The food looked good and smelled even better. “I—I didn’t order room service.”
“It’s part of your package—breakfast in bed. Shall I bring it in and set it up for you?”
“Oh. I can take it from here. But thank you. It smells delicious.”
The girl handed over the wooden tray, which was heavier than it looked. Two glasses of orange juice, covered in plastic wrap, threatened to slosh over the sides. Four golden muffins were nestled in a basket, and two bowls of granola and yogurt sat in the center, topped with fat blueberries.
Breakfast for two. Of course. What other little romantic surprises awaited her?
“You can just set the tray outside your room when you’re finished. Or leave it and we’ll remove it later when we clean your room.”
“All right, thank you.” Mia gave the girl a smile and closed the door, sighing deeply. Maybe this trip had been a terrible idea after all.
***
Levi perched on the stool behind the front desk. Usually mornings were busy, full of checkouts, assisting guests with their luggage, and providing directions to their next destinations. Sometimes he assisted them with boarding passes or made recommendations for airport accommodations. The personal service was all part of staying at an inn.
But since they had only one guest, the inn was silent this morning. Even the phone had been quiet.
He awakened the computer and checked his email. His personal credit card statement had arrived, but he didn’t want to see the balance. The inn had run in the red all winter, and the business credit card had already been maxed out. He’d paid it down with the honeymooners’ payment so the girls wouldn’t know just how tight things were.
They didn’t know his personal credit cards were maxed out too. It just about killed him to make only the minimum payment each month. He’d always been a cash-up-front kind of guy. But he’d be able to pay off his debt once the season got rolling. At least that’s what he begged God for on a daily basis.
He saw an email from his former boss back in Denver. Curious, he opened the message.
Hello Levi,
I hope it’s all right that I attained your current email address from Vince Gunnerson. You may have heard through him that Farber Construction’s business has boomed since you left. While growth is a positive factor, as you know, it also requires an expansion of staffing.
Your departure, while completely understandable, left a great deficit in the area of project management. We’ve never fully recovered from the loss in that area and are suffering even more now that the business is expanding.
I’m not sure how things are going for your family business. Hopefully they’ve settled in the year and a half since you’ve been gone. But as I told you when you left, you will always have a position at FC.
In fact, in light of our very busy upcoming season, the board has asked me to approach you. I think you’ll find the offer attached very generous.
I hope you’ll consider coming back to FC, Levi. There is abundant opportunity for career advancement.
Sincerely,
Thomas Wellborn
Levi couldn’t stop himself from clicking on the attachment even though dread was already coursing through his veins. He scanned the document, swallowing hard at the bottom line. They were offering not only a promotion but a healthy increase in his previous salary.
He stared at the figure, his stomach in knots. He couldn’t accept it, no matter how tempting it was.
Ultimately, he needed to see his sisters settled—Molly living out her dream in Italy, Grace in college without a boatload of debt hanging over her head. And none of that could happen until they sold the inn.
But the inn was far from solvent. While they’d done all right last summer, the winter had been even slower than he’d anticipated. He soft-pedaled it to the girls in their monthly meetings, fudging numbers and focusing on the marketing plans he had for the upcoming lake season.
And yes, he hoped and prayed that marketing would translate to dollars. Especially since the charges for it had gone straight to his credit card. But mostly because he had to make this inn work. He couldn’t stand the thought of failing his parents—it was eating away at his insides.
He rubbed the back of his neck where tension had gathered. The base of his skull beat with a headache. His eyes swept over the email again. Man, he missed his life in Denver. He missed his freedom, his excellent salary, and having a job he was good at. It won’t be much longer, he promised himself.
The phone rang, jarring him from his thoughts. He took the call and was encouraged. The man was looking to book a family reunion in October, which was off-season. It would be a nice influx of revenue. Unfortunately, he discovered as the man continued, the inn didn’t have the space the large group required.
A while later he heard Grace coming down the steps. He closed out the offer and his email program.
Grace rounded the corner, widened her eyes at him, and jerked her head toward the living room.
