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“Well, we’re in the process of expanding at the moment, and I think this place has amazing potential. Do you think Fred would be open to selling?”

At this, she went very still, her eyes narrowing, and I instantly knew I’d said the wrong thing. Rinnie’s pretty features hardened, her grip around the roll of bin liners tightening, causing her knuckles to whiten. “No. I don’t think my uncle would be interested in that.”

Her uncle? Ah, crap. So that explained why she’d been working here for so long. It was a family business. My brother mentioned that the owner didn’t have any children, so that meant Rinnie could be set to inherit, and here I was saying I wanted to buy the place. Fuck. “I didn’t mean to—"

“This hotel means a lot to me,” Rinnie cut me off. She looked pissed, and I realised I’d let my overzealous nature run away with me again. It was a problem. Once I got an idea, I tended to run with it before thinking of the toes I might be stepping on.

My jaw tightened as I ran a hand through my hair. Christ, what was I thinking? She’d just told me she’d been working here for half her life, and then the next thing out of my mouth was that I wanted to buy the place. I mean, the last two days I’d been fully in my head, imagining all the ways I could bring the Gothic revival style building back to its former glory. Make it a location with a real wow factor and give it a makeover that was both careful and respectful, not change what it was but merely improve on the beauty that was already here. But Rinnie didn’t know any of this. I hadn’t communicated my plans to restore the building and bring in more business. I’d merely blurted out my intentions to buy it like it was a product I could just pluck from a shelf in a department store.

“It also means a lot to the staff,” she went on, “and to our regular guests who come back time and again. The Astor Cove is one of a kind, and no entitled, rich hotelier is going to come along and buy it up, turn it into some soulless, characterless shell and ruin everything that so many people love about it. I can assure you that my uncle feels the same way, so meeting with him would be a waste of your time. Goodbye, Mr Balfe.”

With that, she shoved past me, closing the door behind her with a hard slam, and I was left standing there, feeling like I’d well and truly put my foot in my mouth. How had that conversation gone downhill so fast? Also, entitled?

Well, okay, maybe she had a point given how tactless I’d been. But I hadn’t known her uncle was the owner. It was only now with her gone that I was replaying the conversation in my head and realising just how terribly I’d come across. First, I’d asked her out while she was working. Then I’d said I wanted to buy the business that she clearly held dear and probably envisioned herself owning one day. I should’ve explained to her my vision, how I planned to improve the place, but instead, I’d said it all wrong and come across like a dickhead.

I was, of course, vaguely offended by her comment about our hotels being soulless and characterless because they weren’t, but she’d also said earlier that she hadn’t heard of them, so she’d obviously just been lashing out when she’d said that. And okay, a small part of me was strangely turned on by her passion. She clearly adored this place, and if I managed to rectify the damage I’d just done, and Fred Behan could be convinced to sell, I’d have every intention of keeping her on. The thing that made a place special was the people who loved it, and if I were going to turn this hotel into something even more magical than it already was, then I’d need the help of people like Rinnie.

She might’ve had dreams to inherit and run the hotel herself, but she had no idea of the work, not to mention money, that would require. People bankrupted themselves everyday trying to make businesses like this one work. Whereas I had the financial cushion and the willingness to take a risk, transform the hotel and truly make it shine. If she could see what I had planned, then I imagined she wouldn’t be quite so hostile. And besides, I was a businessman first and foremost, which meant that when I saw an opportunity I had to seize it. I couldn’t be sentimental.

So yeah, she might hate my guts for a while, but she’d soon see that me buying the place was far better than inheriting a building that needed more work than she’d likely ever have the money for.

Anyway, those were concerns for another day. Today, my brother had gotten married, and I needed to go back downstairs and celebrate.

Erin

I was so mad I was shaking. The wedding reception was currently underway in the function room, so the rest of the hotel was mostly empty as I stormed towards my office. I couldn’t believe that Tristan Balfe wanted to buy the Astor Cove. He thought he could just come along and snatch it up like it didn’t mean so much to so many. It honestly boiled my blood. I’d seen enough TV shows and documentaries to know what happened when small, independent businesses got bought up by larger franchises or corporations. They got hollowed out, the thing that made them special in the first place killed in the name of modernisation and profit.

The Astor Cove was one of my great loves, strange as it was to say. But my life had been a series of upheavals and tragedies up until the point when Sloane and I had come to live with Uncle Fred when I was eighteen. That was when I’d finally had some stability and safety. The thought of ownership changing hands made my ordered, predictable world feel like it was crumbling around me.

Yes, I was being a tad melodramatic, but my life was small, and this hotel was a large part of it. Not to mention, Uncle Fred had hinted on one or two occasions that when he and Aunt Nessa passed, the building would be given to my sister and me. I mean, he’d never outright confirmed it, but it was a dream I’d held onto in the back of my mind for a long time. Not because I wanted money. It was because I wanted to keep the Astor Cove just as it was. It was my happy place, and despite its many flaws, I didn’t want it to change.

But inheritance aside, there were more immediate concerns if Fred sold the hotel. I’d probably lose my job so that some shiny young college graduate with big ideas could come in and take over. I’d have to find something else, not to mention I wouldn’t get to see any of the other staff every day, many of whom had become like family.

I flopped down into my desk chair and let out a heavy sigh, rubbing my fingers into my temples to stave off an impending headache. Times like these called for a stiff drink, but I wasn’t going to consume alcohol on the job. I needed to hold off for a few more hours. I hadn’t eaten in a while, but I had a pile of order forms to get through on my desk, so I went in search of some snacks to tide me over.

Standing, I walked outside, closing my office door behind me. When I entered the kitchen, it was a hive of activity. The wedding guests were currently being served their dinner, and there was barely an inch of space for me to scoot in and find something to eat. I turned and headed for the function room, deciding I could slip behind the bar and grab something from there.

Most of the guests were seated and eating. Our bartender and waiter, Teddy, wasn’t around, so I quickly walked behind the bar, making a beeline for the snacks.

“I’ll take a vodka, straight, if it’s not too much trouble,” a woman said, and I turned to find the blonde from earlier. Tristan’s twin sister, Nuala. I tried not to be annoyed by her appearance. She might’ve borne a striking resemblance to her brother, but she wasn’t the one trying to destroy my life.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Make it a double,” she added, and I nodded, studying her tense expression. I wondered what had her looking so stressed. Maybe she was exhausted after talking the wedding planner down off a ledge earlier.

“Stressful day?” I asked as I poured her a double vodka before sliding it across the bar.

Nuala sighed, taking a little sip and wincing at its strength. “You could say that,” she replied, eyeing me. “What about you? You’re the manager here, right? I’ll bet hosting weddings can be exhausting.”

“It can be, though I’m just back from my holidays, so at least I’m well rested. And you?” I asked, unsure why I was so curious. Maybe I just needed a distraction from the fury I currently felt towards her brother.

Nuala frowned, then turned a little in her seat before pointing at a table across the room. “You see that stunningly handsome man over there?”

I glanced over to where she was pointing and saw a tall, dark-haired guy who looked like he might be part Southeast Asian. He was indeed stunningly handsome, and a pretty woman with long black hair sat next to him. He had his arm around the back of her chair as he said something in her ear, and she giggled, batting him on the chest. I had a feeling I knew why Nuala was so down.

“I guess I can tell you this since you’re a complete stranger, and we’ll probably never see each other again.” I was about to stop her because if her brother was serious about buying the Astor Cove, that might not be true, but she was already continuing before I could interject. “His name is Theo, and he’s a good friend of my brothers. I’ve basically been in love with him since I was fourteen years old. Honestly, I had this silly dream that one day he’d confess that he felt the same way, but now he’s engaged to Amy. She’s very obviously the love of his life, and I now have to face the facts that he and I will never happen.”

“Ouch, that’s tough.” I would’ve poured her another vodka, but she was clearly a lightweight because she’d barely made a dent in the one I just gave her.