The Mistakes I've Made

by J. L. Berg

  I let out a laugh, remembering how angry Taylor had been when I finally got him to admit who owned that miserable excuse for a hotel. I’d watched as his chest heaved and his eyes hardened in response to my demand. Just recalling it now, I found myself biting my lip to keep from giggling like a besotted schoolgirl.

  It had all been a little terrifying. And incredibly thrilling.

  Who knew I could be such a ballbuster?

  It was too bad he was strictly off-limits because that man was hot.

  Like send out the fire trucks because we’ve got a scorcher kind of hot. And it wasn’t the typical gym-rat hot I was used to, growing up on the beaches of Waikiki. No, his toned physique was thanks to years of hard labor, and it showed.

  Yes, it was a damn shame he was on the opposite side of the line that seemed to have been created by the townspeople.

  “So, it wasn’t the welcome you were hoping for, huh?” Piper asked as I stood by the window of my beautifully decorated room.

  It was sort of a shabby chic with buttery-yellow walls and a soft quilt adorning the bed. It made me feel at home even though I knew I was anything but.

  “No, not exactly. But it’s just a minor hitch in the road.”

  “You call the entire town bickering about you behind your back a minor hitch?”

  I shrugged, taking in the picturesque view of the bay. “They can voice their opinions, but what I do to my property is really my choice, isn’t it?”

  “I guess, but don’t you care about what they think at all? It is, after all, their town.”

  I let out a solid breath. “Of course I care; I’m not made of stone.”

  “Okay, good. Just checking to make sure you didn’t change completely since I last saw you. I’ve just been a little concerned, you know, since you basically committed a felony to get this gig.”

  I shook my head. “Hacking into the company system—my company, by the way—is hardly a felony.”

  “Let’s see how your dad feels about it.”

  My stomach did that little flip-flop thing that it tended to do whenever I’d done something wrong. Like when I’d cheated on my spelling test back in second grade by glancing at Sarah Smith’s paper for the correct spelling of the word pineapple. Afterward, I could never look at that particular fruit without feeling a little guilty.

  “How long do you think I have?” I asked. “Until shit hits the fan?”

  “I don’t know, Lani,” she said, a note of hesitation in her voice. “But you’d better be ready when it does.”

  I let out a deep breath before entering the kitchen. “You can do this, Lani. You are a strong, independent businesswoman. And, besides, it’s just breakfast. There’s nothing scary about breakfast.”

  I shook my head, hoping no one inside heard me.

  Smoothing out my skirt, I took the all-important first step and headed into the inn’s kitchen for their world-famous breakfast, expecting to be treated like the piranha everyone thought I was.

  Instead, I was welcomed with open arms.

  “You must be Leilani!” a happy, very attractive blonde woman greeted me the second I stepped into the bright space. “I’m Molly. I believe we spoke on the phone.”

  “Um, yes,” I said, mirroring her movements as I reached out to shake her hand.

  “It’s so nice to meet you. Did you sleep okay? The yellow room is one of my favorites. It has such a wonderful view of the bay. Of course, your place has some great views as well, doesn’t it?”

  “Um, yes.” It was all I could manage to get out because I was completely bewildered by this woman.

  Her words seemed genuine and sincere as she offered me a cup of coffee without even asking, chatting with me like we’d been friends for years.

  “Now, today is scone day. Do you like scones? If you don’t, I can whip up something else for you. I know you West Coasters often like to eat a bit healthier than we do.”

  “Scones?” I looked to the table, and sure enough, there was a pile of pastries. The second my eyes landed on them, my stomach growled in agreement. “Scones sound great.”

  “Well, excellent! I won’t keep you,” she said, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. “I know you probably have a million things to do today. But, if you ever need an extra hand or just a friend to talk to in town, you know where to find me.”

  Again, every word she spoke felt totally sincere, and I was left speechless.

  “Thank you,” I answered, my brows furrowing, before I found my words, “But can I ask you something real quick?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me? I heard the chatter coming into town yesterday. I know my presence here isn’t well received, and with you being an innkeeper—”

  She pressed her lips together, a knowing smile showing through. “Don’t let the gossip drag you down. People talk, but they don’t bite around here. Having been the fuel for several gossip wildfires in this town, I’ve learned to just ignore it mostly. They’ll get used to you, believe me. And, as for being an innkeeper”—she simply shrugged—“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, but I have a good feeling about you. Besides, I’d rather be your friend than your enemy.”

  Her words made me want to burst into tears. Maybe the gossip had gotten to me a little more than I’d realized.

  “Thank you,” I answered. “I’d like that, too.”

  She left me to my scones, and as I sat there at the long farmhouse table, nibbling on my breakfast and sipping coffee, I wondered, Is this what my father’s life is like? Gossip mills and emotions all over the place?

  Because I seriously doubted it.

  What exactly had I gotten myself into with this town?

  With my belly full of homemade scones and a second cup of freshly brewed coffee in my hand, I headed off to The Cozy Hotel with a new outlook on Ocracoke and its inhabitants, thanks to my new friend, Molly Jameson.

  Maybe we could all work in harmony.

  I mean, I didn’t envision us all sitting around, singing “Kumbaya” or anything, but perhaps, when all of this was over, I could create a place we were all proud of.

  Including my father.

  Especially my father, I stressed.

  With a pep in my step, I headed out into the town, ready to conquer the world.

  Unfortunately, my journey took me straight to Taylor Sutherland, and then I almost died.

  Literally.

  The sight of him, shirtless, as he hosed down one of his boats in the marina nearly caused me to stumble into oncoming traffic. The water streaming from the hose seemed to catch the early morning light perfectly, creating a spotlight on his flawlessly chiseled abs.

  “Dear God in heaven,” I mumbled as I tried not to stare.

  I tried and failed miserably.

  Did I mention the damn halo around him?

  It was then I noticed just how close The Cozy Hotel was to Sutherland Fishing Company. We were literally next-door neighbors. I guess I noticed the proximity yesterday when walking the property, but that was before—before I met the overbearing, super hot owner who nearly caused my death a few minutes earlier with his abs.

  This was going to be all sorts of awkward, wasn’t it?

  All the more reason to scurry along before he noticed me staring.

  Of course, he chose that moment to look up, and like a tractor beam, our eyes met. The heated intensity that had existed between us ignited once more, and I felt something stir deep inside my belly.

  Look away, Lani. Look away.

  I swallowed deeply and jutted my chin forward, forcing my feet to do the same. I could feel his eyes on me the entire rest of the way to the hotel.

  It felt like a small victory the moment my hand touched the door handle.

  I’d done it again.

  I’d conquered Taylor Sutherland.

  It felt like a win for all womankind.

  Until I pulled out the key and couldn’t get the damn door to unlock. I jiggled the thing, twisted
it ten different ways, and even briefly considered using a Harry Potter spell to spring the damn thing loose, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not get it to open.

  “Need a hand?”

  It didn’t take a genius to recognize the deep, masculine voice behind me.

  This is why I should have checked out the inside of the hotel yesterday, instead of sticking my nose in the stupid fishing company next door. But, I’d taken one look inside that window and I’d been like a moth to a flame—unable to stop myself.

  I’d told myself I was going to check out the neighborhood, a friendly walk to see what businesses were nearby. But that was a total lie. I’d made a beeline into that fishing company like a parched man looking for water in the dessert when I saw Taylor standing just inside.

  And look where it’d gotten me.

  Here I was, wiggling a key in a lock, with a half naked wet man behind me and all I could think about was jumping his bones.

  Feeling my little win fall firmly to my feet, I let out a huff of air from my lungs as I tried to gather my composure. Turning on my heels, I found myself face-to-face with a very wet and shirtless Taylor Sutherland.

  Damn, he was even sexier close up.

  I wondered if I could just lean forward and lick that tiny little droplet of water before it fell down his chest…

  “So, do you? Need a hand, I mean?” he asked, clearly amused with my delayed response.

  “No, I’ve got everything handled. I am a professional, remember?” I answered, folding my arms across my chest.

  In doing so, my skin made just the briefest contact with his, brushing across the tight planes of his stomach, which only made that wicked smile plastered across his face grow even wider.

  “No? Okay. Well then, you won’t mind if I hang out while you handle everything? ’Cause I’d really love to see how a professional does it, seeing as I’m just a nobody from the sticks.”

  I let out another huff of frustration, the air vacating my lungs in one fluid motion. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Really?” he said, taking a step back to lean his wide body against one of the many weathered columns that adorned the front entrance of the shabby hotel—an eyesore I planned on rectifying quickly. “Because it sounded like you were implying that I—a prominent business owner in this town—had no clue what I was doing.”

  “It’s not—no. Would you just let me do my thing?” I asked, resisting the urge to stomp my foot.

  This man frustrated me like no other.

  He also set my loins on fire.

  I wasn’t even sure I had been aware I had loins up until I walked into that office yesterday afternoon to check out the businesses surrounding the hotel. But, now that I was aware of their presence in my world, they were raging—wild and hot and uncontrolled for the man standing in front of me.

  And I had no idea where the off switch was.

  “By all means,” he said, raising his eyebrow as his eyes met mine, “go do your thing.”

  My stomach flip-flopped again, and before I did anything stupid, like step forward and try to catch one of those lucky droplets of water slowly cascading down his sculpted chest, I forced myself to turn back toward the door.

  And away from Taylor Sutherland.

  I thought he’d walk away, that our conversation had come to an end, but as I began to fiddle with the door again, I heard his distinct voice sound off behind me once more.

  “These columns are still nice and stable,” he said. “Structurally, I mean. They could use some patching and fresh paint, but I doubt they need anything more.”

  His words seemed genuine, and the sincere tone was almost jarring compared to the sarcastic, brooding man I’d met just a day earlier.

  “Actually, I’m thinking of having them completely removed, along with much of the original structure.”

  I could feel the air change the moment the last word left my lips. Like Thor gathering energy from the sky to power his hammer, that was how it felt, waiting for a reply from Taylor. If I could take it back, I would. I’d told him myself, just last night, that these things needed to go through the proper channels, and here I was, dropping bombs like they were nothing, onto ordinary townsfolk.

  I let out a breath.

  Don’t lie to yourself. There is nothing ordinary about Taylor.

  Turning around, I prepared myself for the onslaught of his wrath, the anger, and the speech that was sure to follow.

  But nothing could have prepared me for what I found.

  “You really are going to destroy this town, aren’t you?” he said, his words soft and defeated.

  “What?”

  “This building,” he began. “I know it doesn’t look like much with its run-down interior and outdated architecture, but it’s a part of us, and you’d know that if you spent even a moment getting to know the people who lived here. Like Terri, who lives next door to the town doctor. She spent her wedding night here. And, every year after, she and her husband come to this shabby hotel to celebrate.”

  “There will still be a place for them to do that,” I urged, feeling uncomfortable by the raw look of desperation written across his face.

  “But it won’t be ours anymore. Don’t you see?”

  “It’s never been yours,” I argued, my arms firmly crossing over my chest as I looked up at the worn and weathered column. “It’s a hotel. It’s for the visitors.”

  He shook his head, his eyes briefly closing as he turned away. “Spoken like a woman who grew up in a hotel.”

  My chin jutted out as I swallowed down a whole lifetime of pain. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, heiress,” he said, “that you wouldn’t know the first thing about the meaning of home, seeing as you’ve never had one.”

  Now, it was my turn to look away, mostly because he was right.

  A hotel was no place to call a home.

  But inside that big skyscraper, up at the very top floor, I’d had one for a brief time. But, now, all I had was one negligent father, a crappy hotel, and an extremely hot townie standing in my way.

  “Who owns this hotel, Mr. Sutherland?” I asked, standing a bit straighter.

  His nostrils flared almost instantly, but he refused to acknowledge my words, pushing off the column to rise to his full height.

  Damn, he was tall.

  But, this time, I wasn’t intimidated.

  “I’ll ask one more time, and then I’m going to ask you to get off my property. Who owns this hotel?”

  “I’m not going to let you get away with—”

  “Taylor!”

  We both turned to see a man standing on the docks of the marina, outside the Sutherland office. He mirrored Taylor in almost every way, and the way he was eyeing him, I was guessing there was a family relation there.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled.

  “Oh no, is someone in trouble?” I feigned concern as he gave me a look of disdain.

  “This isn’t over,” he promised.

  Oh, I hope it isn’t, I replied silently to myself, hating myself for even thinking it.

  But, as much as I hated to admit it, I liked warring with Taylor Sutherland.

  I liked it a little too much.

  It took a bit of effort, but I finally managed to get through the door and into The Cozy Hotel for the first time.

  Holy shit, what a dump.

  That was my first thought as I took my grand tour.

  What had my dad been thinking?

  What was I thinking?

  It was small, much smaller than any of our other properties, only serving about twenty rooms, tops. And, with a barely functioning kitchen, the most we could offer in its current state would be a light breakfast.

  But, as I stood in one of the rooms, trying to avoid the horribly thin, wacky-patterned bedspreads or the Formica countertops in the bathrooms, I couldn’t help but be awestruck by the view. Each room was like this, equipped with its own balcony and water view of the bay.
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  And what a view it was, going on for miles in every direction.

  This was the reason my father had bought it.

  Probably the only reason really.

  I could already picture guests sitting out here, drinking a glass of wine while the day drifted by.

  So serene and peaceful.

  It was exactly the theme I was going for. The ultimate hideaway.

  I mean, wasn’t that kind of what Ocracoke was? A little hidden gem off the coast of North Carolina. Now, it would be a hidden oasis where people could come to relax and unwind.

  I was so filled with ideas, with images of crisp white linens and chic spa decor filling my brain, that I was nearly giddy.

  Until my phone began buzzing, and my father’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Shit. Reckoning day is upon me,” I grumbled, deciding I needed to be seated for this particular conversation. Not trusting the scary looking bedspread or the stained oversized chair in the corner, I decided the only relatively safe and clean spot in the room was outside on the balcony.

  At least I’d have a nice view while my father tore into me for my behavior.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I answered, placing my phone on speaker in hopes that perhaps the soothing sound of the bay would calm his uptight nature. It was a long shot, but I was willing to take whatever small chances I could.

  “Where are you?” he asked, getting straight to business.

  My father wasn’t known for warm and fuzzies. It was why he was able to turn an adorable chain of Hawaiian hotels into an international conglomerate that was worth billions.

  “On a balcony, overlooking the water,” I answered innocently as I took a seat in one of the plastic chairs. Plastic? Seriously? At least they were clean. “Can’t you hear it?”

  “Leilani,” he said, a distinct warning in his tone.

  “North Carolina,” I sighed.

  “When this was brought to my attention today, I hoped it was a mistake. I hoped that my own daughter wouldn’t have done such a thing. Please tell me you have a reason for this, that there is some logical explanation for this.”