“Is that guy okay?” Jules asked. He seemed okay, but the cough had her worried that he was choking.
Nick turned back to her, taking her arm and steering her a few steps away from the man. “He’s fine. That’s my grandfather.”
Jules looked over to find the man was staring at her. Hadn’t Rose called the man a curmudgeon? “Are you guys close?”
“Yeah.” Nick’s expression softened. “He practically raised me.”
“Does he not like me?” Jules asked.
Nick turned back to look at the old man. “No, he’s just grumpy. Don’t mind him.”
The look on Nick’s face made Jules feel sympathetic toward him. He clearly cared for the old curmudgeon, and it reminded Jules of her bond with Gram.
But as they made small talk, Jules got a sinking feeling. Why hadn’t Nick mentioned anything about the loan? “We have a call into the lawyer about what we should do for a business structure. How is the loan progressing?”
* * *
Nick glanced backat his grandfather. When had he become such a grump? It had happened gradually, but the Gramps that Nick remembered was always smiling and fun in his childhood. Of course, after his grandmother died, he’d become more somber, but still, instead of growing happier as his grief waned, he’d become more and more grumpy.
Nick turned his attention back to Jules, who was looking up at him, her brown eyes quizzical. Right, she’d asked about the loan, and what was he going to say?
His brain whirred with possibilities. The truth was, he was working an angle with the main bank. Gramps didn’t know about it, and he was going to be upset, but Nick knew it was the right thing to do. Gramps’s refusal to grant a loan for the Beachcomber Motel was based on emotion, not numbers, and Nick knew he had to try to get that loan, even if it would cause an argument between him and his grandfather.
He glanced up to see Belinda Simms from the town hall leaving, and an idea struck. Before he could think better of it, he blurted, “It’s going along fine, but you need to get an occupancy permit for the motel before we can go any further.”
Jules’s brow creased. “A permit? I’ve never heard of that as criteria for a loan.”
“We need to make sure that it can be occupied so you can get guests and start an income to pay back the loan.” Nick’s cheeks burned. He wasn’t a very good liar, and now that he thought about it, that was one of the dumbest things he’d ever said. What had he been thinking?
“Oh, okay. I guess I can do that. I think I met the town hall lady here.”
“She just left.” Nick’s gut churned. What was going to happen when Jules went to the town hall? They would need a permit for the motel eventually. He could talk to Ryan and tell him the bank wanted a pre-inspection or something. Maybe that would just be a way for them to get an occupancy permit sooner. Maybe he’d just helped her out?
“Okay. I guess I’ll go down there first thing tomorrow, then,” Jules said, her voice optimistic.
“Yeah. Good idea.”
“So everything is going okay, then?”
“Yep. Going along good.” Nick searched for something to change the conversation with. “I uhh… I’m working on those business accounts for you.”
“Okay, great,” Jules said. They stared at each other for a few awkward beats, then she added, “So I guess I’ll see you around then.”
Jules started to back away, and Nick almost reached out to grab her arm so she would stay, but his brain wasn’t working right. All he could really think about was rushing back to the bank and making sure he could get that loan to go through before Jules discovered that he’d just told her a whopper of a lie.
* * *
Henry forkedup another piece of cake. The cake part was delicious, but the frosting was too sweet. Pearl had always put too much sugar in her frosting when they were younger, and it looked like things hadn’t changed much. He glanced over at his grandson and the Whittier girl, a faint longing tugging at his heart. She looked just like her grandmother. The same chocolate curls, the same brown eyes. And he remembered looking into those eyes, which had seemed so sincere… until she left town without a word.
His heart hardened as he watched the two talk. Nick had that goofy look on his face, and Henry resisted the urge to warn him. There was nothing Henry could do about it. He knew he would have to let it play its course.
After his wife died, he never thought he would feel that way about anyone again. But then his friendship with Rena had turned into something more. At least he’d thought it had, and he was sure she felt the same way too. But apparently not, judging by her actions.
Too bad Nick had taken the girl out of earshot when she’d asked about the loan. Was Nick still trying to give the Beachcomber a loan? If so, part of him was angry about Nick going against his wishes, but the other part glowed with pride. Nick going against him and standing up for something was what he’d wished for his grandson for a long time. He just wished it wasn’t on this particular subject.
He felt guilty about shutting Nick down over the loan, but he’d been angry. The way Rena had left town with no explanation had given him a bad taste in his mouth about women in general, and Whittiers in particular. Besides, it was probably a bad investment. Although, from what he’d heard at the town meeting tonight, maybe there was hope for the town and the Beachcomber Motel after all. But deep down, he knew you couldn’t trust women.
He bet his grandson hadn’t told Jules that the bank wouldn’t approve the loan. She wouldn’t be smiling up at him like that if he had.
