“We just want to make sure you aren’t pursuing the management out of a sense of responsibility or expectation. You’re so smart, Jonah. So capable. There are many other things you could do if you wanted.”
“You insisted I get a degree, and come December I’ll have one. But I haven’t changed my mind about running the resort.”
“That’s not where we were going with this,” Dad said.
Jonah stuffed down a flicker of anger. “Then where were you going exactly?”
Mom shifted in her seat, then turned her big brown eyes on him. “If things don’t go the way we want with Lauren, we just don’t want you to be left with a venue you’re not interested in running.”
“And renovation debt that requires you to do so.”
“She’ll be long gone and you’ll have that reminder, that’s all. We wonder if we shouldn’t call it quits before we start investing money in this. Or at least put it off until we see if Lauren’s memory returns.”
“It’s only been three weeks.”
“We know that.”
“Regardless of if she stays or not, the venue makes financial sense. I want to do it.” He wasn’t sure if he could tease out his own desire for the venue from Lauren’s passion for the project. But he wouldn’t take away the one thing that excited her about being here. “Is it still my decision?”
Mom and Dad traded a look.
“Of course,” Mom said. “It’s your call.”
“Then we’ll move forward with the renovation.”
Chapter 17
“Hey, Jonah, come here,” one of the guests from the writers group called as he passed the pavilion on a chilly October day. “We need your opinion.”
He’d been heading home to study, but he wasn’t opposed to a little procrastination. The romance writers had remained mostly in their cabins by day, presumably working, then brainstorming—boisterously and with lots of laughter—by night.
He approached the group of seven women, ranging in age from twentysomething to midsixties. “What can I do for you ladies?”
“Help a writer out,” Donna, the oldest of the group, said. “Cara’s working on a romance featuring a rugged type of guy who’s attracted to a woman who’s a type A personality.”
“And since you’re a rugged type...,” one of the women said.
“Am I now?” he teased.
The women giggled.
“Sit down, sit down,” Donna said. “We need a little testosterone in the group.”
“We don’t bite.”
Not so sure about that.He quirked a brow at them, which only provoked more laughter. Over the past few days he’d overheard a conversation or two that would’ve made a sailor blush.
Cara, the twentysomething brunette, made room for him on the bench, so he took a seat beside her.
“She wants to know what would attract you to that type of woman.”
Cara’s cheeks bloomed with color as she gazed at him expectantly. “What about that type of woman might appeal to a man like you?”
“Type A, huh?”
“She’s very rule oriented but also a real go-getter. She’s trying to make partner in her law firm.”
“Well, they say opposites attract,” he said.
