PROLOGUE
JEREMY
The snow was falling so thickly onto the windshield of Pierce’s Range Rover that the wipers could barely keep up. I felt the SUV slide on the icy winding road and grabbed the oh-shit bar above the passenger door. “Pierce, slow down, damn it!”
Pierce shot me a glare from the driver’s seat. “Stop being such a whiny bitch, Jeremy. We’re running late because of this stupid snow. You know how important this event is for me.”
“We’re going to be even later if we get wrapped around a tree,” I said.
“I have one of the best four-wheel drive vehicles on the market,” my boyfriend retorted. “It’s meant for weather like this.”
I tried for a logical approach. “Pierce, the four-wheel drive does not allow you to defy the laws of physics. Ice is still slippery, and no amount of torque will change that.”
Pierce’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Are you trying to make me late? Are you trying to back out of this?”
I stared at him aghast. “In what universe does me asking you to drive safely equate to me backing out of playing your event?”
Pierce never got to answer my question. I felt the car slide and saw his eyes go wide with panic. Pain exploded along the right side of my body. The acrid smell of airbag chemicals filled my nostrils, and I couldn’t catch my breath. The world faded as darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. My last thought before everything went black was,Great, I’m going to die in New Jersey.
PROLOGUE
SEAN
“What?” I glanced over at my brother, Liam, whose eyes were wide with shock. “You’re kidding, right?”
Mr. Whitaker’s lawyer, Kyle Landry, smiled at me. “I am completely serious, Mr. O’Neil.”
“That’s impossible!” Mr. Whitaker’s grandson, Brian, shouted. “Grandfather was supposed to leave the inn to me!”
Brian’s mother, Alison, pierced me with an icy glare. “Of course it’s a mistake.” Her lip curled up in a sneer. “Clearly, the O’Neil brothers exerted undue influence over my feeble-minded father-in-law.”
“Ah, yes,” the attorney said sadly. “He suspected you would say something like that.” He opened his laptop and tapped a few keys, then turned it so the screen faced the four people who had come to hear the last will and testament of Samuel Whitaker, Sr.
Mr. Whitaker’s son, Samuel Jr., had died three years before of a massive heart attack, or he probably would have been yelling about the inn too.
Mr. Landry came to the front of his desk and opened a video window on the laptop. The wizened face of Mr. Whitaker appeared, frozen in time. He was seated in his worn leather chair in his office at the hotel. I felt my chest tighten and tears prick my eyes. I really missed the old guy. The lawyer pressed the play button, and Mr. Whitaker began to speak.
“I figured I would have to do this, as much as I hate these damned video cameras.” He shifted impatiently in his seat. “This is for you, Brian and Alison.” The two people in question made small sounds of outrage. The video played on, heedless of their upset.“My choice to leave Moonlight Inn to Sean and Liam was not unduly influenced by either of them. In fact, neither of them knows anything about it. My reasons are many, but the main ones are these—Sean and Liam love Moonlight. They have spent the last eight years helping me run the inn, making improvements with their own hands, and dragging me kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century.”
I chuckled, and Liam snorted. It had taken us two years to convince Mr. Whitaker to get a website and allow people to make reservations online. He was pleasantly surprised when business picked up and reservations ran more smoothly. I turned my attention back to the video.
“The other reason is I know that you, Brian, intended to sell Moonlight to developers so they could build hideous luxury condos. You have no appreciation for the gift of this beautiful old building and the history it carries within its walls. All you and your mother care about is the money.”The old man sighed.“I suppose that’s on me. I wanted to give my son everything I didn’t have, but then he didn’t have to work for anything and didn’t appreciate what he was given.”He straightened in his chair.“So that’s it. You’ll get plenty of money, Brian, but the inn and the money to run it will go to Sean and Liam O’Neil.”Mr. Whitaker then recited the date and time of his video, and Mr. Landry appeared on the screen at the end to attest to the old man’s competence.
Both Brian and Alison rose. “You’ll be hearing from our lawyer,” Alison said.
“What a surprise,” Kyle muttered.
“So now what?” I asked after they were gone.
The attorney turned his laptop back around and sat behind his desk. “They don’t have a case. Sam’s will is ironclad.” His gaze traveled between my brother and me. “You boys are the new owners of Moonlight Inn.”
ONE
JEREMY
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said quietly. I looked down at my best friend Evan’s wedding program—the one with my name listed as the pianist—and felt the bile rise to my throat as the memory of my last time on stage played out in my mind’s eye. My hand began to tremble, and I quickly clenched it into a tight fist.
Evan placed his large hand over mine. “Babe, I know you’re nervous, but it’s been nearly a year. You’ve come so far since then.”
