“Why not talk your dad into small acquisitions like the inn. Renovate. Take your time with them. Enjoy them.”
“He doesn’t want to be in the renovation business. But doesn’t mean I can’t take the risk. I have some latitude with Akron, believe it or not.” She walked with him toward the inn’s setup, and he could almost feel her warmth. “Akron started with the nickel and dime properties. When Dad got into high-end acquisitions, he quit with the smaller projects. He’s brilliant at reading the market, knowing when to adjust. Akron has survived deflation, inflation, market fluxes. While other businesses went under, we stayed on top.”
“You sound proud.” Ben stopped by Myrtle May and Walt, who seemed deep in quiet conversation. He’d love to know what that was about. “We’re heading home. Do y’all need any help?”
Myrtle May waved him off. “Naw, we’re good. See you kids in the morning. Are you staying, Cami?”
“No, I need to get back. The Realtor is showing my loft.”
Cami’s confession struck him with a bit of reality. Don’t get caught up in the romance of fireworks and three-legged races. She was moving to Indianapolis. He was due Down Under as soon as possible.
Walking beside him toward the truck, she stumbled over something, a clump of dirt maybe, and Ben grabbed her hand.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
But he didn’t let go. Her hand felt good in his. She fit as they walked around parked cars and through the shadows of the day.
“Earlier you said I must be proud of my dad, and I am, Ben,” she said softly. “He can be hard-nosed. I know Hearts Bend folks don’t care much for him, but he’s fair and honest.”
Ben stopped at the inn’s truck and lowered the tailgate, sliding the chairs into the bed.
“You said he’s good at reading the market, but is he good at reading you?”
“Whoa, ladies and gentlemen, Ben Carter saw an opportunity and took a shot.” Cami laughed softly and bumped his shoulder.
“You don’t have to answer.”
But he wanted her to answer, to open her heart a bit. Something about the dark made it easy to be vulnerable.
“It’s complicated between us, Ben. He loves me. I don’t doubt that at all. He’s setting me up for a long and prosperous career. He’s made me work for it. Doesn’t show me favoritism in the workplace, yet he does send me information from his personal emails, details about a transaction and articles on the market, things he doesn’t send to the rest of the team. I’ve been invited to lunches and dinners with investors, bankers, politicians. He’s teaching me to be like him.”
“But are you? Like him?”
“I am now. I used to be more like Mom, loving art, painting, staring at a sunset for hours and doing nothing. But when she left—” Left seemed so much softer than died.
“He’s built a bridge to you, Cami. Through the business. He’s loving you in his own way.”
“Is he?” Her eyes were beacons in the darkness when she looked at him. “I appreciate your insight. I know I should be grateful. But I still miss my mom. A lot.”
“My parents are alive, and I miss them. I get busy and forget to call. Months go by. When I do call, it’s hard to hear because their cell service is spotty.”
“Do yourself a favor when you’re in Sydney. Call them.”
“I will.” Something in her admonition stirred him. He had a choice to make. “You know, Dad left the inn to be a missionary. He always told me, ‘Do what you’re called to do.’”
“I’m moving to Indianapolis because my dad, my boss, told me to go. Am I called?” Cami’s voice was low, tender. “Who knows? By the way, who does this mysterious calling? The universe? Fate? Life? Our own inner voice? God, if He actually cares?”
“Ah, she’ll take Life’s Hard Questions for a thousand, Alex.”
Cami laughed. “I guess it is sort of late to be so philosophical.”
And then he knew. If he was going to sell the inn, it needed to remain. To be a vital part of Hearts Bend business. He needed, wanted it to be loved. Cami loved it, like he did. The decision was clear. Easy to make.
“I’ll take your offer, Cami.”
She was silent a beat. She stopped and looked up at him. “The offer for the inn? You’ll sell to me?”
