“The devil of the West Coast strikes again.”
Outside the oversized steel windows, the sun is setting. The lobby buzzes with people heading back from meetings or out for dinner.
I weave around the large, low-slung leather chairs.
After a childhood of navigating the unhinged whims of my megalomaniac father, I relish moments like these, when everything is going according to plan and I am completely in control.
Well, except for Mandy.
Andthat. Crawford gives me a lazy salute from across the room.
A scowl settles on my face. “What’s he doing here?”
“Trying to increase my security for better insurance rates.” Fitz grins. “Surprise! It was Aaron’s suggestion. He thinks it will help the merger go more smoothly.”
My gait skips. “What merger? I am the largest investor in Cascade Hotel Group. You cannot perform a merger without my sign-off.”
Fitz pats my arm. “It’s dumb to have two different hotel groups in the same family. We’re in early negotiations with Grayson Hotel Group.”
“You can’t be serious. You want to merge your company with our brothers’?”
“Just putting out feelers.” Fitz rocks back on his heels. “Diversifying is a good thing.”
Aaron Richmond offers his hand. “Nice to see someone else on the receiving end of an unasked-for family reunion.”
“Thanks for coming into town.” I shake his hand.
“I needed a break from New York.”
“Or a break from your brother?” I glare at Crawford. “Unfortunately, I can’t seem to escape mine.”
“I’m not going to be able to escape mine, either,” Aaron says. “He wants in on the port contract. Thinks he can hook up tidal-energy generation to it.”
“See?” Fitz slaps me on the back. “Aaron’s changing with the times.”
Aaron scowls.
“You don’t even have to run the numbers to know that it would be better for the port deal if Richmond Electric was involved,” Crawford interjects.
Aaron’s scowl deepens.
“This better not be a surprise port-contract meeting. You know I don’t appreciate surprise agenda items.”
“No,” I assure him, “just the Harborview Heights development.”
“Liar.” Aaron inclines his head.
Coming out of the elevators is Benji Isaacs—on his arm is a pretty young woman I don’t recognize. He notices me staring and an oh-shit expression forms on his face. He pats the hand of the young woman with him then hurries through the crowd over to me.
“Salinger, didn’t expect to see you here.” He pumps my hand.
“Family in town?” I ask casually.
“Er, not exactly.” He draws me closer. “Claire’s got quite the social media following—TikTok, Instagram, that sort of thing. Always posting. She could make things”—he looks around nervously—“difficult for me if this gets out.” He shoots a guilty glance at the bored-looking young woman. “You understand?”
“I see.”
“You know, Mr. Isaacs,” Fitz says smoothly, “the hotel does have a rear entry whose use can be arranged for guests who require more security.”
