The Inn at Eagle Point

by Sherryl Woods

  Trace cast a glance toward Susie’s retreating back and sighed. “You know about the house.”

  “I do.”

  “You always loved that house,” he reminded her.

  “I did, but it doesn’t mean you should go out and make a purchase like that without even talking to me. I thought we were trying to work things out, taking one day at a time.”

  “We are.”

  “So you bought a house here to shift the odds that I’d agree to stay in Chesapeake Shores?”

  “I bought a house because I knew you loved it,” he corrected. “If, when all is said and done, you want to go to New York, we’ll go, but at least we’d always have our own place here for weekends or vacations.”

  She didn’t entirely believe that’s what he wanted. “But you want to live here.” She knew it sounded like an accusation, rather than a question.

  He shrugged, then nodded. “I do, but I meant every word I said. I’m going where you go. I love you, and I’m not about to lose you again over something as ridiculous as which city you like. I can work anywhere. New York even has some benefits for me. Most of my contacts are there.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Want to get down off that high horse now and kiss me like you mean it? I’ve just been to war with your ex-husband. I think I deserve a warmer welcome than the one I just got.”

  Abby wasn’t quite ready to let the issue go, but she did kiss him. As heat swirled through her, it seemed less and less important to insist on getting her own way. Compromise was good. She’d have to think about that.

  Meantime, though, she met his gaze. “You’re back sooner than you expected to be. What happened with Wes?”

  “I decided not to wait for morning. I had a little chat with Wes and Gabrielle tonight. Bottom line, he’s going to see that the order is withdrawn.”

  Abby could envision her ex saying whatever Trace wanted to hear just to get rid of him. “You believe him?”

  “I do. All he really wanted was to be sure I wouldn’t convince you and the girls to stay here and keep them from him.”

  “He wasn’t far off the mark about your plan to keep me here, was he?”

  “No, but those girls are his daughters. No matter how we settle things between us about where to live, he’ll be in their lives. I’ll repeat that as many times as I have to, though he’s not going to believe it until he’s tested me a few hundred times, more than likely.”

  “What made you realize that’s what he wanted to be sure about?”

  “I knew how I’d feel in his shoes,” he said simply. “I may not be their dad, but I love those little girls with all my heart already.”

  Abby smiled at the sincerity in his voice. She looked up and studied his expression. “Do you really, really think we can make it work this time?”

  “I know I love you more than anything. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy.”

  Abby drew in a steadying breath. “I love you, too.” It was the first time she’d risked saying the words aloud, even though she’d known in her heart for weeks now.

  Trace grinned. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “What?”

  “Putting your heart on the line.”

  “If you must know, it was scary as hell.”

  Trace frowned at that. “Not with me, Abby. It should never be scary with me.”

  But it was. Not because she didn’t trust his love for her. It was just that he held the power to turn her whole life—the life she’d fought so hard to claim in the heart of the business world—upside down.

  The whole family was sitting around the kitchen table at the house, even Megan. Though she looked a bit ill at ease being there, Mick had insisted she join them for the early-morning breakfast. It was just 7:00 a.m., planned for the early hour because Connor had to get on the road back to Baltimore for work at the law office where he was clerking for the summer. Abby and Jess had a thousand things to do before the first guests started arriving at the inn that afternoon. It was the start of the long Fourth of July holiday, and they were booked solid. In fact, they’d had to turn away several people.

  “I should leave and go back to New York,” Megan said at once when she heard that. “I’m in your biggest room.”

  “Mom, I reserved that for you,” Abby assured her. “I’m paying. We’re not losing money on it.”

  Jess’s gaze darted up at that. “You’re planning to pay for the room?”

  Abby nodded. “Of course.”

  Jess shook her head. “No, you’re not. We’re talking about family. Family is not paying to stay at my inn.”

  Though it wasn’t entirely clear whether she was more concerned about Abby’s checkbook or her mother’s feelings, her remarks brought tears to Megan’s eyes. She reached for Jess’s hand, but Jess withdrew it from the table before her mother could clasp it. The fragile moment died.

  Mick stepped in to save the tenuous peace. “I think you should put your mother and me to work today. Let us help out.”

  Jess gave him a quizzical look. “Doing what? Carrying bags?”

  “I can do that, if it’s what you need. And your mother could help Gail in the kitchen. She’s quite a cook.”

  Jess looked thoroughly bewildered by the offer. “Why would either of you do that?”

  Mick leveled a look into her eyes. “We’re talking about family,” he said, tossing her words right back at her. “Family does whatever it can to help out on a big day for any one of our own. For one reason or another, your mother and I have missed out on way too many big moments in your lives.” He included Abby, Bree and Connor in the comment. “Let us start trying to make up for that.”

  “I’ve already offered to help Gail with some baking today,” Gram chimed in.

  “You have?” Jess said, astounded. “I had no idea.”

  “You can tell her I’ll be bringing a batch of my carrot-cake cupcakes over around three o’clock, so they’ll be there if the guests want tea and a snack after they check in.”

  Abby listened to the exchange with a sense of satisfaction. Surely now Jess would have no doubts about her place in this family. Only Connor, who was leaving in an hour, and Bree, who’d been unusually quiet even for her, hadn’t chimed in with an offer to pitch in today. It was Bree who worried her, but she couldn’t sit her sister down and try yet again to figure out what was going on until after the inn was operating smoothly. Maybe by tonight she’d have a few minutes to spare to see why Bree looked so lost.

  They were all about to leave the table and head off to handle their respective assignments when Abby’s cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she saw it was her boss. She realized it had been days since she’d spoken to Jack, even though she’d sent in daily e-mails to update him on her accounts and on the situation with Wes that he’d helped her to resolve.

  She excused herself and walked outside to take the call.

  “How was the party?” he asked at once.

  “A huge success. Today the first guests arrive.”

  “And then you’ll be back with us full-time?”

  “Very soon,” she said. “Why? Are people up there rumbling about my being away so long?”

  “No, the opposite, in fact. Something’s come up out of town and they’re wondering if you might not be the perfect person to handle it.”

  Abby waited for the familiar stirring of excitement at the prospect of a brand-new challenge, but it didn’t com
e. The out-of-town part was worrisome. She was actually hesitant as she asked him to explain.

  “I know you love working here in the city,” he began. “But recently I’ve started getting the feeling that maybe you’re conflicted about your responsibilities here and your family down there.”

  Abby’s heart seemed to stall in her chest. “Are you firing me?”

  “Heavens, no,” he said at once. “Far from it. The Baltimore office needs fresh leadership. It can’t be much more than an hour or so away from Chesapeake Shores, right?”

  “On a good day,” Abby said wryly, thinking of the traffic jams she’d encountered on that route on recent trips.

  “Well, we think you’d be perfect for the job. You have the organizational skills and the portfolio skills to turn that office into one of the most profitable in the company. It’s been lagging behind in terms of the client portfolios down there. We’ve been losing clients, who see their friends making better profits with other brokerages. You could change that and be close to your family. We’d still want you to be in New York on a regular basis, at least once a month to consult with us, but this whole operation would be yours, Abby.”

  She heard the enthusiasm in his voice, but she couldn’t get past her fear that the company wanted her out of the way. “Why do I feel as if I’m being put out to pasture? Is this a punishment because of that whole situation with Gabrielle?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s an amazing opportunity for you and, to be honest, for the company to turn around a bad situation.”

  Abby tried to see it from his perspective, but she couldn’t deny the sense that he was painting a rosy picture to make it easier for her to swallow what amounted to a bitter pill. In her business, New York was the place to be, the heart of the financial world. Baltimore was…nowhere.

  She swallowed hard. “Do I have a choice about this?”

  “Of course.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “You work for me. It’s my call, so, yes, I’m sure. You say the word and you stay right here.”

  That made it easier, she thought with relief. “Can I think it over?”

  “Call me the first of the week,” he suggested. “How’s that?”

  “First thing Monday morning,” she promised. Maybe by then she could wrap her mind around the implications of this so-called “opportunity” for herself and maybe even for her future with Trace.

  By Monday, though, Abby was no closer to a decision than she had been when Jack had first called. She needed to go to Baltimore, to get a firsthand look at the situation she’d be walking into. It was the only way to decide if it was a challenge she’d enjoy or if she’d come to resent being trapped in a dead-end position.

  With Bree promising to keep an eye on the girls and Jess proving herself to be more than capable of handling the day-to-day operation at the inn, Abby got into her rental car and drove to Baltimore. When she reached the firm’s offices, she sat across the street staring at the building. Instead of the skyscraper she was used to, the offices here were in a four-story, historical building with some charm, but little to distinguish it from other similar buildings around it. That alone gave her pause. Something about walking into the marble-floored lobby of a soaring building had always made her think big, made her feel as if she were part of something magnificent.

  Inside the building, which also housed a law firm, an insurance agency and doctors’ offices, she made her way to the fourth floor. The elevator opened onto plush, navy-blue carpeting and a massive reception desk. The immediate impression was of wealth and class. She was somewhat reassured by that.

  The receptionist looked up at once. “You must be Mrs. Winters. Go right in. Mr. Wallace is waiting for you. It’s the big office in the corner on the left.” She grinned. “Best view in the place. You can see the harbor.”

  The impression created by the lobby extended to the back, where offices were private and decorated simply but elegantly. When she tapped on Mitch Wallace’s door, she almost missed seeing him because of the stunning view behind him. Working boats and yachts dotted the blue water. He grinned at her apparently awestruck expression.

  “Worth the price of admission, isn’t it?” he said, shaking her hand, then gesturing toward a chair. “I swear it’s the only reason I took this job thirty years ago. I’m going to hate saying goodbye to this view.”

  “You’re retiring?”

  “End of the month,” he confirmed. “You going to take my place?”

  “I’m still undecided,” she admitted. “Tell me about the office. I hear it’s been underperforming.”

  He nodded, clearly not offended by the characterization. “It has been. I came in here as a proven manager, not an analyst. I’ve got a lot of young men and women working for me who are eager and ambitious, but they all want to be in New York. Most of them can’t see that the best way to get there is by proving themselves here with what they refer to as nickel-and-dime trades. From everything I hear about you from the folks in New York, you could take their skills to the next level.”

  “You’re saying what this job needs is a teacher,” she said, frowning. Did she really want to train a bunch of younger people so they could head for New York and replace her? The thought made her even more unsure whether this was the right place for her.

  Just then a man who looked to be no more than marble-floored or twenty-six poked his head in. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, acknowledging Abby with a nod. “Mitch, I have Harry Fleming on the line. He’s determined to make a trade that doesn’t make any sense to me. Can you speak to him?”

  Mitch glanced toward Abby. “Want to take a shot at it?”

  “Sure,” she said, then gestured toward the broker. “Get on the line with us, okay?”

  Looking surprised, he nodded, then picked up the second phone in the office as Abby spoke to the client. “Mr. Fleming, I’m Abby Winters. I’m here from the New York office. Maybe I can help you. Why don’t you tell me what you want to trade and why? The broker here seems to have some reservations about it.”

  “Fool kid’s still wet behind the ears,” he muttered.

  Abby noticed that said ears had just turned bright red. “I don’t know about that, sir. Most of our brokers have solid credentials. Perhaps, though, he’s not understanding what your specific goals are with this trade.”

  He mentioned the name of the company he wanted to sell. Abby winced. It was a blue-chip stock, one on which she knew they still had an enthusiastic buy recommendation. Then he told her the stock he was hoping to purchase with that money.

  “That one still has a lot of upside,” he told her confidently. “The other one’s a dinosaur.”

  Abby glanced across the room at the young broker and winked. “You certainly have a point, Mr. Fleming, but I was the corporate analyst who studied that particular stock just last week. I looked at their future prospects, their cash flow, their price-earnings ratio and I have to tell you, it’s very likely you’d be making a huge mistake. You might have some gains in the short term, because there’s a lot of attention being paid to the stock right now, but unless you keep a close eye on it and get out fast, you’ll lose as much as you make. Maybe more.”

  Her comments were greeted by silence. “You sure about that?” he asked.

  “I put a high-risk label on it myself,” she told him. “I’m sure the broker’s concern stemmed from that. We’re not recommending it right now. The decision is yours, of course, but I think your broker was just trying to prevent you from taking a loss. Now if you have some cash in your account and want to speculate with
a few shares, that’s something else entirely, but I wouldn’t trade the other stock for this one.”

  He sighed. “Let me speak to Dave again,” he said. “And thank you for setting me straight. Don’t know why he didn’t do it in the first place.”

  “I think he was trying to, sir. He’s just not as blunt as I am,” Abby suggested. “Here’s Dave now.”

  She sat back down and met Mitch Wallace’s gaze. There’d been something about that phone call that had reminded her that there were real people affected by some of the decisions she made. She’d always understood that, of course. But engrossed in her analysis of reports from dozens of different companies, sometimes she lost sight of what that human contact felt like.

  Before she could say any of that, though, Dave hung up and looked at her with real respect. “Thank you. I think he was about two minutes from pulling his whole account because I couldn’t make him see my point. It’s a good thing you were around.”

  He left the room, then, and Abby saw Mitch studying her intently.

  “See what I mean? You could make a real difference here.”

  Abby nodded slowly. Maybe she could. A part of her wanted to call New York and suggest that she take over on a trial basis, but she immediately dismissed the idea. She needed to make a commitment, to this job and these people, to Chesapeake Shores and to Trace. It was time.

  Trace had never intended to fall in love with Abby all over again. He certainly hadn’t expected to be crazy about two pint-size imps with tempers that matched their strawberry-blond hair. Well, Carrie’s did, anyway. Caitlyn was a bit more even-tempered. She must have gotten that from her father, because Abby had more fire than any woman he’d ever known.

  It was time, past time probably, to make his intentions clear. He thought they already had an understanding of sorts, but he wanted it all this time—marriage, a family, happily-ever-after—and he wanted it now. He’d intended the purchase of the house to make his point, but that had pretty much clouded the issue. He’d have to remember that surprises might be fine, but big surprises could backfire.