Resort to Love

by Priscilla Oliveras

  “I had cafe con leche with a boiled egg, so I’m good to go.”

  Tía Mili huffed. “Ay nena, you eat like a pajarito. If you’re not careful, you’ll blow away in the wind.”

  Sofía chuckled, hurrying over to press a kiss on her tía’s cheek. “Bueno, this little bird has to fly the coop. I’m meeting Vida Mayfair at Paradise Key Resort for a walk-through. I’ll grab something at Deli 2983 if I get hungry.”

  “I am so proud of you, nena.” Tía Mili gave her a tight hug, the crisp scent of pine cleaner filling Sofía’s lungs. “You are such a good example for your brothers. Always working hard. Helping others, like me, to reach for our dreams. I am praying very hard for this to work out for you.”

  “Gracias, tía.” After another quick squeeze, Sofía slipped out the front door of her tía’s modest two-bedroom condo.

  She hurried down the three flights of rickety wooden steps. Reaching the bottom, she sidestepped one of the thick-beamed stilts that lifted the wood-slat building high off the ground to avoid potential flooding during hurricane season. Her tía had lived in this same ten-unit complex, barely a five-minute walk down Old Mill Drive and 2nd Street to the resort, since she and Tío David had moved here from Miami nearly twenty-five years ago.

  Both had landed jobs at the resort. Tía Mili in housekeeping; Tío David in maintenance. They had carved out a new life on this quiet little beach island, away from the hectic city life. Sofía had loved family visits to see her favorite tía and tío. But three short years into their idyllic life here, Tío David had drowned in a freak boating accident. Mami had thought her sister would move back to Miami with them, or to Puerto Rico with the rest of the familia.

  But Mili had stayed, clinging to the memories she and her beloved had created in Paradise Key. That next summer, at the age of ten, Sofía had begged to stay with Tía Mili instead of going to her abuela’s in Puerto Rico.

  “I can keep her company. And then she won’t be so lonely,” she had pleaded with Mami and Papi.

  That had been Sofía’s first full summer in Paradise Key. She’d come here wanting to be close to her tía, offer her comfort. Not knowing her life would change when she met Jenna and Lily at a local arts festival, then later connected with Evie and Lauren while sneaking a dip in the resort pool one blazingly hot and humid July afternoon.

  Sofía hefted her laptop satchel higher on her shoulder, then glanced at her slim gold watch. It was nine forty. She wasn’t meeting Vida until ten. Plenty of time for her to slow her walk and mentally review the notes and questions she’d put together in preparation.

  Out on the Gulf, a fishing boat headed for deeper water. The sun glistened off the rippling blue surface, white flumes spraying in the boat’s wake. The tranquility of the ocean with the horizon just out of reach never failed to calm her.

  A few cars moseyed their way down 2nd Street, either locals or tourists who’d adopted the island’s slow pace of life. A pair of teenaged bikers on beach cruisers pedaled by with smiles and waves for her. Up ahead on the sidewalk, a mom with two little kids underfoot tugged open the door to Delightful Scoops. One of the shaggy-haired youngsters whooped with an excited, “I’m getting cookies and cream, okay, Mom?”

  Sofía grinned at his exuberance, then craned her neck to check both ways before stepping into the road to cross to the property.

  She reached the parking lot, her sandaled feet slowing when she noticed two cars parked near the resort’s arching entry. One was a dark green convertible with Georgia license plates. The other was an old Ford truck that, based on the Levy County, Florida, tag and the “Paradise Key, Best Place to Be” bumper sticker, no doubt belonged to Vida. Born and raised on the island, the older woman was one of the biggest proponents for keeping growth in check to avoid altering the family friendly, nature-loving vibe.

  Sofía was counting on Vida’s strong sentiments to carry over into what the older woman envisioned for the resort. That would play right into Sofía’s idea to turn it into a family vacation, nature-themed destination wedding site.

  Wondering who might have joined Vida before Sofía’s arrival, she hurried up the tile walkway toward the glass revolving door.

  Her heart dive-bombed into her stomach, then ricocheted up to lodge in her throat when she spotted Nate, elbow bent as he leaned against the registration desk off to the left. Looking comfortably casual in khaki pants and a striped navy and light blue button-down shirt, he straightened as soon as he saw her. His brows slanted in a confused scowl.

  “There she is,” Vida greeted her with gusto as soon as the revolving door spit Sofía into the lobby.

  The older woman clapped her hands, glee brightening her lined features. Gray curls framed her face like a metallic bike helmet, the perfect foil for her bright blue eyes. Her baggy jeans, loose-fitting floral blouse, and Birkenstock sandals rounded out Vida’s child-of-the-sixties look, her friendly personality a welcome accessory.

  Vida rushed over to give Sofía a hug in greeting, then stepped back to stretch an arm out toward Nate as she announced, “Well, now that you’ve both arrived, we can get started with the tour.”

  “Wait, why is he here?” Sofía asked, pointing at Nate.

  “Excuse me?” he said at the same time.

  They both broke off, his annoyed glare answering the one she aimed his way.

  “Oh dear, I thought Tyson would have told you. Or did he ask me to do that?” Vida pressed a knuckle to her pursed lips. “No, I’m pretty sure he said he’d handle that. Maybe? Anyway...” She waved off the issue like it didn’t matter. “I figured since the two of you go way back, you wouldn’t mind doing this together. That way I can be sure to share the same information with you, since you’re both potential bidders.”

  Sofía flinched at Vida’s words. “I hadn’t realized there was another interested party. Tyson—” the slime ball, “—neglected to mention that when I first spoke with him on Monday.”

  “My people have been looking into this property for several weeks now,” Nate said, his aloof tone indicating she was the interloper here. “Braddock and I have spoken multiple times. The first I heard of another interested party was Wednesday, when he and I met for coffee. But he didn’t say who it was.”

  Sofía bit back an exasperated groan. Of course his “people” were involved. That also meant the Hamilton name, money, and reputation. Braddock, social-climber extraordinaire, was probably lapping up the chance to rub elbows with Nate. Just like the schmoozer had done when the two men had been at Harvard.

  Her stomach clenched with disappointment.

  Dios mío, she’d been banking on her bid being the only one. That would make it difficult for anyone on the Local Planning Agency, even Braddock who was the LPA’s chair, to turn her down and risk keeping the resort in its current state of disrepair. An eyesore for the community. With the LPA on her side, odds were better the local bank might approve her loan, despite her shaky financial situation.

  “I’m fine doing this together. Hamilton Inc. has nothing to hide.” Hands in the front pockets of his khaki slacks, Nate struck a nonchalant pose. He flashed the infamous Hamilton smile he’d inherited from his father. The teeth-baring, confident one that typically won over doubters and fans alike.

  Like Vida, who grinned back at him.

  But Sofía knew Nate well enough to note the slight tightening of his square jaw when he focused her way. The flash of challenge in his eyes irked her. Even with his mother’s green eyes, Nate resembled his father far too much. The Hamilton competitive streak that could turn ugly on a dime wasn’t something she’d seen often in Nate. If anything, he’d sought to be different, despising his father’s ruthlessness.

  Apparently, things had changed in the two years since she’d cut off communication with him.

  Bueno, she had changed, too. Her career goals were now in sharper focus. Nothing, and no one, would stand in her way of winning this bid.

  “Oh, I’m good with it, too.” Sofía quirked a shoulder, p
retending she didn’t have a care in the world. “Let Nate get a look at the property as it is now, that way when he comes back for the grand re-opening, he’ll appreciate my vision even more.”

  Vida threw back her head with a cackle.

  Nate’s lips twitched like he was fighting off his own laugh.

  Sofía smiled, the crack in his Hamilton veneer warming the chill between them.

  “Cheeky girl. I’ve always told Mili that I liked your gumption,” Vida said on a chuckle. “Smart advice you gave her about starting her own cleaning company before this place shut down.”

  “Thanks,” Sofía answered, surprised Vida knew about her role in guiding Tía Mili through the steps of becoming a small business owner. Then again, there were few secrets in a town of this size, especially since the two ladies regularly volunteered at church together. “I’m relieved things are going well for her.”

  “Me too.” Vida rubbed Sofía’s upper arm in a friendly gesture that spoke of their personal connection.

  Sofía felt Nate’s intuitive gaze on them. Probably calculating how that personal connection might play into the Local Planning Agency’s decision.

  To her count, it was one vote for each of them because more than likely Nate had Braddock’s wrapped up. Sofía was crossing her fingers she’d have Vida’s. Not because of their relationship, but because Sofía was confident she understood what the long-time locals wanted for their community. No way the Hamiltons had their finger on the pulse of this town like she did. Money could only buy so much.

  “Okay then.” Vida swung her gaze from Sofía to Nate. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

  “Lead the way.” Nate gave a gentlemanly tilt of his head, indicating he’d follow behind them.

  The older woman began regaling them with details about the property, how it had changed hands several times since Nate’s family had sold the resort about seven years ago. After the last owners had closed the doors and left town without warning, alerting their employees via email, the city had bought the property. The goal now was to find the right owners, with the right restoration plan and ideas to fit the island’s vision for its future.

  As they walked through the bare lobby area, the tile floor faded and cracked in places, nostalgia lingered in the air, filling Sofía’s lungs with every breath. If she closed her eyes, she could picture the place as it had been in its heyday. Tía Mili in her peach-colored uniform dress, pushing her cart down the carpeted hallways in the main building or between the private cabanas along the left side of the lush property. Lauren and Evie hanging out by the pool, waiting for Sofía to finish her shift at the Tiki Hut grill. Lily and Jenna showing up when they finished their local part-time jobs, too. Nate standing behind the registration desk in a polo bearing the Hamilton swirling “H” logo, heading out to the pool area so they could meet up during their breaks.

  Good times. Innocent times.

  She’d known it would probably end when they all went away to college. Sofía simply hadn’t counted on the hateful role Nate’s dad had tried to play in it. The audacity of that man tracking her down on campus, trying to bribe her with money for college if she’d quit “distracting” Nate from his responsibilities.

  Por favor, she had ripped his check in half and, head held high, walked away. Never telling anyone about the one and only time she’d exchanged private words with the cretin. It was a secret she’d even kept from Nate, more to salvage her own pride than to protect his bully of a father.

  Shaking off the hateful memory, Sofía keyed back into Vida’s tale of the resort’s recent history. Twenty minutes into their tour, when they’d only hit the lobby and dining room, Vida’s cell chimed an incoming call from the back pocket of her baggy jeans. She fished it out, excusing herself as soon as she realized it was her husband.

  Vida moved a few feet away for privacy. It wasn’t far enough away for Nate and Sofía not to catch the older woman’s shocked gasp. “Orville, what do you mean you may or may not need stitches? How bad is it?”

  Sofía exchanged a surprised look with Nate. Both stepped closer when Vida visibly paled.

  “Good Lord. Sit tight. I’ll be home in less than five. And prepare yourself. If I say we’re going to the emergency room, we’re going.”

  A deep grumble could be heard before Vida disconnected the call.

  “Everything okay with Orville?” Sofía asked, mentally thunking herself on the back of the head for the inane question. Obviously, there was a problem.

  “Word to the wise, sweetie, when you encourage your newly retired husband to pick up a hobby, make sure it’s not one that involves sharp objects, okay?” Vida heaved a disgruntled sigh as she shook her head.

  “Men—can’t live with ’em, can’t shoot ’em,” Sofía offered in commiseration. She gave Nate a side-eye glare that had Vida laughing and him pshaw-ing.

  “Something like that.” Vida fished a set of keys from her front pocket. “Look, if I leave these with you two, will you promise to lock her up tight and get them back to me by tomorrow? I can’t imagine anyone would have a problem with you being here. It’s not like you’re strangers or anything.”

  Sofía flinched. Continue the walk-through with Nate, alone?

  The emotional side of her brain told her to follow Vida out the revolving door.

  The business side reminded her she needed to get a lay of the land to better strengthen some of the points in her bid.

  “Sure.” Nate took the keys from Vida. “I don’t mind dropping them off. Don’t worry about us. Go see what your husband needs. We’re good. Right, Sofía?”

  The worry in Vida’s normally bright blue eyes tipped the scales of Sofía’s indecision. “Yeah, you go take care of Orville. Let me know if there’s anything Tía Mili or I can do to help.”

  She gave Vida a hug good-bye, then watched her family friend hurry out.

  “Just you and me, like old times, huh?”

  Nate’s off-the-cuff remark was like the flame from a tiki torch reigniting her anger and frustration.

  Sofía rounded on him in a flash of indignation. “Do you really have business in Sarasota, Nate? Was that even the truth? Or was it more of that infamous Hamilton shark-like strategy? That’s where we are now, huh? You lying to my face?”

  He reared back, brows raised in surprise.

  When he opened his mouth to respond, she threw up a hand in a stop sign. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

  She was too overwhelmed by emotion, too near the edge of tears she absolutely refused to cry in front of him. God forbid he’d think she was crying over him, and not the very real threat of losing her dream before she’d even had a chance to savor the potential.

  Her throat crammed with heartache, Sofía spun away, ready to head off on her own solo tour of the resort.

  Nate grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice gruff with an emotion she couldn’t place. “Don’t walk away like this. Not again. Please.”

  That last word got to her.

  Jerky. Haughty. Domineering. All of those Hamilton traits she could easily turn her back on, giving him the finger on her way out.

  But humble contrition laced with a ribbon of pain echoed in his pinched expression, ensnaring her as securely as one of Tío David’s or her papi’s fishing hooks.

  Swallowing the hurt, but grabbing onto her anger, Sofía turned back to face Nate. “Fine. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Chapter Four

  What do you have to say for yourself?

  Sofía’s question was eerily close to the one his father had thrown at him when he’d stormed into Nate’s office last week, still pissed about Nate and Melanie’s broken engagement.

  Forget that thirty minutes earlier, Nate had forwarded his dad an email about two smaller prospective properties Nate had researched and made on-site visits to over the past several months. Both hotels were nearly in the bag, key acquisitions in his plan to form a small con
glomerate of boutique resorts within Hamilton, Inc.; a division Nate sought to manage, if his father would ever give him the green light.

  Foolishly, Nate had expected a congratulatory toast with the bottle of Pappy Van Winkle whiskey his father kept in his office. But Nathan Hamilton, II, didn’t want to listen to business plans involving luxury boutique hotels. Not when he’d rather berate Nate over his inability to close the simplest of mergers. Namely, marriage to a woman who’d always been a friend, never a lover.

  The last thing his father wanted to hear was Nate expressing his thanks for Melanie’s ability to see the light first. Saving them both from making a grave mistake.

  So, the senior Hamilton had responded in the only way he knew how. Banishing Nate once more to the sedate beaches of Paradise Key. It was his dad’s way of testing him. Using his rapier-sharp tongue to slash at Nate’s pride with the claim that maybe he wasn’t ready to be trusted with the family business. The same edict he’d given the summer when Nate was first ordered to the island fourteen years ago.

  To sixteen-year-old Nate, being relegated to this sleepy island town had been like a prison sentence. The opposite of working at their Atlantic City property, closer to his friends.

  Then Sofía had walked through the revolving glass doors, and, just like it did now, his pulse raced with anticipation.

  Thunderstruck.

  That was the best way to describe how he’d felt back then. And today.

  Seeing her push through the main doors a little while ago... Finding out she was the competition for a deal he could not afford to lose...

  Irony of freaking ironies. He’d thought being back here, seeing her with her friends and knowing she’d easily moved on without him, was as bad as it could get.

  Sofía glared at his hand, still holding onto her wrist, then up at him. The gold flecks in her hazel eyes flashed with irritation, her sandal tapping the tile floor as she waited for his explanation.

  He released her, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out for her again.