“You too,” he answered. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as she strode inside the resort without another glance back at him.
As soon as she was gone, Nate sank down at the pool’s edge again. He jabbed a hand through his hair, shell-shocked at the scrambled mess his life had become.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he didn’t have to check to know who was calling. He’d told his father about the walk-through. No doubt the old man was calling for a full report.
If Nate didn’t answer, his father would assume the worst, that Nate had somehow messed up.
He let out a heavy sigh of resignation. Better to get the unpleasant conversation over with now. Then he could head back to the room he’d rented. Make a few calls that should provide info and figures that would benefit his official report on their bid. The rest of his afternoon, he planned to spend touching base with a few contacts in Sarasota before heading to Scallywags to grab a bite.
A tasty burger, a finger or two of smooth whiskey, and the picturesque Paradise Key sunset view. The perfect combination to fuel his brainstorm session as he figured out what the hell he was going to do about Sofía. If he’d somehow be able to convince her to give them another shot, or if standing on opposing sides of the city commission’s vote would drive a wedge between them he’d never be able to dislodge.
Pulling out his cell, Nate tapped the green icon on the screen to answer the call. “Hello, Father. To what do I owe the honor?”
“Cut the crap,” his dad’s voice boomed through the speaker. “What the hell’s going on down there?”
Chapter Five
“It’s great to hear from you,” Nate bit out the words, bristling at his father’s propensity to micromanage him. Only when it came to business because, frankly, they spent very little time together outside of the office.
Nathan Hamilton, II, busied himself with networking, researching potential investments, or finagling an inside track on whatever deal he was either involved with or wanted in on. Idle conversation with his son about mundane topics like what was new in Nate’s life or what his own goals might be didn’t advance any of those pursuits. That meant it never occurred.
“I called earlier. Why didn’t you pick up?” his father barked.
“Probably because I was in the middle of the walk-through. Which, had you looked at the office shared calendar, you would have been aware of.”
Too keyed up to stay still, Nate hopped to his feet, striding along the perimeter of the free-form-shaped pool.
“So?”
“So what?” Oh, he knew what his father wanted. Perversely, Nate felt compelled to make him ask.
A huff of breath whooshed through the speaker.
“Nate, I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with your games. What’s your assessment of the property?”
“A lot of work to be done. The main building has some water damage from storm surges during past hurricane seasons. The grounds are pretty rough. Still have to check out the cabanas to get a clear picture.”
No need to admit he’d gotten a little side tracked by Sofía and his compulsion to be with her, to offer her comfort.
“What’s this I hear about another bidder?”
One step shy of the cement path leading to the cabana area, Nate pulled up short at his father’s question. The last thing he wanted was his dad poking his greedy fingers into the deal, stirring the pot and making things difficult for Sofía.
Nate had told her they’d play fair. For that to happen, his father had to stay out of it.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Nate answered.
He purposefully kept his tone light, casual. His father had an uncanny knack for sensing any sign of weakness as if it were chum in the water. And like the shark Sofía had accused him of being, his dad would launch into attack mode.
Promise or no promise to his mom about keeping the family peace, Nate refused to let his father get at Sofía.
“What have you found out about them? Anything we can use?”
Nate rubbed at the base of his neck and the ever-present tension headache his father’s words exacerbated.
“It’s early still,” he hedged. “Might be a small group. I’m not sure about their ability to come up with the capital needed to convince the Land Planning Agency and city commission to lean their way. But they’re motivated.”
Not that Nate had any idea about the specific details of Sofía’s bid. He did know she wasn’t rolling in cash, and had to be working to piece together a suitable financial plan.
Then again, if there was anyone who could do the impossible, it was her. Strong, determined, savvy. Sofía’s deep connection to Paradise Key and this resort would fuel her desire to win.
Those emotions could also be her downfall.
Not, however, if he had anything to do with it.
“Keep digging,” his father ordered. “Everyone has a weak point. Find theirs. With land in that area scarce, this could be a nice piece to have for collateral or bargaining down the road. Now, how about the Sarasota site? How is that looking?”
Geez, Nate shook his head in amazement. Staring out at the open ocean, the midday sun glistening on its surface, he marveled at the ease with which his father switched from plotting the downfall of one competitor to setting his sights on another potential acquisition. That single-mindedness had increased the family fortunes Nate’s grandfather had left them. It had also cost him relationships.
“I’m headed to Sarasota this weekend,” Nate answered. “You’ll have a full report next week. Probably—”
“Monday,” his father interrupted. “I’ll expect to see it by close of business.”
Nate fumed, a curse word ready to roll off his tongue. Knowing his father would see anger as another weakness, Nate dialed back his initial retort and ground out, “You’ll get the report when it’s ready.”
“Listen—”
“Dad, I’m doing my job down here. You looking over my shoulder is only going to hinder the process, and I know you have better things to do anyway. I’ve got this. Back off, okay?”
Several beats of tense silence ticked by.
Nate slid his gaze over the wildly overgrown grounds. Weed choked the flowerbeds, suffocating the buds struggling to bloom in the spring weather, like his father’s demanding presence had always suffocated him.
“Get it done. You know what’s expected of you.”
Without waiting for a response, his father cut the line.
Disgusted, with his father for his superior attitude and with himself for putting up with it, Nate strode down the cement path until he reached the edge of the sandy beach.
Rather than remove his loafers for a walk, he hunkered down and scooped up a handful of sand. The tiny grains slipped through his fingers, leaving behind a dirty residue with bits that pricked his palm when he closed his fist. Much like his memories of Sofía and the life he’d once envisioned for himself, for them, pricked his heart.
As if it were yesterday, he recalled the purple and orange sunset sky. A hot, humidity-laden breeze teasing Sofía’s silky hair. They’d spread a towel under the base of a palm tree, then sprawled on it side by side, wrapped in each other’s arms, Sofía’s long, tanned legs entwined with his. Her head on his chest, her spicy floral scent teasing him with each breath.
She had talked about her dream of working in the hotel and resort industry. Owning her own modest place, maybe a bed and breakfast in Miami, close to her parents.
He’d shared his secret desire. A hope, a burning need, to succeed in the family business, without turning into his father. And yet, he’d spent his adult life giving in to the man’s edicts. Nearly marrying a woman he liked, but didn’t love.
Walking away from the one woman he did.
Childish laughter drifted on the wind. Further down the beach, a group of kids had kicked off a game of two-on-two beach volleyball. A sad smile tugged the corners of Nate’s mouth. There’d been a time when he and Sofía wo
uld have joined the fun. Called dibs on the next match.
Now they stood on opposite sides. Opponents on the resort’s sand volleyball court whose existence was relegated to nothing more than a set of weather-roughened wooden poles standing apart, the net long disintegrated.
His dad would yell at him to spike the ball, win the point. Close out the match.
There had to be another way.
Could he win the bid for Hamilton, Inc., without devastating Sofía?
His father was the king of loopholes, side deals, and getting his way. From time to time, Nate had been told the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in his family. Only, he planned to use the wily ways he’d learned from his father to see if there was some way, any way, to turn his predicament into a win-win situation.
Somehow, he’d keep his promises to his mom and Sofía. At the same time, if he were lucky, he’d find his way back into Sofía’s good graces. Back into her arms and her life.
Rising to his feet, Nate headed up the walkway. Rather than make his way to lunch at the deli with Braddock as planned, he tapped out a quick message to let the commissioner know he’d have to take a rain check.
He was a man on a mission, with a winning game plan to devise.
“Thanks for hosting Evie, Lauren, and me Saturday night, Sal. I really appreciate your advice,” Sofía told her mentor.
“Hell, it goes without saying you can count on me for anything. Vivian and I already talked it over, and we agree that you’re a smart investment.”
Seated at the dining room table in Tía Mili’s condo late Monday morning, talking on the phone to Sal, Sofía’s eyes misted at his words. The retired radio station owner from Jersey had been her mentor since she’d met him and his wife Vivian in Miami.
At the time, they’d been snowbirds living up North, but winter regulars at the boutique South Beach resort where Sofía was busy clawing her way up the ladder. In the six years since, Sal Bernardino had become her sounding board when politics and prejudice stood in her way. Sal and Vivi had played a huge role in her jump from hotel staff to manager when they asked her to take over running their three bed and breakfast homes in Key West.
Sofía owed them a lot. Which also meant she didn’t want to take advantage of their goodwill.
“I appreciate you saying that, Sal. And I really appreciate your offer this past weekend.”
“But you’re not going to let me make this easier for you, are you?”
“No. That’s not my style, and you know it.”
“Hardheaded women, save me from them!” Sal’s booming laughter was cut off by a short, hacking cough. Sofía heard what sounded like a few thumps to his burly chest before Sal spoke again. “Damn heartburn’s been bugging me all morning.”
“Make sure you take your meds,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, yeah, Vivi nags me about that enough already.”
“Good for her.” Warmth for the couple spread through Sofía’s chest. “It was wonderful to spend time with you and Vivi in St. Pete this weekend before you headed back to the Keys. I’m thrilled you were finally able to meet Lauren and Evie.”
“Those two are powerhouses. Like you!” Sal’s rumbling chuckle brought an answering smile to her face. “Vivi and I enjoyed seeing you three together. I’m sorry we never got the chance to know Lily.”
“Me too, she was amazing.” Regret tightened Sofía’s chest in its painful grip. Lily’s unexpected passing had stoked a fire within Sofía, heating her determination to a blue flame. “I’m sad her death is what brought the girls and me back here now. And yet, I wouldn’t be making this move if I hadn’t come home to honor her.”
“If she was anything like the others, Lily would be proud of what you’re doing,” Sal assured her. “Hey, don’t forget to give Jenna a hug from us. Tell her that we need to meet this new guy of hers, see if he gets my approval.”
Sofía chuckled as Sal’s tough-guy impersonation smoothed over the sentimental turn of their conversation. With his brawny build and thick Jersey accent, he did a convincing imitation of a wise guy who could put the screws to someone if needed. He was all talk, though, more prone to big bear hugs than fisticuffs.
On the other side of the counter separating the condo’s open living, dining, kitchen area, Tía Mili paused in washing their breakfast dishes. Her brown eyes crinkled as she sent Sofía a smile of encouragement.
Dile hola, her tía mouthed. Sofía nodded.
“Tía Mili says hi, and I’ll definitely pass along the message to Jenna,” Sofía told Sal. “The girls and I are actually meeting at Scallywags later today.” After her appointment with the bank’s loan officer. Her stomach clenched with worry-tinged anticipation. “I better get going. Wanna make sure I’ve got everything squared away before this afternoon. You take care of yourself, big guy. Listen to Vivi and stop eating all that crap that makes you feel bad.”
“It’s all good. Just a little indigestion. Don’t worry about me. You focus on what you gotta do there.”
They exchanged good-byes, Sofía promising to update Sal and Vivi on how things went with the bank, then hung up.
“Son buena gente, verdad?” Tía Mili asked.
“Sí, they’re good people. I was blessed to meet Vivi and Sal.” Sofía smiled fondly, remembering that day. “Then to have them place their trust in me with their B&B’s. They’re familia now.”
She set her phone next to a stack of the papers she’d spread out on the mottled cream, brown, and black marble veneer tabletop. “Sal gave me some good insight and advice after brunch yesterday while Vivi and the girls relaxed on the beach.”
“The same way you took the time to guide me when I started my business.” Tía Mili dried her hands on a blue kitchen towel as she skirted the counter to pull out a chair next to Sofía. “El bien viene del bien.”
Good comes from good. One of her tía’s and her mami’s favorite sayings. Handed down from their mami, Sofía’s abuela, in Puerto Rico.
She sure hoped that was true. Because her Plan A—secure a larger loan in her name, with Sal and Vivi playing only a small investor role—was a long shot with the bank. The kind that had her texting Mami to ask for extra prayers.
Sofía drummed her fingers on the tabletop. She scanned the papers—financial statements, renovation plans, a scale drawing of her vision for the resort grounds and buildings, amongst others. Was this enough to convince the loan officer, a man who’d moved to Paradise Key a few years ago when his wife took a teaching position at the island’s K-12 school? With no strong ties to the community and its residents, there’d be little chance of him giving Sofía any leeway as a local.
“You can do this, nena. I have faith in you.” Tía Mili put her hand over Sofía’s, gently silencing the nervous thrumming. “If you are determined, you will find a way. I know the resort is more than a piece of property to you. It holds precious memories, no?”
“Of course it does.” Sofía twisted her hand to grasp her tía’s tightly with her own. “It’s what brought you and tío to Paradise Key. If that hadn’t happened, I never would have met the girls.”
“Or him.”
Dios mío, Sofía’s heart hiccupped, missing a few beats at Tía Mili’s softly spoken words.
More than a godmother, her madrina had been a second mother to her. There for many of the big steps in Sofía’s developing life.
She knew the only boy Sofía had dated in high school had been Nate. And while they’d kept their relationship quiet at the resort, there’d been no need to pretend at Tía Mili’s house. Familia dinners. Date nights enjoying the sunset from the small dock near the condo. Movie nights on the couch, with Tía Mili watching or snoozing in her recliner nearby.
“Have you spoken with him again?”
“Again?” she asked, sidestepping the question. “How do you know I’ve spoken with him at all?”
Lame stall tactic. In a town as small as Paradise Key, with her tía’s close connections, it’s a wonder she hadn’t k
nown about Nate’s arrival before Sofía had.
“The walk-through on Friday? Nathan was there, verdad?” Tía Mili raised her brows, an unspoken, “you can’t fool me” in her wide-eyed expression.
“Right,” Sofía confirmed.
Jenna’s occasional complaints about everyone on the island knowing everyone else’s business, whether she wanted them to or not, rang in Sofía’s ears. Her lips twisted with a grimace. “I take it you ran into Vida at mass yesterday, huh?”
“Si.”
“Then you know all there is to know. The Hamiltons plan to bid on the resort. I plan to beat them.” And she would, if she could convince the bank to say yes.
The nervous anxiety she’d been struggling to quiet churned in her belly. Sofía pushed back her leather chair, its wooden legs scraping across the tile floor. Bending over the table, she gathered the papers, pushing down her laptop screen to slap it closed. Wishing it were that easy to close the unwanted direction this conversation had taken.
“You can’t fool me, sabes?”
Sofía barely kept her eyes from rolling to the heavens. “Yes, I know.”
“So talk to me. This cannot be easy for you. Nathan was your first love. Like my David.”
“Oh no!” Sofía straightened with a jerk. She swatted a hand angrily through the air as if wiping away her tía’s assertion. “It’s not the same. What you had with Tío David was real. True love and commitment. Nate and me, that was fun times together, nothing more.”
If she kept telling herself that lie, she’d eventually believe it. Then the pain of his decision to propose to Melanie, confirming Sofía’s unspoken fear she’d never be considered good enough for the Hamilton name, would cease.
Tía Mili started to protest, but Sofía cut her off. “Por favor, let’s not discuss it. Not now.”
Face creased with worry, her tía plopped back in the leather dining chair.
“I have to concentrate on my pitch to the bank this afternoon,” Sofía continued. “Without the loan, none of this—” she shook the papers in her hands, the desperation she’d hidden from her familia threatening to spew like lava, “—will matter.”
Resort to Love Page 5
