“So what’s going on? I overheard you tell Joanna that someone was messing with your hotel.”
I closed my eyes and sighed softly. I didn’t want to talk about it, but it weighed on me, and I knew it would affect our evening if I didn’t get it out.
“I should give you some background before I tell you about today.” I paused when the server brought our drinks and took our dinner orders. I touched my Coke to his club soda and lime. “Cheers.”
Jeremy touched his glass to mine and took a sip. He then set down his drink and looked at me expectantly.
“So,” I began, “I told you that Mr. Whitaker left me the hotel.”
Jeremy nodded.
“Well, Moonlight was just a fraction of his total worth—a tiny fraction. The rest of his estate was left to his grandson, Brian. At the time, it was worth about two hundred million dollars.”
Jeremy choked on his club soda. “Two hundred million? What kind of business was he in?”
I shrugged. “A lot of real estate investment, I think. We never talked about his other businesses.” I smirked at Jeremy’s wide-eyed expression. “Anyway, despite being given all that money, Brian was pissed that Mr. Whitaker left the hotel to me because he wanted to sell it to developers. He and his mother tried to fight it in court, but the will held, and the hotel, along with five million dollars held in the trust to run the hotel, was mine and Liam’s.”
A slight frown creased Jeremy’s brow. “How does this…? Wait, do you think Brian Whitaker is messing with your hotel?”
I felt a surge of gratitude at the look of outrage on his face. “I don’t have any proof, but yeah.”
“What’s been happening?”
This time I was struck by Jeremy’s serious expression. He wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. It was like he was already planning how he could help me.
“Remember the emergency after lunch?” He nodded. “Caitlin found a bunch of bogus one-star reviews on TripAdvisor.”
“How do you know they were bogus?”
“The dates didn’t match up with anything they said, and the complaints made no sense.”
Jeremy nodded. “Okay. And then what?”
I felt my whole body tense when I thought about what Caitlin had discovered this afternoon. “Reservations got canceled for no apparent reason. Then other people—longtime customers, called to cancel because of the gay wedding we’re having in June.”
His eyes went wide and he reeled back a little. “What the hell? How would they even know about that? Evan has done everything to keep it out of the news because neither of them wants a big scene.”
I shook my head. “I think someone hacked our computers. Joanna told me someone called her on her personal cell, offering her fifty grand to quit working for me.”
Jeremy’s nostrils flared. He looked upset, and I couldn’t blame him. His personal information was also on those computers. He pulled out his cell phone. “Do you mind if I call someone? He might be able to help.”
“Sure,” I replied. “I’ll take all the help I can get.”
He hit the call button, and a couple of seconds later, I heard him talking to someone named Tony, telling him about my problem. Finally, he handed the phone to me. “Tony wants to ask you some questions.”
I took the phone. “Hey, Tony.”
“Hey there, Mr. O’Neil,” he said heartily. “I hear you’re taking good care of my friend.”
I smiled. “It’s my pleasure, believe me. And please, call me Sean.”
“All right, Sean,” he said, “I’ve got a couple questions for you.”
“Shoot.”
“When did you first notice the problem?”
“My general manager saw the bogus TripAdvisor reviews this morning, and the calls about the reservations started coming in around two in the afternoon. Then my chef told me someone called her on her personal cell and offered her fifty grand to quit working for me.”
