Taking Over the Tycoon

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Maude put the potatoes in a bowl and sprinkled them with salt and pepper, before switching on the mixer. “Kristy, you are sinking so much money and effort into this place without any reassurance at all that you are going to make it back.”

  They had been over this dozens of times since Aunt Ida died and left Kristy Paradise Resort, and Kristy had announced her decision to sell her house in Chapel Hill, and move the girls south in time to start the new school year.

  She stabbed the green beans with a fork and found them tender. “I need a life, Mom.”

  Maude carefully added the milk and butter to the mashed potatoes. “You’re only thirty-three. You’re still young enough to go to medical school.”

  Kristy took the remoulade sauce out of the fridge and garnished it with a few sprigs of parsley. “That was your dream for me, not mine.”

  Maude scooped the mashed potatoes into the serving bowl, then paused to regard Kristy hopefully. “Only because you never gave it a chance.”

  Kristy layered the cooked crab cakes onto a large white serving platter. Doing her best to contain her exasperation, she asked, “Don’t we have enough doctors in the family?”

  Her mom ladled the steaming green beans into a dish. “We could always use one more. Think about it, honey,” Maude persisted as they carried the food out to the table set up in the hotel dining room. “Your house in Chapel Hill hasn’t sold yet, and University of North Carolina has a medical school. You could still move back there and get your medical education while the girls are in school. You had the grades and medical college admission test scores you needed to get in. And if not there, you could go to Duke or Wake Forest. Wherever you want.”

  If Kristy thought it would bring her happiness, she would have headed for medical school right out of college. But it wouldn’t. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to make her family understand that. Although Kristy supposed that, too, was her fault. She should never have let her parents pressure her into taking the premed courses and the medical school qualifying exam while simultaneously earning her college degree in hotel management. But she had….

  Maude looked out the door toward where Doug was walking along the beach with his nieces. As usual, whenever they were home or just hanging out, Sally had Lance’s old beach towel slung around her neck, and Susie had his beat up Frisbee clutched in her hand. Maude rang the dinner bell Kristy had mounted next to the door, and signaled them all in. Kristy smiled as they waved and headed toward the lodge.

  “The twins would enjoy going back to North Carolina, too.”

  Kristy wasn’t so sure about that, either. “The only thing that will make the twins happy is if they could have their father back,” she answered soberly, as she brought out pitchers of sweet tea. “And that’s not going to happen.”

  Maude paused. “You still miss Lance, too, don’t you?”

  Kristy didn’t know how to answer that. She missed the man she thought Lance had been when she married him. She lamented all the dashed hopes and lost dreams, and she still felt tied to him in some way. Unable to go back, not quite willing to move on. At least in that sense. Her throat aching, she busied herself getting a plate for store-bought rolls and a bowl for coleslaw. “When do you and Doug have to leave for your medical conference?” she asked instead, as the twins and Doug walked in and went straight to the bathrooms off the lobby to wash up.

  “Tomorrow. Early, about seven.” Maude started to close the doors behind them, then began to smile.

  “What is it?” Kristy asked.

  Her mother turned back to her, surprise in her eyes. “I thought you said your friend wasn’t coming.”

  HE WASN’T SUPPOSED to be here, but you would never know that by looking at Connor Templeton’s face, Kristy thought, her heart racing as she went to the front door of the lodge to show him in.

  Unlike the rest of the family, who were in shorts and T-shirts, Connor was still in the casual business clothes he’d had on earlier, including tie and sport coat. He had two bottles of wine—one white and one red—a bunch of flowers and a basket of gourmet cookies in his arms.

  “My goodness!” Maude said cheerfully, rushing past Kristy to lend a hand. “You really went all out this evening!”

  Connor looked past Kristy to the table in the middle of the hotel dining room, set with steaming food. “Looks like I’m just in time.” He smiled, stepping closer.

  Kristy bit her lip in embarrassment, knowing she was serving dinner a full half hour before she had told him she would, prior to privately uninviting him. Inhaling a whiff of his brisk masculine cologne, she replied, “Supper got ready quickly.” Which was true.

  Doug and the twins came out of the powder rooms in the lobby, smelling of hand soap and sea air. Susie and Sally looked at Connor curiously. Remembering she hadn’t made formal introductions earlier, Kristy said, “Girls, this is Mr. Templeton. Connor, my daughters, Susie and Sally. Connor is going to be eating dinner with us this evening.”

  Susie and Sally eyed Connor curiously, but didn’t seem to care one way or another whether he joined them. Kristy wished she could say the same. She, an accomplished hostess with years of experience entertaining guests, was suddenly all thumbs. Her mother, on the other hand, had already sprung into action and was quickly adding another place to the banquet table.

  The six of them sat down and said grace.

  “Everything looks delicious,” Connor said, as they began passing the food.

  “My husband and I taught all three of our children to be proficient in the kitchen,” Maude stated proudly.

  “What about you?” Doug asked, with an assessing look. “Can you cook?”

  “Uh, no, actually, I can’t,” Connor admitted as he helped himself to a crab cake and passed the platter. “In my house all the cooking was done by the chef. We weren’t even allowed in the kitchen. If we wanted something we had to request it and then wait in the dining room, or if we were sick, in our room.”

  Everyone was looking at him as if he were a Martian. “I’m guessing you’re wealthy?” Maude said eventually.

  “Very,” Kristy said.

  Undaunted, Connor shot her an assessing look. “I’m not sure I’d say very—”

  Aware she was risking his ire, she persisted anyway. “I don’t know what else you call old money and trust funds and multimillion-dollar business deals,” she said with a shrug. “But to me—to us—that’s wealthy, Connor.”

  Recognizing a shot across the bow when he saw one, Doug looked at Kristy curiously. “How do you know all this, sis?”

  “For one thing, I read the Charleston newspaper—Connor’s business deals are always being reported on the front page of the business section.” He was a full-fledged tycoon and then some. An entrepreneur herself, Kristy had to respect him for that. “I’m also friends with his younger sister, Daisy. And she’s talked about what it was like growing up in one of the wealthiest families of Charleston.” It hadn’t been all pleasant. Although, according to Daisy, these days Connor, his sisters and his mother were pretty close. His father, Richard Templeton—who had gone off to Europe to recover after a considerable scandal of his own making—was another story.

  “Plus,” Kristy continued, answering her brother’s questions, “when Connor and his partner, Skip Wakefield, started sniffing around my property, I made it my business to find out everything I could about their commercial real estate and development dealings in the area.” She had wanted to know what, and with whom, she was coming up against, in refusing to sell to them. Although to this point, it had been mostly Skip Wakefield, a pleasant if determined thirty-something bachelor, who had been darkening Kristy’s door every other week or so and putting forth proposition after proposition. Until this afternoon, Connor had been conspicuously absent. A fact she hadn’t really appreciated until now. Skip she could resist. Connor…well, he was not so easy to disregard. Both were handsome, successful, affable men. But there was something about Connor. Something in his eyes. A gentleness, an intui
tive awareness of what she was thinking and feeling and considering, that left her on edge. She wasn’t used to having anyone able to read her mind or predict her next move. Even Lance hadn’t been able to do that. But Connor seemed at least a half step ahead of her. Like now, for instance. He seemed to realize she was planning to use not just his interest in her property, but his blue-blooded background to keep them from becoming friends. And seemed just as determined to prevent said action.

  “Why would they be sniffing?” Sally interrupted, perplexed.

  Connor grinned. “I think that is just a figure of speech,” he said, looking the little girl in the eye. “Kind of like when you say you’re really ticked off about something. You’re not really ticking, right?”

  “Our hearts are.” Susie piped up as she touched the center of her chest. “My daddy was a heart doctor for kids and he used to let me listen to my heart with his stethoscope.”

  “Mine, too,” Sally added seriously.

  “That’s nice.” Connor smiled at them gently, as if he were really enjoying their company.

  “Not to change the subject,” Doug interrupted soberly, “but how come you don’t have any guests here, Kristy?”

  Kristy swore inwardly. She had not wanted to get into this with her know-it-all older brother, who never hesitated to tell her what she was doing wrong with her life. “I’m not reopening until October 15.”

  “You have bookings then?” Maude asked hopefully.

  Kristy cut into a crab cake that was golden brown on the outside and white and flaky inside. “Not exactly.” She dabbed a bite of it into the river of yellow remoulade sauce on her plate.

  “Partially booked then,” Doug ascertained, a worried frown creasing his square face.

  Kristy did not want to be discussing her business problems in front of Connor Templeton. But unless she wanted to lie, there was no helping it. She looked at her mother and brother resolutely. “I’m in the process of trying to hire a concierge slash assistant hotel manager, as well as a chef, handyman and several maids.”

  Maude nodded. “I saw your Help Wanted sign out front.”

  “But in the meantime, I am going through Aunt Ida’s old booking records and sending out brochures to travel agents and groups that used to hold business conferences here,” Kristy continued. She sipped her tea.

  “But you still don’t have any bookings?” Doug asked.

  Kristy’s throat felt parched. Wondering how much worse the familial inquisition was going to get, she said somewhat hoarsely, “I have to open first.”

  “Actually,” Connor interjected, as he reached across the table and gave her hand a brief reassuring squeeze, “I think my sister Daisy rented a cottage here, and so did her new husband, Jack Granger.”

  “When they were first getting to know each other,” Kristy remembered, thankful for the gentle steering of the conversation away from what her brother considered her business mistakes.

  “I still don’t see how you’re going to make any money here, never mind enough to live on and put the girls through college,” Doug said worriedly. He looked at Connor, man-to-man, and asked, “What were you and your partner willing to pay for this place?”

  “That is not dinner table conversation,” Kristy interrupted, with a telling look at her daughters.

  To Kristy’s relief, Doug backed off, albeit reluctantly, and the rest of the meal was devoted to discussing the wonders of the South Carolina autumn.

  “Wonderful dinner, Kristy,” Connor said.

  She smiled and rose, picking up plates in both hands. “My mother helped me cook it.”

  “And we’re not finished yet,” Maude said, getting up to help clear the table. “We still have dessert and coffee.”

  “Well, my hats off to both chefs,” Connor said, just as a knock sounded on the door and a handsome blond man in his mid-forties walked in.

  “I’M HARRY BOWLES,” the stranger said in a charming British accent, as Kristy walked across the room to greet him. “And I’ve come to apply for the concierge job advertised in this morning’s newspaper.”

  She turned her back to the lodge dining room, where the rest of the family sat, watching with an annoying amount of interest, and guided Harry back out into the lobby.

  “I’d like an interview with the hotel management as soon as possible.”

  “I’m Kristy Neumeyer, the resort owner and manager.” Kristy shook his hand, noting that Harry had a firm, businesslike grip. “And if you like, we could do it now,” she said, aware that that would mean missing dessert with her family, but happy for anything that would cut short her brother’s annoying questioning.

  “Everything okay?” Connor Templeton walked up to them and nodded at Harry Bowles. “Nothing has happened to Winnifred, has it?”

  “Winnifred…?” Kristy said. Obviously, the two men knew each other quite well.

  “Deveraux-Smith.” Connor supplied the rest of the name, before nodding again at Harry Bowles. “Harry here has been her butler for years.”

  “Twenty to be exact,” the man replied as he straightened the lapels on his exquisitely cut dark business suit. “And, no, nothing is wrong. I am simply here to apply for the job. I resigned my other position this afternoon and find myself in need of work and a place to stay. And while I could check into a hotel or rent an apartment, I prefer to simply take another position right away.”

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope. “My résumé is inside.” He waited expectantly while Kristy opened it. “As you can see, my talents are extensive and varied. I believe I would make an excellent addition to your staff.”

  No kidding, Kristy thought, running down the list of Harry’s talents. “I’m not sure the salary I am offering is going to be enough for someone of your background,” she said.

  “Why don’t you let me decide that?” he suggested.

  “If you’ll excuse us.” Kristy looked at Connor, then took Harry by the elbow and guided him toward the front desk. “Why don’t we step into my office?” she said. “We can talk privately there.”

  CONNOR HAD NO IDEA what Kristy and Harry said to each other behind closed doors. But it was clear when they emerged that Kristy had hired herself a concierge and assistant hotel manager. She gave him a key. “Cottage 1 is right next to the lodge. You can get settled in this evening and I’ll show you around tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Harry said. He tipped an imaginary hat to Kristy, nodded at Connor and left by the same doors he had come in.

  “Your mother is serving ice cream in the dining room. She’d like to know if you want to join the rest of the family,” Connor said.

  “Sure,” Kristy answered as the telephone rang. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

  As Connor headed off, he heard Kristy scrambling for a pen and paper and talking in the background.

  “Friday, October 15? Yes, we do have availability for that. Twenty-five rooms. Hmm, let me see here. Yes. I think we can do it. Absolutely. No problem. I’ll fax you the cost breakdown first thing tomorrow morning. Thank you!”

  “Got a booking?” Connor said, when she slipped into her seat at the table.

  Kristy grinned. “A group of twenty-five insurance agents from the Oak Park area of Chicago. They used to come here for their annual sales conference, and bring their spouses. For the past two years they went to another resort, but there was a mix-up in reservations and the place that was supposed to house them, on Kiawah Island, suddenly can’t. So they’re coming here instead.”

  “That’s great,” Connor said, looking surprisingly happy for her, considering that he was still trying to buy her out. Kristy noted that Maude and Doug, on the other hand, appeared ambivalent about her first success. As if they were glad she was getting some business, but not so happy that bookings would delay her going back to North Carolina to pursue what they felt was her true calling.

  “The peach ice cream was yummy, Mommy,” Susie said, as she and Sally yawned and p
ushed their empty ice cream dishes away.

  Kristy smiled. “Thank Grandma—she made it for you.”

  The twins chorused, “Thank you.” And yawned again.

  “They look exhausted,” Maude noted. She glanced at Kristy. “Would you like me to supervise their baths and get them ready for bed?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind,” she said, noting that it was already seven-thirty, and the twins’ school night bedtime was in another half hour.

  “I have to call and check on a few patients back in Raleigh, but then I’ll come help you with the dishes,” Doug said, excusing himself, too.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Connor said, already getting up. “I’ll assist Kristy.”

  “Have you ever done dishes?” she asked, as she picked up several ice cream bowls and carried them across the lodge dining room to the big kitchen.

  Connor grinned. “I know how to put things in a dishwasher.”

  That surprised Kristy. She wouldn’t have expected a man like Connor to do even that. But she supposed life was different now that he had his own place, as opposed to the mansion where he, Iris and Daisy had grown up.

  Connor stopped in front of the big commercial dishwasher in the kitchen and looked at it uncertainly. “Although I’ve got to say,” he drawled, “the dishwasher in my loft does not look like this.”

  “THANKS FOR THE HELP,” Kristy said, when they had finished cleaning up. She started the big machine and the two of them walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room, to the lobby.

  “I really like what you’ve done here,” Connor murmured appreciatively. The last time he had been here, shortly before Kristy’s aunt had died, the once-popular lodge had been in decline. All he had seen of the interior were the common areas, but even those had been in a state of disrepair and neglect.

  Today, Connor noted, things were different. Although the floor plan of the solidly built establishment remained just as he recalled, the ambience had undergone a stunning transformation. Once outdated and stodgy, the common areas were now fine examples of sunny, oceanfront chic.