleven. Through the kitchen, down the hall, up the stairs and first room on the right."
    "Oh, I'm Sadie. Robin is my boyfriend."
    "Oh, sorry about that dear."
    "No problem. It's not his fault he has an unfortunate name. Has he checked in yet?" I can't believe I said that. I don't know why I'm asking this. I know the answer.
    She looks at the ledger and then back up at me. "No, dear. You're the first one here."
    Putting on a brave smile, I take my bags and head back up to the kitchen to get to the wing of rooms. There's a heavy fire door that separates the rooms from the public part of the building. I guess that's good. There is still some privacy between the bedrooms and the common areas. I try not to