He felt for her, understanding the journey of trying to be acceptable to one’s parents. He’d been there with his own.
They polished off the fries over a rowdy discussion of college sports, mainly football, which morphed into an exchange on how to manage staff.
“Make them feel like they have something to contribute,” Ben said.
“I give rewards. You work hard for me, I’ll show my appreciation.”
Cami drained her water and shoved the glass aside. Ben did the same with his sweet tea, leaning toward her, arms on the blue-and-gold Formica table. She looked like she had something to say.
“What about my offer? Still a no-go?”
“Your mom died there, Cami. You haven’t been back in, what, fifteen years? I want to know the deep-down reason you want it.”
She sighed and looked away, then brushed a tear from under her eye. “You just said it. Because Mama died there, Ben. I guess it’s my way of memorializing her.” Her eyes brimmed when she looked at him. “I’m figuring this out as we go. Following my gut.”
Oh man, what was she doing to him? She was making him want to sell. But if he did, shouldn’t he get top dollar as a memorial of his grandparents? Shouldn’t he have a chunk of change to give Dad, Mom, and Myrtle May? He’d need top dollar, and right here, right now, he wasn’t sure nine hundred thousand was top dollar.
The inn, with some investment, could be a fantastic destination place. But he’d not had time to research the value without renovations.
His parents had given their lives to God and the mission field. Now it was up to Ben to make sure they were set for the end of their lives. He was all they had.
“We’ve said all sentiment aside, right?” he said. “If I sell, I want top dollar. This is my grandparents’ legacy, and I want to set up my parents for retirement. I need to settle the inn’s debt. Make sure MM is set. Give Walt and Ray something for their retirement. They’re like family.”
A tear drifted to the edge of Cami’s eye. She grinned as she dabbed it away. “I hear you, but I’m still a skilled Akron negotiator, Ben Carter. If you sell to me, it’ll be for bottom dollar. The place needs a lot of work. I respect what you want to do with the money, but my offer is fair. Maybe more than fair. Tell you what, I’ll cover the bank loan and still sell at nine hundred thousand.”
Now she was just showing off. “You’re making it hard to say no. But can you promise Akron won’t tear it down?”
“That’s my father’s way. Not mine.”
“So, of all the properties you’ve acquired, none of them have been bulldozed.”
Cami sat back with a hot glint in her eye. The sentiment of tears vanished. “Sometimes we sell them to other developers. Sometimes they get torn down for new projects. Ben, I promise, the inn will not be torn down.”
“Once you go to Indy, it’s perfectly plausible your dad could sell the inn out from under you. Frank Hardy probably won’t go away. Or a new developer will come in, buy it for the land and location and tear it down, put up an office building or open a sub shop.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”
“Didn’t he just send you to Indianapolis without even discussing it with you?” He was turning into the man who negotiated contracts with foreigners and navigated cultural differences. The Hearts Bend boy was now a shadow.
“Ben, if you don’t want to sell to me, don’t. You can’t keep challenging me. But let me ask you. How are you going to pay the bank?”
“There are ways. Refinance. Find investors.” Had he just made his decision?
“Okay, what about building the business? You have to grow to stay solvent. What about taxes, insurance, payroll? You’ll have to hire a manager to run things if you’re in Sydney or Hong Kong.”
She was pushing. And he didn’t like to be pushed. “If you want it so much, up your offer.”
“I just did.”
“Try again.”
Her cheeks flashed red. “And if I don’t?”
“I’ll keep it.”
“So, you’re turning my offer down?”
“Yeah, Cami, for the second time, I think I am.”
