Sweet Lake (Sweet Lake #1)

by Christine Nolfi

  At last, she looked at him directly. “How did all this money arrive? Pony express?”

  “I can’t speculate. Your eccentric brother may have stashed greenbacks in his carry-on luggage.”

  “Wouldn’t a wire transfer have been easier?”

  “But not nearly dramatic enough.” Daniel chuckled. “Freddie should run the trapeze act under the big top.”

  “When he was a kid, he did talk about running away with the circus.”

  “Will you accept the money? I don’t keep a Glock in the office. We should ferry this over to the bank.”

  “Tell your client to haul the cash back to California.” She returned the packet of bank notes to the box. “I want his shares of the Wayfair instead. If he’s willing to sell, I’m sure my parents will bless the deal.”

  The announcement gave Daniel pause. “The shares aren’t for sale,” he replied, hating to disappoint her.

  “You’re not a mind reader. There’s no harm in asking.”

  “I’m way ahead of you.” Regret sifted through him. “Unfortunately.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Succumbing to the urge, he came around the desk. “I’ve already made the offer.” He declined to add he would’ve gladly paid for the shares personally. Hooking a tendril of hair behind her ear, he added, “I’m sorry, Linnie. Freddie won’t sell his stake.”

  The apology sank into the heavy silence overtaking the office. Her attention lifted past his shoulder to a point that didn’t exist. He nearly heard the gears shifting in her head, bringing her to the obvious conclusion. Air tightened his lungs when she finally spoke.

  “The money . . . is this why you agreed to handle the mysterious legal work? Freddie pays me back in trade for your help on another matter?”

  Torn between regret and relief, he nodded. Then regret took prominence as she removed his roving fingers from her hair. She clasped his hand loosely, her attention lifting to range across his face. Did she view his trade in a positive or a negative light? The signals flashing across her features came too quickly to assess with any certainty, which left him in a miserable state of confusion.

  He’d only wanted to protect her. He’d never stopped to consider if Freddie was manipulating them both.

  He said, “You’re under no obligation to use the money for upkeep or to refurbish the inn.” Tightening his grip on her cold fingers, he brought her closer. “You’ve been the general manager for seven years now. In all that time, have you paid yourself a decent wage?”

  “Paying the staff, taking care of my parents—I make less than anyone else.”

  “Which is reason enough to put a portion of the money into a private account. Or all of it. Freddie has no legal recourse to stop you.”

  “I can’t. There’s so much to do. The longer a portion of the inn remains shuttered, the harder it’ll be to refurbish later. Have you seen the carpeting in the rooms still in use? Threadbare in places—and what about the lobby? A fresh coat of paint would do wonders.”

  “What if your rush to make improvements plays directly into your brother’s hands? Until now, he’s owned fifty percent of a struggling enterprise. Your interests are best served by waiting to start improvements.”

  “I’m not waiting.”

  “Linnie, don’t behave rashly. It’s not like you.”

  “You’re asking me to sit by while my family legacy falls into decrepitude.” She stared at him stubbornly.

  Obviously she wouldn’t back down. “If you’re determined to proceed, I should take another shot at persuading him to sell out,” he suggested.

  “You said he’s already turned down your offer.”

  Clasping the threads of his patience, he kept a purchase on her fingers. “Humor me,” he said, brandishing a smile. “If I can’t get Freddie to see reason, so what? Let me take the shot.”

  “What’s the use? My brother is self-centered, but he’s only trying to respect our parents’ wishes.” She released a heavy sigh before adding, “Daniel, there’s something else. Jada made me read the entire contract. We found a clause I should’ve known about long ago.”

  With growing anger he listened as she described the stipulation allowing Freddie to buy her out once they’d both reached their fifties. Her stake in the inn would revert to her irresponsible brother.

  He liked Treat and Sarah Wayfair. Overall, they were fine people. Yet they’d put their daughter in an untenable situation. Although they viewed their son as a disappointment, they favored him. No amount of sacrifice or hard work on Linnie’s part would alter the equation.

  Doubtful Linnie grasped her brother’s preferential treatment. She wasn’t petty, the type of person to keep a scorecard.

  Confident he’d do a better job championing her rights, Daniel said, “Contract negotiations, especially between family members, can get pretty dicey. There’s always the chance of hurt feelings or saying something you’ll wish you could take back later. I should talk to Freddie. I’ll make a cash offer to buy him out.”

  Immediately she dismissed the idea. “Even with a bank loan and the money he’s returned, I can’t pay in full immediately. I’ll need to make payments.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  Her shoulders lifted to her ears, an indication of her eroding confidence. “There isn’t a mountain of cash hidden in a forgotten vault inside the Wayfair,” she sputtered.

  Fully aware she’d view a gift as an insult, he treaded carefully. “I’m honored to loan you the money. Pay me back whenever you’d like.” An elegant solution—after he won her over, he’d insist the money was a gift.

  The offer quieted her expression. “Still trying to protect me?” She rested her palm on the side of his face.

  The softness of her touch made his voice hoarse. “I’ll always keep you safe, Linnie.” Angling his neck, he brushed his mouth across hers.

  A hypnotic gravity drew her closer. Once he captured her in his orbit, he longed to take her mouth fully. An unwelcome sixth sense warned him to hold back. Briefly she closed her eyes.

  When she opened them, he glimpsed a world of sadness. “You can’t protect me, not this time,” she whispered against his lips. “This is a family matter. It’s time I stood up for what’s mine. Spineless and scared is no way to go through life.”

  Her pupils, huge and black, fastened on him. A gratifying discovery—she wasn’t immune to their growing attraction. The moment unfurled like a ribbon on the wind. Finally she moved out of his arms. The distance she put between them came at a heavy cost to his heart.

  She cast a sidelong glance, searching his face for the answers he yearned to give.

  In an admirably neutral tone, she added, “I’ll talk to my parents, ask them to reconsider. If they intervene, Freddie will sell.”

  Intuition warned she’d be sorely disappointed. The Wayfairs were careful people. They wouldn’t alter the inheritance.

  “Why don’t we speak to them together?” he suggested. “I’ll fly down to Florida with you.”

  “I can’t do this in person, not with Freddie sticking around. We’ll sort this out on the phone.” The barest hint of amusement danced in her eyes. “Besides, it’s not a good idea to travel with you. All things considered.”

  “Because I’d make good use of our time alone?”

  “We’d both make good use of the time.”

  The bold statement sent elation winging through his chest. “Is that the first positive remark you’ve made about our relationship? Could be.”

  A tentative smile glossed her lips. “This is like driving without GPS.”

  “I’ll guide you.”

  The conviction in his voice returned her eyes to his. At her waist, her fingers worked in a sudden display of nerves.

  Rushing headlong, she said, “Daniel, this is nothing like relationships when we were kids. Most of the boys I dated? I chose them based on my parents’ disapproval. The more they disapproved, the happier I was to continue a romance. My reasoning was immature
, destructive. Why didn’t I have more self-respect?”

  “You were rebelling,” he pointed out, wishing for the power to erase the past—wishing for the courage to tell her that he loved her completely and the past didn’t matter. “Linnie, you have a first-rate intellect. Your parents never encouraged you to develop your gifts. I’d imagine you were bored. And angry.”

  “There is more to life than fashion and endless shopping.” She shrugged. “Just don’t tell my mother. She lives for Nordstrom.”

  “You’re more like your father. Bright, driven, but without his hair-trigger temper. You inherited the best parts of his personality. Why spend so much time doubting yourself?” A lesson, he mused, he also needed to learn, at least when it came to winning her over. Nearing, he added, “You aren’t spineless. You were born into a family with a history of larger-than-life men. You’re an accomplished woman. If your parents fail to recognize your gifts, the problem is theirs, not yours.”

  The softly issued compliments seemed a burden. Tears welled in her eyes.

  Impetuously, he asked, “What do you think of my house?”

  Sniffling, she glanced up with confusion. “Your house is nice. Why?”

  Running his thumbs beneath her eyes, he collected the tears. “Should we sell it, buy something larger? Don’t ask me to move into the south wing. Jada and Cat may like the free digs, but we’ll never get Puddles off our bed if we’re camped out in a place without decent heating.”

  Grinning, she shook her head. “Are you planning our life together before the first date?”

  “Just thinking ahead.”

  “Well, stop. You’re intimidating.”

  The observation startled him. “In what way?” He viewed himself more as an oversize teddy bear.

  She pushed lightly against his chest. “You’re so sure about us,” she replied, and he noted she’d kept her hands moving. He relished the sensation of her tentative caresses. “What if you’re wrong? What if we date for two months and screw it up? Expect lots of missteps. This is my first serious relationship.”

  “And your last,” he put in, bending slightly to tease her mouth with the hint of a kiss. “I’m not letting you go.”

  “Will you at least take it slow?”

  “I’ll do my best,” he replied, certain he’d fail.

  Her eyes strayed to the boxes. “Will you go with me to the bank?” she asked, steering them both back to earth. “Let’s get the money into the Wayfair’s accounts.”

  Chapter 12

  Linnie’s unpredictable brother wasn’t finished with the surprises.

  After toting the liquor boxes of cash to the bank with Daniel’s help, she returned to find the inn abuzz with excitement. Three white vans emblazoned with the distinctive sea-green logo for Ballantine’s were parked out front. From the vans a line of women carried dresses tucked inside pale-pink tissue.

  Parking beside the vans, Linnie heard a shout.

  Cat sprinted across the veranda. “You won’t believe what your brother’s doing now. He’s offered to buy dresses for all of us.”

  The lobby rang with the excited voices of guests who were growing strangely accustomed to the unusual happenings. Behind the front desk, an overwhelmed Mr. Uchida muttered in Japanese. One of the guests, a sporty woman with a toddler on her hip, stopped the last Ballantine’s clerk in the procession. The woman rooted through the dresses in the clerk’s arms.

  Linnie asked, “Why is my brother buying us clothing?”

  “Mami thinks it has something to do with a conversation he had with Frances.”

  “What did they discuss?”

  “Frances wouldn’t give the details.” Cat shrugged. “My mother is getting in touch with the rest of the Sirens. We’ll all look fabulous for my parents’ anniversary party.”

  She darted through the throng to direct the Ballantine’s women up the stairwell. Linnie attempted to follow. A tap on the shoulder halted her pursuit.

  She spun on her heel. Jada, picking flecks of icing from her curls, gave her a look of exasperation.

  The icing dotting her hair wasn’t the biggest problem. A large circle of goo stamped the front of her blouse. She looked like the victim of a food fight.

  “What happened to you?” Linnie swiped her finger through the batter. “Wow. That’s delish. Chocolate cake?”

  Nudging Mr. Uchida out of the way, Jada hunted beneath the front desk. “It was chocolate cake. We’re one dessert short for tonight’s menu.” She came back up with a rag to mop up the mess. “Our kitchen staff went berserk. I was on my way to the oven when the Ballantine’s vans drove up.”

  “They heard about Freddie’s offer?”

  “Every female in sight stampeded to the lobby. I got a vision of water buffalo racing over a cliff.”

  Linnie’s imaginary trapdoor joggled beneath her. “Wait. Cat’s parents didn’t invite the staff. Mostly because, you know, we need them to cook and serve.”

  “No, but Freddie did.”

  There wasn’t time to digest the unsettling news. Thump, thump, thumps from above rattled the lobby’s chandelier.

  At her questioning look, Jada said, “They’re in the unoccupied suite by the stairwell. Your brother turned the place into a mini department store. Bedroom, sitting room—Cat’s helping with setup. Most of our female employees are up there tussling over formalwear. There’ll be blood on the walls.”

  “No!”

  Sure enough, women streamed through the suite, making grabs for dresses. The overexcited culinary staff were pushing the bed to the wall to make room for squabbles over the elegant selections. The housekeeping staff had hijacked seven or eight rolling coat racks from somewhere on the first floor. The Ballantine’s saleswomen filled each rack to bursting.

  Jada latched on to her arm. “Don’t go inside,” she advised. “You won’t come out in one piece.”

  Linnie shook her off. “We are going in—after I take this up with my brother. Where does he get off raining chaos down on my establishment?” Stalking down the corridor, she threw a glance. “Are you coming or not?”

  The door to Freddie’s suite was locked. Inside, feminine giggling accented the rock music blaring from the stereo.

  “Open up!” Linnie followed the command with fierce pounding.

  With the sound of stomping feet, Freddie threw open the door to his room. His attire consisted of nothing but metallic-green boxers and a pink party hat with “Jumbo” stitched across the front in yellow lettering.

  Repulsed, she stumbled backward. “Freddie, put on some clothes!”

  The more levelheaded Jada took in the glam boxers and party hat with distaste. “Some people never change,” she muttered.

  “Jada, my fiery vixen.” Leaning against the doorjamb, he gave her a look. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”

  Linnie shoved him back inside the suite. “Put a sock in it,” she growled. “The kitchen staff is not prepping tonight’s entrees, and housekeeping has gone bonkers. How am I supposed to run this establishment with half the employees going AWOL?”

  He poured champagne, then lifted the glass with celebratory glee. “What’s the harm in letting them have some fun?”

  “Is it true you invited the entire staff to Silvia and Marco’s anniversary party? They’re celebrating their fortieth with friends and family, not hosting a carnival for the town.”

  “How stingy of you. My sister, a modern-day Scrooge. Of course I invited everyone.”

  “Silvia will have you strung up and shot.”

  “For heeding Frances’s advice? I doubt it. Besides, I’m footing the bill.”

  Frustration welled in Linnie. “I don’t care about your generosity or what Frances advised—there’s a problem. If everyone attends, who will cook, serve, and clear the tables?”

  “A valid consideration.”

  “One that didn’t cross your mind? Seeing as you’re in a Mardi Gras sort of mood?”

  “Never fear. I shall solve the dilemma.” He re
garded his orange-haired assistant. “Lexie, call the nearest temp agency. We need kitchen and waitstaff for Saturday. Don’t forget to hire bartenders and a troop of busboys.”

  “You’re not bringing in strangers to work at my inn. I don’t have time to run them through interviews.”

  “Our inn.”

  “A stupid technicality.”

  “The agency will only hire qualified people.” He patted her on the back with the detached sympathy of a psychiatrist. “Do you need a cookie? You really are unhinged.”

  “Freddie—”

  “Oh, c’mon. For once, let’s free the staff from dirty dishes and crabby guests. We’ll give them a night to remember.”

  The familiar popping sound—her blood pressure skyrocketing—ratcheted through her ears. “Fine. Call a temp agency. I’ll also call some of our past employees—the ones thrown out of work, thanks to you. Some of them will come through for me.”

  “Sounds good. If we host more events, you can hire them all back.”

  Maybe, but she wasn’t about to give him points. “Consider this your last bright idea,” she said. “Assuming Silvia doesn’t mind, the staff can attend. But only because I don’t want a riot on my hands.”

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  “I’d add leave Ohio immediately, but I doubt you’d comply.”

  He smoothed the tips of his mustache. “Honestly, Sugarpop.” He regarded her with feigned dismay. “Something along the lines of gratitude is in order.”

  Jada looked from one to the other. “What’s he talking about?”

  Linnie tugged her from the room. “Ask later.” He meant the liquor boxes of cash, a topic not worth exploring. “Freddie, remember what I said. Keep any future generosity under wraps unless you clear it with me first.”

  In the spare minutes since they’d left, the department store suite had become more crowded. The place stank of a disorienting mix of perfume. In the corridor, a line of eager shoppers waited to enter.

  A matron with a moon-shaped face shivered with anticipation. “A trunk show—how marvelous! My nephew’s wedding is next month.”

  Jada bumped two girls from housekeeping from the line. “Please, go right in,” she told the matron. “We’re selling gowns for the bargain price of five hundred dollars each. Hurry before the best ones are taken.”