by Jen Talty
It really isn’t that cold out, Reese thought. “You’re going to wait for me, right? I’ll follow you.”
“I’ll be in my car,” she said, “waiting for you, old man.”
He shook his head, then punched in the speed dial for Patty on his phone. It went straight to voicemail. “Can you meet me tonight? I’ll text you with the details. Probably around nine, if that’s okay.”
He ended the call, and then dialed a number he never kept in any phone or address book, anywhere. He probably should, but it was nice to actually know someone’s phone number without asking Siri for it.
Elizabeth answered on the first ring. “So, you got my email.” Her voice indicated she was a little pissed and very disappointed.
“Well, hello to you, too, Nana.” Reese called her sometimes twice a week, but it had been over ten days now, and while he had good enough excuses, they were still excuses.
“Hello, Reese,” she said softly, but the edge hadn’t disappeared. “I don’t hear diddly from you, then I get this email with a bunch of documentation for a bid on a hotel, saying you need it all signed, with bank statements, and you need it yesterday. Mind telling me what the heck is going on? I nearly got in the car and hauled ass north.”
Reese had been so private with his personal life that Nana had never once visited him anywhere in the last seven years. He made it down to see her every three or four months. It had been nearly four months since their last visit.
“I think the documentation speaks for itself.”
“Don’t be coy and cute with me,” she said. “Why do you want to buy a fallen-down hotel?”
“It’s not fallen-down. Just needs a little TLC.”
“Whatever,” Nana said, full of her usual piss and vinegar. “Why do you want to buy it? And if you mention a woman, we’re going to need to have a long talk.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Everything with you and women has either been complicated or non-existent.” The disdain oozing with her words spoke volumes. “So, this purchase is because of a woman?” The suspicion and trepidation in her voice grew.
Reese wasn’t sure how to answer that because he hadn’t sorted out the Patty situation, and he wasn’t about to give his grandmother a heart attack over the phone by telling her about the baby. “It’s complicated.” Besides, he didn’t want her to ‘haul ass’ north and give Patty the third degree.
“I don’t like it when you say that. I’ll need to have her vetted.”
“So not necessary.”
“I beg to differ,” Nana said.
“We’ll talk more when I come to visit, but I need to access to a large sum of money, along with your signatures on the offer, now. If this goes through, maybe it’s time you sell the house and move up here. Get away from the city.”
“White Plains is not the city,” she corrected. “Please tell me you’re not buying this hotel for this woman. Or with this woman. Reese, you haven’t always been—”
“That was one mistake, Nana, and I won’t ever repeat it again,” he said, though considering Patty was pregnant, Nana might see this as more of not learning from his mistakes. “This purchase is for me. For a future, and once I own the hotel, you could move here with me. Wouldn’t you like that?”
His grandmother let out a long sigh. “You know I’ve been talking about selling this place. Making a change. I’m not getting any younger and I know you won’t ever live here again.”
“So, you’re going to do this favor for me?”
“Normally, I’d say, ‘Anything for my favorite grandson,’ but right now, I’m very disappointed, therefore you are no longer the favorite.”
“I’m your only grandson,” Reese said, knowing her chiding hid a world of hurt and frustration. “I understand your concern, but my job is good, and I want to stay here. Permanently.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“That was different,” Reese said. “Can I get access to the money?”
“I’ve already set up an account that you can use to finalize the offer, if you get it. But no woman will be on the title other than me, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Now, I’ve got a crazy question for you.”
“Crazier than you wanting money to buy a hotel?”
Well, here goes nothing, he thought. “Does Jessica’s family still live in Jersey?”
“I haven’t seen her or her family since that dreadful day. Why the hell do you want to know?”
“Because I never divorced her.”
Total silence on the other end. “Nana?” Reese checked his phone, noting a text from Stacey that she was going to leave his sorry old ass behind. The idea that he was actually getting older made him realize it was time. He was going to be a dad, something that he never thought he’d look forward too.
“I’m here, plotting ways to toss you over my knee and whip you with your grandfather’s belt, may he rest in peace.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m still technically broke, so she won’t be getting any of your money if she tries to fight dirty,” Reese said.
“I can’t believe you think she’d be anything less than unfair and downright ruthless,” she said. “But I’ll see what I can find out about that little witch.” The line went dead.
Reese was betting on two things: first, by putting down roots, he’d show Patty he wasn’t the kind of man to ever hurt her or their child, and that he was in it for the long haul. How he was going to prove that was left to been seen.
Second, he loved her. Just admitting it to himself took a load off his shoulders. He couldn’t just tell her, because she’d think he only said it out of obligation. Or that he felt trapped. He understood her reasoning behind those feelings. He’d never given her any reason to believe differently. But he was determined to start making his life uncomplicated in the female department. That meant he needed to prove to Patty that any action he took from this point forward wasn’t because she was pregnant, but because he wanted what that pregnancy offered. Family.
A really family. That he was all in on. Now it was time to prove it.
Stacey was already in her vehicle, and her mouth was moving as fast as her hands; she was obviously on the phone and not happy. He waved. She waved back, but continued talking on the Bluetooth device. The girl had a lot of spunk, but she talked way too much and way too fast. But that wasn’t his problem. Right now, he needed to show Patty he meant business.
Actions, not words.
He followed Stacey back through the village, past Million Dollar Beach, and then up Assembly Point, all the while wondering how to buy The Heritage Inn. There was a lot to consider, but he’d make it work.
Stacey pulled into a driveway containing two big black pick-up trucks with Sutten & Tanner Construction painted in bright white letters on the sides. The house was older, but huge, and it looked as if everything had been remodeled. A two-car detached garage stood on the far side of what could have been a mini parking lot, and the house also had a three-car attached garage.
“Wow,” he said as he got out of the car. “I’ve seen this house from the lake. It’s fantastic.”
“My dad bought it when I was a baby and restored it. I guess it was in pretty bad shape, and he got it for next to nothing.” She ran her hands over one of the trucks. “Looks like you get both my dad and his business partner tonight.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Depends on how much you like to get harassed.”
“Wonderful.” He followed her down the pathway toward the main garage. The house was very private, sitting on the last lot on the point. The evening sky was clear and thankfully, the wind was non-existent. It wasn’t parka cold out, but he’d left his fleece behind.
“Before we go in, I need to warn you about something that you won’t remember from your last encounter with my dad and his partner.”
“I don’t remember anything about it, anyway.”
She laughed. “My dad is a litt
le weird, and his partner even weirder, and since I didn’t have the chance to tell them you were coming, it might be down right bizarre.”
“So I really am just dropping in.”
“I meant to firm up the details since I texted them earlier, but I got into a discussion with Todd on the ride home.”
“Who’s Todd?”
“My boyfriend.”
“All right,” Reese said, feeling awkward.
She opened the door, and he followed her through a small hallway into the kitchen, where a man sat at the table reading the paper and drinking a beer. A younger man with shoulder-length dark hair, wearing an apron, was cooking something over the stove. The cook seemed to be about the same age as Reese, maybe a few years younger. The one at the table didn’t appear to be old enough to be Stacey’s father.
“Hey, baby girl,” said the man at the table without looking up. “How was your day? Shoot anyone?”
“Har, har,” she said.
He looked up then. “Well, who did you bring home?”
“Dad—”
“You’re the drunk dude from the other night,” the long-haired guy said. “You still owe me twenty bucks.”
“Since I don’t remember betting you, I’m going to wager that I don’t have to pay that bet.” Reese shook the younger man’s hand. “Sorry if I offended anyone.”
Both men laughed. “You were highly entertaining,” Stacey’s father said. “Does this mean Todd is chopped liver? I’ll take this drunk over Stupid Face any day of the week.”
“Oh, my God, Dad. Really. This is my partner, boss, and trainer, Reese.” She kissed her father on the cheek. “Reese, this is my dad, Jim, and that guy over there with the spatula is his work wife, Doug.”
Spatula Guy waved. “For the most part, ignore Jim, except when it comes to Todd. He really is a weasel, and we’d both love to see her dump him.”
“Drop it.” Stacey waved her finger at Doug. “It’s not like my dad likes your choice in women any better.”
Doug shook his head. “I’m not his daughter. There is a difference.”
“Where is the little woman?” Stacey chided. “Working late? Out of town? What you think of Todd is exactly what I think of her.”
Reese didn’t know the man, but Doug’s tone was neither playful nor upbeat. Stacey’s was even worse.
“Play nice, children,” Jim said, “and get our guest a beer.”
Reese felt like he’d just entered a Twilight Zone with a state-of-the-art kitchen. Richly-stained hardwood floors. Granite counters. The cabinets matched the floors, and all the appliances were top-of-the-line stainless steel. A large oak table stood in the middle of the huge space.
“A beer would be great,” Reese said.
Jim folded his paper then put it on the table. “Have a seat. So, you’re not after my daughter’s honor, which is too bad, really, because we’d help pave the way.”
“I’m just looking into the possible purchase and renovation of the Heritage Inn, sir.”
“Dad,” Stacey said sternly. “Would you mind not trying to sell me off to my boss?”
“Jared is your boss. This guy is—”
“This isn’t funny,” Stacey muttered.
Jim nodded. “Sorry. So what can we do for you, Reese?”
Doug put a plate in front of Jim, and one in front of Reese.
Reese looked down at the plate, which contained toast with some beef and white sauce. “Thanks. I haven’t had shit on a shingle in years.”
“It’s the only thing Doug can cook,” Stacey said.
“Well, at least I can cook something healthy. All you can do is bake cookies.”
“I could shoot you between the eyes from a mile away,” Stacey said, “and I’d look damn good doing it, too.”
“Both of you shut up. You’re worse than toddlers fighting over a pacifier,” Jim said.
Reese laughed.
Stacey and Doug shot Jim daggers. Jim smiled widely. Interesting family. Explained a lot about Stacey.
“Thanks for dinner,” Reese said. He hadn’t realized he was hungry, but he dug in. Doug sat on his left, and Stacey on his right. It was actually kind of nice. Sort of like being at the Harmons’, except with fewer people and double the sarcasm.
“Reese is interested in the Heritage property,” Stacey said between bites.
“Really?” Jim raised his brow.
“Wish we could have bought that place,” Doug said. “Heard just today that there is some interest. Just hope they want to restore it, not destroy it.”
“I’m thinking about buying the place,” Reese said, surprised he had possible competition.
“What are your plans, son?” Jim asked, his tone serious.
“I want to restore it, modernize it a bit, and make it one of the go-to family places on the south end of the lake. I want to put in an offer, but I admit I’m out of my element.”
Doug and Jim exchanged a few looks, then nodded at each other.
“What do you mean by ‘restore’ and ‘modernize?’” Doug asked.
“I mean to keep the structure, but make it more modern, more appealing to people wanting to stay a week or more. Add to the waterfront. Keep it a family place. There is a whole section of land that could be used to put in family-friendly activities like shuffleboards, a basketball court, that sort of thing. I see it as more of a long-term cabin rental and small hotel.”
Jim and Doug nodded at each other again.
Reese enjoyed their secret communication, but wished he was in on it. The Harmons did that kind of stuff all the time, and it drove him nuts. Hell, even Frank and Jared often had some kind of secret mind-reading going on.
“Why don’t we take this discussion to the family room? Baby girl, how about some cookies?”
“Really, Dad? You want me to make cookies from scratch? Now?”
“I know you have frozen cookie dough hidden in the freezer.”
“And how often have you dipped into that?” she asked, then started rummaging around the kitchen.
“I just make a couple every day to munch on at the site,” Jim said. “Come on, Reese, let’s go to the family room. Doug, any chance you have those blueprints?”
“I have some workups on my laptop. I’ll go get it.”
Reese followed Jim into the family room. It soared up the full two stories of the house, with a spiral staircase to one side, which led to a balcony and windows that overlooked the lake. Living in anything other than an apartment hadn’t crossed Reese’s mind in years. He didn’t need much, so a small space suited him. A family, however, needs more than just a place to rest ones head. A family needed a place to gather and feel safe and Reese wanted to provide that for his… family.
The family room opened to another room, probably the living room, and he saw a deck off that room. Next to the staircase, he saw a couple of doors, and on the other side of the room, a set of French doors. The house was huge, even compared to what he’d seen from the waterfront.
Reese didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Instead, he sipped his beer and planted his butt on the sofa across from Jim’s chair. They sat in silence for a few moments.
“How long have you lived here?” Jim asked.
“A couple of years. You?”
“My entire life. My folks live over on Cleverdale, about five houses down from Jared Blake. Your boss. Good man.”
“He is,” Reese said.
Doug walked in with a laptop already fired up, then placed it on the coffee table. “We have a few different blueprints of The Heritage Inn. A few, we had done for the original owner a couple of years ago, and some, we were considering if we could have bought the place ourselves.”
Doug tapped the keyboard a few times, and a 3D image appeared. He clicked a few more keys, and the images rotated. “The cabins are all in good shape, so not much to do there, but here”—He pointed to the screen—“we thought of adding a few more cabins, a playground, tennis courts, and a few other family-fri
endly activities, as you mentioned.” The images on the screen changed, showing the suggested layout. Doug tapped away again. “The main building has some problems, but if you gut the lobby, reconfiguring it like this”—He pointed to the screen as the plans replaced the old Heritage images—“you’ll be able to get into all the walls and fix every problem, maybe breaking only half the bank. Everything else just needs to be updated, refinished, et cetera.”
Reese took a long sip of his beer. Money wasn’t the object. Winning over Patty was. “What about the main residence?”
“Nothing wrong with the house. It was built in the early seventies, but renovated about ten years ago. I did the work on that. Would you plan on living there?”
“I guess so,” Reese said. “Let me ask you this.” He put his beer on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In its current condition, do you think the property is worth six-point-five million?”
“Yes,” Jim and Doug answered at the same time.
“So what do you suggest I offer?”
Jim and Doug exchanged glances. “Not far under the asking price. Maybe six-point-two million,” Jim said, “and I’d do it as soon as possible. Personal question, but do you have the money to offer top dollar?” Jim asked.
“I do,” Reese admitted.
“And do all the necessary work?” Jim asked.
“I do,” Reese admitted.
Stacey entered the family room, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. “What did I miss?” She’d changed from her uniform into jeans and a trooper sweatshirt. She’d also pulled her hair out of the bun, and it hung in waves to her waist.
“Reese is going to buy the Heritage,” Jim said.
“I’m considering hiring your dad to do the work,” Reese said.
“We can get you a list of references. Anything built on Harmon Hill in the last eight years, we’ve done both the construction and the design,” Doug said. “Also, we’re totally redesigning the Village Place. You can stop by anytime.”
Reese didn’t know a lot about construction or design, but he could tell quality work when he saw it, and Frank and Lacy had hired Sutten & Tanner to build their house. Add the fact they were locals that sealed the deal. “I think I’d like to retain your services now.”
