He thought of the money he still had invested. Money that had dropped to half of its former value in the past six months. Did he dare pull it now and put it into a business that couldn’t seem to hold its own? Would he be smart to cut his losses, sell his share of the inn to Jack, wait for his investments to improve and purchase a more successful business?
The thoughts spun around in the silence that followed his overly confident declaration to Jack.
Jack said nothing for a long while, as if he too, sensed that Garret was overcompensating. Then he looked up at Garret. “You haven’t been taking much of a wage from the inn.”
Garret heard the unspoken reproach in Jack’s voice and he felt his back stiffen. Here we go again, he thought. Still not able to support his daughter. “I pull enough to live on. The same amount Larissa does.” Which was his way of saying that what he lived on, Larissa could, too.
Jack shook his head slowly, back and forth, then sighed. “Larissa has money coming in from a trust fund established by her grandparents. Paula’s parents. She’s had that since she first took over the inn. That’s the only way she’s been able to work there and live off what she’s pulling out of the inn in wages.”
Garret looked at Jack, his words slowly sinking in. “Larissa never told me about this.”
“And why would she? She probably didn’t want you to know.”
Garret felt his own hopes sink. How could he have been so foolish? Larissa wasn’t living comfortably on her wages from the inn. Of course she wasn’t. She was used to a better life.
“So, what’s your answer?” Jack asked.
Garret shook his head. “I need time to think about this.” He had to get his head around what Jack had just told him.
Had to figure out which was the practical solution and which was him trying to live out some foolish dream of running the inn with Larissa and making a living doing it.
“Baxter said he would give me an exclusive deal but only for the next four days,” Jack continued. “I need to have an answer before Monday.”
Four days? How could he figure out what he needed to do in such a short time frame?
But he had no choice. He had to make a decision. He just wished he had more time to do it.
* * *
Larissa hung up the phone and checked off another tedious task from her to-do list. She had ensconced herself in the office, dealing with some final reckonings on the bills from the scrapbooking conference that was winding down today.
The door of the office opened and she glanced up. Garret. Her heart did that funny little jump it always did when she saw him.
He closed the door then leaned back, his head dropping against the door, seemingly unaware she was there. He stayed that way a moment, before pushing away. He pulled back, as if startled, his frown deepening when he saw her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, concerned at the bleak look on his face.
“I thought you were upstairs,” was all he said.
“I had some work to do on the computer.”
“Have we heard anything back from Albert Grimmon?”
“We’re supposed to meet with him Wednesday.”
“Almost a week from now.”
“He’s gone until Tuesday so that’s why.”
His only response to this was a curt nod.
She felt a sliver of dread at his aloof attitude. This morning, before he left for his meeting with her father, he had given her a smile and a kiss and the promise of a date tonight.
“How was your meeting with my dad?”
Garret walked over to the chair across the desk and dropped into it, looking past her through the window. “This is a good place,” he said, his tone suddenly quiet, ignoring her question. “I’ve lived everywhere, but since I left the ranch, this is the first place that feels like a home.”
“It’s always been my second home,” she said quietly. “And I’m so thankful that you love it too. That means so much to me.”
The melancholy smile that had pulled at Garret’s mouth disappeared and as he turned to her, his eyes turned a glacial gray, his frown reappearing.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Garret pulled his hand over his face again and sat back in his chair. “Nothing. It’s just—” He blew out a sigh. “The cash flow thing is frustrating.”
Larissa relaxed back against her chair relief sluicing through her. So that was what bothered him. “Once we talk to Albert we’ll get a better idea of what’s happening,” she assured him. “I know we can make this inn profitable. It was once before, I don’t know why it can’t be again.”
“That’s the trouble, isn’t it? We don’t know why.”
Larissa felt the chill again, but dismissed it. Garret was simply expressing frustration she’d been feeling, too.
“What are you working on?” he asked.
Thankful for the diversion she glanced back at the computer screen. “I’m just going over some of the bills and receipts from the scrapbooking conference. Orest usually pays all the bills and takes care of invoicing, but I thought I should start finding out for myself how things work.” She shrugged. “I’m sort of stumbling along here but from what I can see, we should have made a profit from this conference.”
“That’s what we said about Pete’s conference,” Garret ground out. “But that didn’t happen either, according to Orest. I’m not sure we can trust—” Garret stopped, pushing himself to his feet and walking to the window behind Larissa’s desk.
“You’re not sure we can trust him?” Larissa finished Garret’s comment, feeling a twist of disloyalty. “Is that why you wanted the external audit?”
Garret nodded slowly, his back to Larissa, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his suit pants, his coat straining at his broad shoulders. From behind, his hair curled over the collar of his jacket, a dark contrast to the gray of his suit. He rearranged the waves with a quick shove of his hand, then spun around.
“What would you do if you didn’t have the inn?”
Larissa swallowed down her trepidation at his question. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m just curious. You’re so tied up in this place, sometimes it feels like I don’t know where the inn quits and you begin.” He added a smile but it did nothing for Larissa’s equilibrium.
“I feel like this place is a part of me,” she said quietly. “I think I would lose my identity if I had to leave this place.”
“Do you think that’s a good thing? To have your identity so tied up in a place?”
Larissa felt her back stiffen, surprised at Garret’s questions. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I think we all need to know who we are and what’s important to us. I think we all need a sense of place. To feel connected. The inn is my home.”
“Not the house you were raised in?” Garret’s quirk of his eyebrow told her how silly that might have sounded.
She shook her head. “No. Not the house. That was just a place to sleep. This was where I spent the most time with my mother.”
“So is this a business for you, or a way to keep your mother’s memory alive?”
Larissa fought down a flicker of disquiet at Garret’s almost harsh tone as his questions mirrored her own uncertainties. Was she just holding on to the inn to keep her mother’s memory alive as Garret said?
She was afraid to ask because to do so felt as if she was being a traitor to her mother’s legacy. Before her mother died, she had asked Larissa to take care of the inn. To make sure it kept going. And she had.
But before she could formulate a response to his rapid-fire questions, Garret made a left to right swipe with his hands as if erasing what he just said. “Sorry. That’s an unfair question.” He shoved his hand through his hair again and released a long, heavy sigh.
Larissa weighed her thoughts, measured her memories as she struggled to find the right way to say what she needed to say. To not let Garret’s questions resurrect the fear that spiraled through her.
&n
bsp; “When my mother was dying she asked me to take care of the inn. That’s one of the reasons I want to keep this inn going. The other is that it’s truly a part of me.”
Garret nodded and took a step closer to her. “But when you have to make a business decision, what criteria do you use? Your need to keep your mother’s legacy alive, or the reality of where the inn is going?”
“It’s doing okay. It has to get better and it will but for now, we’re getting by.”
Garret released a cynical laugh. “I don’t want to just ‘get by’,” he said. “I’ve done that enough in my life.”
His words made her uncomfortable. She knew that money was important to Garret. Even though he said he didn’t take ten thousand dollars from her father, he left because of money and his concern that he couldn’t give her enough of it. “Money isn’t everything.”
“No. It isn’t. But try to keep your car on the road without it. Try to put food on the table without it. Try to provide for a family without it.” He stopped there, his hands clenched at his side. He released his fists slowly and flexed his fingers.
She heard the rising anger in his voice and it made her pull back. “I know you’ve had your hardships, Garret. But I also know that this inn isn’t just a business to you, either. I’ve heard how you talk about this place. It means something to you too.” She stopped there, not sure she could keep the fear out of her voice. Or the pleading.
Garret blew out a sigh, then walked over to her. “I’m sorry, Larissa.” He laid his hand on her shoulder, his fingers lightly caressing her neck. “I don’t want us to fight about this.”
“I don’t either.”
He gave her a cautious smile and cupped her chin in his hand, looking into her eyes his own intent, direct, like a laser. “I’ve got to go away for a while.”
She felt a sense of foreboding as he spoke, wondering what happened to the date they were supposed to have tonight. What had come up that he had to cancel?
But pride kept her question unvoiced. Instead, she only nodded. “Sure. When will you be back?”
“I’ll stay in touch.”
Again, all she could do was nod at his vague comment. He gave her a quick kiss, which seemed to be more afterthought than a caress. Then he straightened and walked away.
Larissa watched him leave, watched as he walked toward the parking lot. Watched as he started his car and drove away without a second glance backward.
Through the open window Larissa heard the burbling of the creek counterpointed by a robin’s cheerful song. She leaned her chin on her cupped hand, waiting for the peace that usually came over her when looking outside.
She thought of all the years she had spent here. Of the changing of the seasons and the plans she had spun and woven around the inn.
She had always imagined that when she got married, it would be here at the inn. She would have a gazebo set up in the large open area just below the patio. She would come in over the bridge, her long white dress trailing behind her. No veil, just a small spray of flowers on one side of her head. Purple orchids and white roses.
She and Alanna had spent hours planning their weddings. The styles of the dress and the colors of the flowers always changed but one thing was constant.
The inn.
At one time she had a clear picture of who would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Then, when Garret left, the man was just a blur in a tuxedo.
But lately...lately she dared give the man a face again. A name. Did she still dare?
On the heels of that question, more came tumbling to the fore.
Why was he asking the questions he had about the inn? What was he planning? Why didn’t he tell her where he was going and what he was doing?
And, even worse, would he come back?
Fifteen
Larissa kept herself busy in the office for the rest of the afternoon. Each time she heard the front door of the inn open, her heart plunged in her chest.
Then the inn door opened again and this time, a few seconds later, her office door creaked open and her father stepped into the room.
He gave her a somber look then closed the door behind him. “Do you have a few moments? I’ve something I need to tell you.”
Larissa’s smile froze at the disquiet in his voice. First Garret, now her father? What was going on?
“Sure,” she said, shaking off the sense of foreboding. “What do you need to say?”
He didn’t reply right away. Instead he stood by the door, looking around the room, a wistful smile tugging at his mouth.
“You and your mother spent a lot of time in this place,” he said quietly. “I remember how you used to play here while she was working.”
Larissa nodded, remembering how she used to set her dolls up on the floor by the desk while her mother would pay bills and did all the bookkeeping.
Sometimes Larissa would sit on her mother’s lap, and play with the pens and pencils sitting in a cup on the desk. When she grew older, she would do her homework in here. When Larissa started high school, Orest took over the bookkeeping. Then Larissa would help her mother with the housekeeping, supervising the work in the kitchen. Consult with Emily. Help with the ordering.
A wistful smile pulled at Larissa’s mouth.
“You know, some of my best memories of Mom weren’t at home. They were here. In this inn,” Larissa said.
“Your mother’s whole life was wrapped up in this inn,” her father said. “Many memories, that’s for sure.”
The pensive note in his voice and his mournful smile gave her heart a nervous flutter. He was talking about the inn as if it was something in the past. Or something that would soon be in the past.
“Why did you want to talk to me?” she asked, threading her now-chilly fingers together, her smile suddenly forced.
“Did Garret come by after our meeting this morning?”
Larissa nodded, her fingers tightening. The ring her mother had given her dug into her skin.
“Did he tell you what we talked about?”
“We didn’t talk about your meeting.” Which was true. But she wasn’t going to mention what Garret had said to her, waiting to hear what her father would say.
“I wanted to come sooner to talk to you about it, but I had other business to take care of at the mill.” He released a heavy sigh. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but Garret and I talked about selling the inn.”
For a moment all she could do was stare at her father, his words falling like shards of glass from a broken window. She didn’t want to pick them up. To arrange them into something that made sense.
We talked...selling the inn...
Right behind that came an echo of Garret’s question.
What would you do if you didn’t have the inn?
“What did you and Garret decide?” she asked, disappointed to hear how reedy and weak her voice sounded.
Jack eased out a sigh. “Larissa, you have to be realistic. The inn isn’t doing as well as it used to.”
“But we just had two successful conferences and the bookings are up. We’ve got to be making some headway.”
Her dad walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. His reassuring move was an echo of what had happened another time. When Garret had left before.
She shook the déjà vu off. She was just being silly. Garret hadn’t left. He was just...just...
Her mind ticked back to Garret’s preoccupation today. She thought it was because of the finances of the inn. But now?
“I know it’s not what you want to hear but you know what Orest has been telling us. This isn’t working, honey. It’s time to let go.”
The sorrow on her father’s face and threaded through his voice battered at all her insecurities. She didn’t want to believe that Garret would simply turn his back on what they had worked so hard to build.
But she couldn’t dismiss what her father told her either. And on the heels of that came a memory of when Garret first arrived. How he h
ad talked about the inn’s potential. Like it was just another asset. However, she also knew that the inn was not his first choice. That the mill was the prize he’d been gunning for.
Was that what was behind all the questions and now what her father told her? Was the inn simply a jumping point for Garret? Was it always about the mill?
She shook her head to dislodge the renegade thoughts. She couldn’t think here. Couldn’t think at all. Too many emotions too many memories.
“I don’t think I can be here,” she said, her voice breaking.
Her father nodded. “You’ve been working so hard the past couple of months. Sheila can watch the inn for you. You should take a break. Why don’t you just take a couple of days off? I’ll let you know what happens.”
Maybe she should. Maybe she should get away. Get some perspective. Give herself some room.
So she simply nodded, then gave him a quick kiss and left. No reason to stay here. Garret and her father together owned the majority share of the inn anyway. They didn’t need her to make a decision.
She wasn’t necessary at all.
When she got home she made a few phone calls, quickly packed her bags and left.
Two hours later she was pulling up to the parking lot of Lydia Porter’s bed-and-breakfast. Lydia had been a close friend of her mother’s.
She reached for her purse to call her father to tell her where she was and realized that in her rush to leave, she had forgotten her phone back in her office.
No matter. She didn’t need to talk to anyone. Didn’t need to find out what Garret and her father were planning. She would know soon enough.
She pulled her suitcase out of the car and walked up to the door, her heart sinking in her chest, memories of her mother’s friendship with Lydia surfacing. The two of them would travel together and twice a year went down to Mexico for what her mother called her ‘spa getaway’.
Coming Home: Family Bonds Four Page 16
