It’s a gorgeous, brisk morning in Sycamore Mountain. The air is crisp, there’s a dusting of snow on the pines, and a peace I don’t think I’ve ever truly experienced before. I used to think small towns would be too boring. Too intrusive. But everything about this place reminds me of the Hallmark Christmas movies my mother used to like to watch.
Dave’s wife runs over to greet us as we enter. Lifting his girl’s handto his lips, he gives her knuckles a tender kiss. At least I assume that’s his wife, given their current display. Suddenly, his spine stiffens. “Oh, Lord.”
“What?” I ask, feeling more alarmed than I anticipated after arriving in this serene little place.
“Hey, hot stuff. Find a table and sit your sweet ass down.” The overly made-up woman reaches over and pinches my ass before I realize what’s happening.
“Shit, man. Sorry. I had no idea she was going to be here.”
“What just happened?” This feels equivalent to going to a new friend’s home only to be greeted by their dog sniffing your ass and balls.
“That’s Char’s fairy godmother, Betty. She comes up here every once in a while to give the owner, Ellie, a break. Ellie had twins recently.”
“She’s a work in progress. I’ll talk to her.” Char giggles. “I’m just thrilled she’s here. She’ll grow on you. You’ll see.”
Dave leans in. “Like mold.”
It doesn’t take long before Betty brings a pitcher of water and starts to fill our glasses.
“What’s good here?” I ask Dave and his wife over my menu. Suddenly, I feel the heat of a thousand suns blaring into my face and look up to find Betty glaring at me. “Everything. That’s what’s good here.”
“Okay, okay. I’ve got this, Betty. Let me take their order while you go wrangle up some dessert for Earl,” the pretty redhead interrupts. I let out a relieved exhale as she walks away. “Sorry about that. She gets a little overprotective.”
“She’s scary,” I whisper. My eyes dart over to where she’s standing to make sure she’s not plotting my downfall. Instead, I find her running her long, red talons through what’s left of that older man’s comb-over with a smile on her face.
Ellie snickers. “Yeah. She’s not much of a welcome committee to Sycamore Mountain.”
“Ben, this is Ellie. She’s my best friend and owner of this fine establishment,” Char introduces with obvious pride and affection.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smirk. “I heard everything’s good here.”
Dave tosses his head back in laughter. “You’ll fit right in, Ben.”
Later,Harrison joins us. After being greeted like a local celebrity, Dave introduces us, and we get down to business. We discuss my dream of creating a legacy. Building something meaningful, something that lasts.
“I want to create a brand synonymous with luxury,” I say quietly. “Turnkey vacation villas in destinations where they merely need to arrive and enjoy one another and their natural surroundings, knowing they’re in a secure setting that guarantees their privacy.”
I lay out my plans to acquire hotels in great locations and refurbish them with all of the bells and whistles, hoping to attract the uber rich to beautiful areas for rest and relaxation where they can truly unwind.
“Hopefully, it will be a place they can enjoy a getaway with friends or a significant other. Or spend time with their families, making memories together.” A deep cord tugs at my chest, causing my hand to rub at my sternum instinctively.
My mind races back like a speed train to the few memories I still hold dear of my father when he was alive. When he and my mother would whisk me away on vacation. I know most kids would love a trip to Disney or Universal Studios, but I’d give anything to have that time back. If only I’d known how sick he was. I look up and discover all eyes are now on me. I must’ve been so lost in my memories I’d completely lost my words. So I continue, “And perhaps inject a little of their wealth into the local economy during their stay.”
I take a much-needed sip of my water. “The remodels will be significant work. In all likelihood, it would be easier to tear them down and start over than to remodel them. But knowing I’vepreserved a little of the heritage of where each resort began is important to me.”
It’s in this very moment I realize, blazing this trail anew isn’t necessarily about setting myself apart from Devon and my stepfather. Sure, that’s part of it. But maybe there’s something to be said for honoring what came before. Perhaps my father has been more ingrained in this plan than I’d appreciated.
Dave watches me thoughtfully. “You’re building something good, Ben.”
I nod, but as I take in Dave and Char, Matt and Ellie, I can’t help but imagine someone by my side. Because as much as I want this dream, my mind still drifts to Grace. And whether she ever thinks about me.
And if this aching, ridiculous hope in my chest is going to be my undoing.
22
GRACE
I curlonto my side and pull the thin hotel blanket over my head, hoping to shut out reality. Yet it doesn’t block out the neon glow bleeding in through the curtains. Las Vegas still hums outside, the energy bright, loud, alive. While I lie here shaking like the world just ended.
