14
Brook
When you told me you didn’t want to talk to me, I was devastated. All I wanted to know was what I’d done to push you away so I could fix it. You asked for time, and I gave it to you. Eventually, I stopped trying to reach out to you. After 14 years, I want you to know that I forgive you. I realize there was something going on that might not have had anything to do with me, which is why I couldn’t make it right. I’ll never forget you, but I have to release myself from the anger I’ve aimed at both of us this whole time. Love, C
I promiseI’ll be back.Dane’s parting words echoed through my mind as I tried to focus on preparing for tonight’s guests. My desire to respect his wishes warred with my need to prove he didn’t have to get through life’s struggles on his own anymore.
James’s mess was something Dane didn’t need right now. He was already stressed out about flying home to pick up his dad when he was released from prison. Although he was eager to have his family back together, I could tell he was trying to tamp down the worry that things between them would never be the same again. And he was right; both of them were different people than they’d been before his dad was arrested, tried, and convicted. Much of the man Dane had become was painted by the events of a boy who needed to know he wasn’t alone in the world. It had left him jaded, reluctant to let people close to him, incapable of trusting that those he cared about wouldn’t abandon him.
But I wasn’t abandoning him, I was doing my job. I was respecting him by staying right where I was while he tried to find a way to save the inn.
“I’m sorry, Brook.” James’s apology startled me out of my internal debate. I turned on my heel, ready to lash out because he’d potentially screwed up everything in my life with his idiocy. One look at the bags under his eyes and the hair sticking out in every direction from twisting it in his fists cut off my bitterness.
It wasn’t for the reasons you thought.
“If you want to quit, I wouldn’t blame you, but I hope you’ll hear me out first.” Funny, even though I was angry with him for managing to upend both my personal and work life without any consideration, quitting had never crossed my mind. This inn was my life, even more now that Dane was here. Walking away from my job would feel too much like walking away from him, and I wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t, no matter what happened.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, James. From the sounds of it, this is a family issue.”
“True, but it impacts you too.” James’s shoulders slumped forward as he hung his head in shame. “I was so set on keeping everything my father had worked for alive that I made some poor decisions.”
That was one way of putting it. I pursed my lips to keep from saying anything, because it was obviously important to James that he filled me in on what was going on.
The more James explained what had led to the decisions he made, the more my anger receded. Dane was right; this was nothing like I’d originally assumed was going on.
“The problem is, I made a lot of mistakes in my life, and no one would grant me a loan when the building wasn’t technically mine. My attorney advised me to wait until I tracked down Dane, see if he was on board with updating the inn, and go from there.”
“But you didn’t,” I interjected.
“No.” James slowly shook his head from side to side, letting out a deep sigh. “I resented being told I needed to wait for someone who was family only because of a genetic bond, before doing what I knew my father had dreamed about. I should have listened to him….”
“You’re a stubborn ass, James,” I lashed out. I had no clue where the balls to speak so frankly to my boss came from, but I didn’t regret it. The inn had been my first job, and I was the only employee who’d been there more than a year. I’d missed out on family holidays to help the Montgomerys, skipped my senior trip because it would have put them in a bind. I might not own the place, but that didn’t mean I felt any less strongly about its success than he did. “You were hell-bent on proving to your father that you weren’t a colossal screwup, even though he was dead. And now it sounds like you’ve managed to mess things up so royally no one may be able to save what your father built. Was it worth it?”
James was silent for nearly a minute. “I want to say no, but I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t. I don’t expect you to understand what it was like growing up withher. This was the one thing Dad had that was completely his own.”
“Then you’d better hope like hell your nephew, the same man you resented before you even knew him, can figure out a way to save your sorry ass.”
As much as I’d love to sit around making James feel even worse about his bad life decisions, there was work to be done. He and Dane needed to figure out where to come up with the money to save the inn, which left me to make sure the guests had no clue there was a storm brewing behind the scenes.
* * *
By midafternoon,there was still no sign of Dane. Between check-ins, I slid my phone onto the desk and tapped out a quick message.
Worried about you. It’s hot out there, and I doubt you grabbed water or sunblock.
I hadn’t expected a response, but the little bubble appeared at the bottom of the screen, telling me Dane was typing. Then it went away. Came back. Gone. I stared at the screen, waiting for his reply, but then the front door chimed.
“Welcome to Bird Island Inn,” I said, pretending to type something into the computer while I slipped a stack of papers over the phone.
My blood ran cold when I looked up. No way was the man standing before me a guest. He was dressed in a black button-down and slacks, mirrored glasses hanging from the pocket of his shirt. I wished he’d put them back on, because his dead eyes bored into me, causing me to shrink back.
“I’m here to speak to James Montgomery,” he said flatly, looking past me to the office door.
“I’m sorry, but he’s not in right now.” It dawned on me that this was the same man I’d seen James arguing with in the parking lot in the past. He seemed taller from a distance, but his shorter-than-expected stature didn’t make him any less intimidating. He had broad shoulders, and the threads of his shirt looked ready to burst under the strain of his bulging biceps.
“Perhaps you could check, just to be sure.”
“I suppose, but seeing as he has to walk past me when he enters or leaves his office, I can assure you, it’s empty.” Getting mouthy with the goon probably wasn’t my smartest decision of the day, but it seemed my brain-to-mouth filter had taken the day off.
