The Inn at Eagle Point

by Sherryl Woods

  “Are you behind this?” she demanded, tossing a handful of credit card pieces at Abby.

  Abby regarded her blankly even as she gathered up the bits of plastic. Whoever had cut it up had been thorough. “What happened?” she asked, keeping her voice calm if only to counter Jess’s near-hysteria.

  “What does it look like?” Jess said, pacing back and forth in front of her. Steam was practically rising all around her. “My credit card was rejected when I went to buy more paint. Not only was it turned down, but it was cut up right in front of my eyes with a whole line of people watching. I’ve never been more humiliated in my entire life. I swear if you’re behind this, I’m never speaking to you again.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Abby told her. “I’ve had zero contact with any of your credit card companies.”

  “You swear it?”

  “Of course I swear it,” Abby said, bristling. “When have I ever lied to you?”

  Jess’s expression turned apologetic. “Sorry. It was just so awful and I couldn’t imagine how else it could have happened. And of course, the store won’t tell you anything.”

  “Have you called your credit card company?”

  “Not yet.”

  “So rather than going to the people who could actually tell you what’s going on, you came right over here to yell at me?” Abby asked, exasperated.

  Jess winced. “Something like that. I’ll call them as soon as I get back to the inn.”

  “Did you get your paint?”

  “No, I left it there. I was too embarrassed to try a different credit card. I was afraid they’d all been cut off.”

  “You told me the other day you hadn’t maxed any of them out,” Abby reminded her.

  “I haven’t,” Jess assured her.

  “And you’ve been paying the bills on time?”

  “Sure,” Jess said at once, then frowned. “At least I think so. You know how busy I’ve been.”

  Abby groaned. She also knew how easily distracted Jess could be when it came to things she wasn’t interested in doing, like paying bills. This was the ADD effect. Though Jess’s case had improved some with age, her ability to focus was still unpredictable at best. Since she mostly functioned at an acceptable level, her doctors had never recommended that she take medication, at least not as far as Abby knew. It would be just like Jess, though, to refuse to take pills of any kind.

  “I’ll drive over later and we’ll go through all the papers that have piled up on your desk, see if maybe some bills got overlooked,” Abby told her. “I’m sure we can straighten this out.”

  Jess sighed and sank down onto the chair beside her. “I just keep messing up. How can you stand to keep bailing me out?”

  The truth was that Abby didn’t know if she could do it for the long haul, not without losing her patience entirely. What she needed to focus on were her sister’s skills, not her flaws, then figure out a way to compensate for the things Jess was least likely to remember on her own. Hiring a bookkeeper was the most obvious solution, but there was no room in the budget for that, at least not yet. The bookkeeping job was evidently going to fall to her.

  “What have you been doing today?” Jess asked, grabbing Abby’s glass of tea and finishing it off.

  “Trying to keep the twins from going stir-crazy and taking Gram and me with them, having lunch and then a fight with Trace.”

  “That’s quite a day,” Jess said, regarding her with concern. “You okay?”

  “Let’s just say I’d rather match wits with the bears and bulls on Wall Street. It’s less stressful.”

  “But everything’s okay with the loan, right?” Jess asked worriedly, her concern over Abby quickly taking a backseat to her own issues. “The bank agreed to your plan?”

  Abby nodded. “As long as I’m in charge.”

  “I’m really sorry I dragged you into this,” Jess said. “If it helps, you’ll have my undying devotion.”

  “I don’t need your undying devotion,” Abby told her. “What I need is for you to make a real effort to help me get things back on track. Will you do that?”

  “I will. I promise,” Jess said. “You tell me what to do and it’s done.”

  Though Jess’s response was heartfelt and convincing, Abby couldn’t help wondering how long her commitment would last when she bumped up against financial reality for the first time. Her reaction to having her credit card destroyed did not bode well.

  7

  I t was just after four when Trace left the bank to meet Susie O’Brien, Abby’s cousin. A year younger than Jess, Susie worked for O’Brien Management, which handled leases for some of the small apartments that had been built above the businesses along Main Street.

  When Mick and his brothers had been designing Chesapeake Shores, they’d thought these residences would add to the charm and liveliness of downtown. A few business owners had bought the upstairs units for themselves. The rest were rented, mostly to singles and young couples who wanted to be at the beach but either couldn’t afford the larger properties in town or liked the urban feel of living in the heart of even such a small downtown where they could easily walk to restaurants, shops and the beach.

  Susie had the obvious O’Brien genes, though she wasn’t the beauty that Abby and her sisters were. Her hair was bright red, her cheeks slightly freckled, but she had the family’s trademark blue eyes, long legs and winning smile. She also tended to exaggerate her Southern roots, affecting a drawl that few natives of the area possessed.

  “Trace Riley, you surely are a sight for sore eyes,” she told him enthusiastically, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I could hardly believe it when our receptionist told me you’d called. It’s about time you decided to move home.”

  “I’m not moving here permanently,” he told her. “I’m just looking for a short-term rental.”

  “That’s what Pat said, but I figured you just wanted something to tide you over until you could build a house or until something else opened up.”

  “No, this is it. I’m here for six months, then I’ll be going back to New York.”

  “Well, that’s just a downright shame,” she said. “But I do have a few things I can show you. Shall we start right here? There’s a two-bedroom above Ethel’s Emporium. It’s probably the largest and because it’s way down at the end of the street it has a view of the water, if that matters to you.”

  “Let’s take a look,” Trace said, already striding in that direction, eager to get this settled. He cared a lot less about size and location than he did lighting. He needed plenty of windows for the kind of work he did.

  Susie had no difficulty keeping up with his pace. He recalled that she’d run track in high school and had obviously kept up with her running. A block before Main ended, she turned right and went to the alleyway that ran behind the building. “You know the entrances are back here, right? And there’s space for one car to park. I’m afraid visitors will have to find parking on the street or along the waterfront, which can be tricky on weekends.”

  “No problem,” he told her. “I’m not expecting a lot of company.”

  “Well, then, let’s go up and take a look.” She bounded up the enclosed staircase and unlocked the door, then stood aside to let him enter. “You just take your time looking around,” she said. “I’ll wait on a bench by the water, if that’s okay. I’ve been racing around since early this morning. I can use the break, and most people like to get the
feel of a place on their own without me babbling on about the obvious.”

  “Fine with me,” he said, already focusing on the apartment.

  The rooms weren’t large and the furnishings were comfortable, but uninteresting, a mix of styles that offended his artist’s eye, but would certainly do for the length of time he planned to be in town. The master bedroom was at the back and had lousy lighting, but he didn’t much care about that, either. It was the second bedroom, the one he’d likely use as his studio, that mattered.

  When he walked into that spacious room, a slow smile spread across his face. Sure, with the wide expanse of windows open there would be noise from the street, which was obviously why it hadn’t been chosen to be the master bedroom, but light flooded through the windows along two walls. There was a spectacular view of the bay to the east and an overview of the town square to the north. It would be ideal for his design work. In fact, the whole apartment was perfect for his needs, and it was easy walking distance to the bank.

  Sold at once, he locked up and went in search of Susie. “Draw up the lease,” he said when he found her feeding bread to a flock of eager seagulls.

  “You like it,” she said, sounding surprised. “I thought you’d be put off by the decor. It’s only a slight step up from early thrift shop, but Mrs. Finch refuses to upgrade anything. She said the things from her attic would do for people just passing through.”

  Trace grinned. He could hear the elderly widow saying exactly that. “I’m surprised she doesn’t have vases of silk lilacs all over the place, given the way she loves them. I suppose I should be grateful for that.”

  “You didn’t notice that the air in there smells of lilacs?” Susie asked. “Whenever it’s vacant, she comes over herself once a week to dust. She never leaves without spraying a lilac scent around every room.”

  “As long as she doesn’t do it again until I’ve moved out, I’ll be fine,” he said, shuddering at the thought of the widow spritzing his apartment with her favorite fragrance.

  “Oh no, she would never intrude on a tenant,” Susie assured him. “So, this is it? You’re sure? You don’t want to see the other places?”

  “This is it,” he told her.

  “Okay then, I’ll have the papers ready for you to sign in the morning. Just stop by the management office. Maybe you’ll run into my dad. I know he’d love to see you.”

  Trace knew there was little love lost between Jeff O’Brien and Mick, but he’d always found Jeff to be more approachable. And after his encounter with Mick earlier, it might be nice to see a friendly O’Brien male. “I’ll look forward to it,” he told Susie.

  Now he just had to go home and tell his mother he was moving out. He had a feeling she was going to be a whole lot less understanding about it than his father had been.

  Mick wandered into his den and found Abby behind his desk, her laptop set up, her cell phone at her ear and CNBC with its stock market ticker running silently on the big-screen TV across the room. It was a side of her he’d never seen in action. To him, she was still his firstborn, the little girl who’d run to welcome him home every single night dragging a battered Raggedy Ann doll that Gram had made for her.

  “Yes, yes. Got it,” she murmured, while tapping at the computer keys. “No problem, Jack, I’ll handle it right away. I agree we’re overloaded with financials. Let me take a look at which ones we should dump and I’ll find a few recommendations in the tech sector for you to consider. I’ll get back to you within the hour.”

  When she’d disconnected the call, Mick grinned at her. “I should have guessed way back when you were eight and insisted on buying a Certificate of Deposit, instead of opening a savings account, that you’d grow up to become some sort of financial tycoon.”

  “I’m hardly a tycoon,” she protested, but she was smiling as she said it, clearly at least a little pleased by his assessment.

  “How much money were you talking about just now?” Mick persisted.

  “Half a million, give or take, if we do this trade, but it’s not my money. When it comes to my own bank balance, I’m not in the tycoon category.”

  “But you do okay for yourself, that’s obvious.”

  “I suppose I do. What matters to me is that I love it. There’s a huge amount of pressure knowing that I’m dealing with other people’s money, their life savings, their retirement accounts, but on a good day, it feels great to know that I’m actually helping some people amass a personal fortune.” She shrugged ruefully. “Of course, on a bad day, let’s just say I should buy stock in antacids.”

  “You’ve been at it a while now, so you’re obviously good at it.”

  “My bosses seem to think so,” she said modestly.

  Mick studied her thoughtfully. “I have some investments that aren’t performing so well. Want to take over?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said at once.

  He frowned at the quick response. “Why not?”

  “Because the first time anything took a dip, you’d blame me. I think it’s better if we keep your money out of our relationship.”

  “But what’s the good of having an investment guru in the family if you can’t turn your money over to her?”

  She seemed startled, but once again his comment appeared to have struck a positive chord with her. “You’d really trust me with your investments?”

  Mick was surprised by the hint of vulnerability he heard in her voice. Had he been so lousy at communicating that even his confident Abby didn’t realize how proud he was of her?

  “Of course I trust you,” he said emphatically.

  Still, she hesitated, still looking vaguely uneasy. “How about this? Why don’t you leave your statements with me. I’ll take a look and then we can discuss some ideas, but you’ll make the final decisions.”

  “If I’m going to be paying for your advice, then I ought to take it, right? I don’t need to sign off on every transaction.”

  “I’d rather you would,” she countered. “At least at first. Then we’ll see how it goes.”

  “Okay,” he said. “That’ll work. I’ll dig out the most recent statements this afternoon, and we can go over them before I take off.”

  She regarded him with obvious dismay. “You’re leaving?”

  “I’ve already stayed longer than I’d planned to,” he said, unable to keep a defensive note out of his voice. “I need to be back in San Francisco for a meeting tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Does Jess know?”

  So that was it, he thought. She was worried about her sister’s reaction, rather than being disappointed for herself. Had she always put other people’s needs and feelings ahead of her own? Or was that something she’d taken on after Megan left? Granted, she’d been seventeen when her mother moved out, almost an adult, but she shouldn’t have had to take on adult responsibilities for all her siblings. Mick suddenly felt incredibly guilty for his own role in costing her the last carefree days of high school.

  Rather than getting into that, though, he merely responded to her question. “I haven’t mentioned it to Jess yet. Why? She’ll probably be glad to have me out of her hair.”

  Abby shook her head. “You are so clueless about her, Dad. Haven’t you seen how pleased she’s been to have you hanging around over at the inn?”

  “The only thing she’s let me do was to trim that rhododendron.”

  “That’s the point. It was just about getting to spend time with you. Jess doesn’t need you doing anything or telling her what to do. When was
the last time the two of you just hung out together?”

  Mick thought about that. “Never,” he said, vaguely embarrassed by the admission.

  “I rest my case,” Abby said. “You used to go fishing with Connor and Kevin. Bree always liked to help when you were landscaping the new houses. And when I was little, you used to ride me around on your shoulders while you supervised the construction sites. I even had my own little hard hat, remember? Mom found it somewhere. It was bright pink, which looked awful with my red hair, but I loved it.”

  Mick smiled at the memory. “I’d forgotten all about that. You were treated like quite the little princess. Half the crew carried around candy for you.”

  She laughed. “Why did you think I begged to go?”

  “So in your own diplomatic way, you’re telling me that Jess got shortchanged because I was gone so much.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And I know Gram’s told you the same thing, so don’t act as if it’s a surprise. Having you here these past couple of days has meant so much to Jess. Just the fact that you came all the way from California because there was a crisis really proved something to her. It showed her you do care.”

  “Well, of course I care. I’d do the same for any of you,” Mick said.

  “I think the rest of us have probably always known that. Jess hasn’t.”

  He bit back a sigh at just how complicated it was figuring out what to do with kids once they were grown, especially daughters, who seemed to be more sensitive to every nuance. His relationships with Kevin and Connor certainly weren’t this complicated.

  “She’s not going to think I’ve abandoned her again because I have to go back, is she?” he asked worriedly.

  “Why don’t you ask her that?” Abby suggested. “Just talk to her, okay? Will you do that?”

  Mick stood up. “On my way,” he said, then glanced back. “You and me, we’re okay?”