“I don’t know what she did, but people make mistakes sometimes. A lot of times, actually. But as you’re learning, it’s not our mistakes that define us. It’s what we do with them.”
And what had Bella done?
Left, that’s what.
But he couldn’t let her actions dictate his. Not anymore. Thanks to his family—the people who really loved him—he’d made huge strides toward reopening the inn. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough.
Or maybe, just maybe, it would.
“Thanks, Dad.” Ben pulled his dad into a man hug, thumping his back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an inn to save.”
Chapter 14
If this didn’t work, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
As soon as the maintenance man unlocked the front doors of City Hall on Monday morning, Ben barged through, marching straight for Evan’s office.
The answer to at least his immediate problems had come to him at midnight. He’d forgotten about the grant. It had been too late to text his friend, so here he was eight hours later to find out if Evan could grease some wheels and make things happen before Ben lost his chance.
City Hall was mostly empty at this hour, the smell of lemony floor wax fresh in the air. Maybe he should have waited until more workers arrived. What time did Evan get in, anyway?
Not that it mattered. He’d wait all day if he had to.
When he reached the office with the placard outside proclaiming it the community development office, Ben knocked. No one answered, so he turned and leaned back, one foot propped against the wall.
“Can I help you?” A pregnant red-headed woman who looked to be in her late thirties stood there with a ring of keys in one hand and a Java’s Village Bean coffee in the other.
He’d met Evan’s boss once before but couldn’t quite remember her name. Donna? Diana?
“Yeah, hi. I was stopping by to see Evan Walsh. I’m Ben Baker.”
“I remember you. Denise Goyer.” The woman unlocked the door and pushed, angling the doorstopper at the bottom down to prop it open. “And I’m sorry. I got a text from Evan this morning. He’s planning to be out all week.” She flicked the lights on and moved inside the cramped office, setting her purse and coffee on one of the three desks.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. I hope everything’s OK.”
Denise lowered herself into her chair, grunting slightly. “I understand that Chrissy Price doesn’t have long. He wanted to be there with her when . . .” She sighed as she fired up her computer.
“Man, I didn’t realize.” And here he was worried about his inn. He’d have to text Evan to see if there were anything he could do.
“But I’m happy to help you if I can.” Placing one hand on her rounded stomach, Denise took a sip from her coffee.
“That would be great.” Ben glanced around for a chair and finally settled on stealing Evan’s from behind his desk. He wheeled it over and plopped down. “Evan was looking into some grants for my inn. He said you guys secure them through a bunch of different sources and give them to local businesses that need help.”
“We do.” The computer screen popped on, and Denise turned to type in her credentials. “And he mentioned it to me several weeks ago. I believe he was still waiting to hear about a substantial grant that would be distributed in chunks to several businesses around town.”
“Right.” Ben fidgeted in his seat. “Would you mind checking on the status of that?”
Denise’s lips tightened with a forced smile. She probably had a million other things to do on a Monday morning.
But Ben had to fight. After all the work his family had put into helping him, how could he not? Because for the first time, instead of seeing the inn as a burden, he’d embraced it as the gift it was—a piece of his family history, a home, a beacon of stability in a life filled with uncertainty.
The community development officer clicked around on the computer for a minute or two before squinting at the screen. “Oh.” She sat back in her seat. “It appears the grant came through on Friday after Evan and I had left for the day.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She flashed a real smile this time. “And according to Evan’s dispersal plan, you’re set to receive a fourth of it.” Denise named the amount he’d receive.
His blood pumped faster. “Wow.” It was more than Evan had anticipated.
Yeah, Ben would still need to work hard to attract new customers, but for the moment, his inn was saved. He did some quick calculations in his head, figuring that he’d be able to pay back the bank as well as his mortgage and other expenses for at least six months.
“Thank you so much.”
“Happy to help. I hope you can put it to good use.” Denise did some more clicking, and a printer in the corner whirred to life. “We should be able to cut you a check by Friday.”
“Fantastic.”
“Here.” She snagged a paper off the printer and handed it to him. “All the details. And feel free to call me if you have any questions.”
With thanks, he pumped her hand and headed home in his truck. The sun streaked across the August sky, nearly blinding him with its brilliance. Ben flipped down his visor as he drove.
Things had really turned around. From flat-out failure to success.
But success had come even before this moment. Because like Dad had said last night, it wasn’t about actually saving the inn, though Ben was grateful he had a shot. Really, it was about keeping on, not giving up. About fighting and accepting help.
He pulled into the empty parking lot of the inn and turned off his truck. Climbing out, he stared at the building he called home. Later this week, he’d finish the staircase. Today, maybe he could work on getting new flooring into one of the upstairs guest rooms.
The Iridescent Inn was almost ready for guests again.
His fingers itched to pull his phone from his pocket and call Bella, tell her the good news.
Argh. Would he never be free of this hold she had over him? Even more than it had with Elena, his heart ached over the loss of her. Of what they’d had—if any of it had been real in the first place.
And he couldn’t trust that was the case.
As he strode inside, his dad’s words drifted back to him: “I don’t know what she did, but people make mistakes sometimes. A lot of times, actually. But as you’re learning, it’s not our mistakes that define us. It’s what we do with them.”
No. She’d chosen her path, and it didn’t include Ben.
He headed to his office to drop off the paper Denise had given him. When Ben opened the door, the room gave off a musty odor. Made sense. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in here.
Stepping inside, he set the paper on his desk. There, on his keyboard, a document with a bright yellow sticky note caught his eye. Ben picked it up and scanned the words written there. If you haven’t read this in-depth yet, you need to. Love, Ashley
What was his sister up to now? He peeled off the note and stared at the same document she’d been carrying around yesterday—the business plan Bella had worked up weeks ago.
Ben fell into his chair, staring at the document. He considered tossing it into the trash.
But wait. Underneath Iridescent Inn Business Plan, it said, Updated August 6.
That was last Thursday. The day she’d left.
What had she added since he’d last seen it?
Ben flipped to the first page. The mission statement, vision statement, all the stuff he and Bella had already hashed out were there. The following pages detailed the preliminary plan they’d outlined.
But then . . . whoa. There had to be at least fifteen, maybe twenty more pages here.
Laying out specific ways he could cut expenses.
Detailed low-cost marketing efforts.
Ways to use assets he already had.
Cost-effective renovations he could make to increase the quality of stay for guests without breaking his bank.
Ben raised his eyebro
ws. By giving him this, Bella had guaranteed he’d have the ammunition to bounce back and refuse her mother’s offer once and for all.
And it also meant that if Bella had been telling the truth, she was sacrificing the one thing she’d longed for—to know who her dad had been, to find his family.
Maybe she had made a mistake in lying to him. But this business plan proved that not all of it had been a lie.
That indefinable thing between them had been real. Which meant he hadn’t been a fool after all. Hadn’t been duped twice. Not really.
Because deep down, he knew exactly who Bella Moody was.
And he wasn’t ready to let her go.
So far, she’d kept herself focused on the meeting.
Mostly.
It probably helped that one of Moody Development’s vice presidents, Lincoln Chase—not Mom—was conducting the meeting in the company’s conference room. Mom sat to his right, as poised as ever, hands folded in front of her on the ten-person modern white table.
Anytime Mom looked at her Bella glanced away, deflecting the burning coal in her dark eyes. And if she could just keep her gaze on the PowerPoint slides behind Lincoln and her mother’s heads for a few more minutes, she wouldn’t have to worry about shooting eye darts back at Mom while surrounded by her fellow company executives.
“Does anyone have any questions?” Lincoln, a forty-something blond with impeccable style, adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses.
“Not a question, but I did want to update everyone on something.”
All heads—even Bella’s—turned toward Mom.
The white ruffles trailing down the front of her Burberry blouse fluttered as the air conditioner kicked on from the vent above her. “We’ve decided to move on from the Walker Beach proposal. The last property holdout could not be convinced to sell.” She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow at Bella. “I want to be honest with you. This puts the company in a bit of a precarious position.”
Bella’s cheeks burned as her coworkers followed Mom’s gaze. Most of the team knew she’d been out for several weeks trying to secure Ben’s property. And now they knew she’d failed.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she’d regret.
How could Jess ask Bella to forgive a woman who would blame her own daughter for the company’s impending bankruptcy—and in front of everyone, no less? How could Bella have thought for a second that forgiveness might be possible?
It was too much to ask.
Mom cleared her throat. “Because of this failure, we are going to be forced to move quickly on some other projects we had meant for the winter pipeline.”
The other managers began to murmur, but Mom cut them off with the wave of her hand. “I’m going to email out details by the end of business today about what I need from each of you to make this a success.”
Though her features were tight, she smiled, searching the faces of each manager—save Bella—before speaking again. “All of you are essential members of the team, and I know that together we can make Moody Development stronger than it’s ever been.”
Her mother sure could lay on the charm when she wanted to. And judging by the looks on the other executives’ faces, they believed her.
“I think we’re all done here for today unless anyone has anything to add.” When no one spoke up, she gathered the papers in front of her, shutting them in a folder. “You’re dismissed. Bella, could we please speak in my office?”
Bella rubbed the goosebumps that popped along her arms. “Of course.” How she managed to keep the words steady, she didn’t know. She stood, lightheaded, but ignored the white spots in her vision as she followed Mom.
Her mother breezed into her corner office, which overlooked a park adjacent to the business complex in a small suburb just twenty miles outside of downtown Los Angeles. Then she slid into the white midback office chair behind the desk. “Close the door behind you.”
Bella did so then approached Mom’s desk. Continuing to stand, she crossed her arms. “Yes?”
“I want to talk about what happened on Thursday.”
How could Mom sound so . . . composed? Bella’s body tensed as she wrestled with the rage and hurt threatening to leap out of her. For a moment her gaze tripped back to the park, to a pair of trees planted too close to each other. The roots had started coming up through the ground.
There wasn’t enough space, weren’t enough nutrients, for both, and one had clearly started to yield to the other. Even from several yards away, Bella could see how it listed to one side, its leaves scarcer, its bark discolored.
Averting her eyes, she choked out a reply. “OK.”
Mom propped her head against one hand, her fingertips drumming along her cheekbone. “Don’t you feel you have something to say to me?”
“I have a lot of things to say. But I’m trying not to say them, as they won’t do any good.”
“I see.” Her mother picked up a photo frame from the front of her desk—the one Bella knew contained a picture of the two of them, hugging and happy. Some relic from her childhood. Ghosts from their past.
Mom lightly stroked the edge of the black frame with her thumb. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve shown where your loyalty lies.”
“My loy—” Bella inhaled through her nose. Normally, she didn’t mind verbal sparring.
But normally, she didn’t have so much at stake.
She tried again. “Mom, I’m sorry that the company is moving toward bankruptcy. I really am. But—”
“No, Bella, it’s clear you don’t care what becomes of this company. You’ve chosen a side, and it isn’t with me.”
“Why would I choose a woman who has never chosen me?”
Oops.
The look on Mom’s face—eyes dull, mouth slack, eyebrows knit together—showed everything. Bella’s words had shocked her mother as much as they’d surprised Bella.
“Never chosen you? What is that supposed to mean?”
She really wanted to know? Fine. Bella yanked back the chair on the opposite side of the desk and plopped down. “Ever since you went back to school, you have chosen everything else before me.”
“I went back to school for you. So you’d have a better life than I did.” Mom dropped the picture back on the desk as if it had burned her palm.
“How was it better for you to be gone all the time?” Bella’s arms wrapped around her stomach. “Before, we were poor, sure, but we were happy.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Well, I was.”
“That wouldn’t have lasted. Believe me.” Something distant in Mom’s eyes signaled a life, a past, that Bella knew nothing about.
A prick of sympathy wound through her. “Maybe not.” She bit her lip. “But Mom, even if your initial motivation was me, it didn’t stay that way. In trying to give me the best life, you missed so much of my childhood. And you’re missing out on my adulthood because your company is more important than me.”
Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry.
Mom sat staring at her for several long moments. The sunlight coming in through the glass behind Mom’s head revealed smudges on the floor-to-ceiling window. “I’m sorry you believe that, though I can see why you do.” Rubbing her forehead, she winced. “And I’ll admit, there is a certain addiction that can develop when you finally feel powerful and in control for the first time.”
“When have you ever not been in control?”
“How about the time I was left alone and pregnant at the age of nineteen?”
Right. Bella slumped in the chair. “That must have been rough. But surely Daniel—Dad—wouldn’t have left you if he’d had a choice. I mean, he died. You can’t blame him for that.”
Mom sighed. “I lied, Bella.”
Why should she be surprised? “About what?”
“He didn’t die. At least, that I know of.” The words sliced through the room. “As you know, we were never married. What you don’t know is that he was nothing m
ore than a weekend fling. My girlfriends and I were on spring break and driving up the coast. We stopped in Walker Beach, and I met Daniel there.”
Bella leaned forward. Finally. She was finally going to learn about her father.
“He took me out for steak and shrimp then shopping for fancy art at the gallery in town. I convinced my friends to stay one extra night so I could be with him. It all felt so exciting for a poor college student to meet a handsome man with money to burn.” Mom’s voice softened with the memories. “He was more than that, though. He was a good sort of man. But he didn’t want to tell me his last name or where he lived, which makes me think . . .”
Oh. What had started as a sweet story turned bitter. But however distasteful, she had to know the rest. “Was he seeing someone else?”
Shrugging, Mom fiddled with one of her manicured nails. “Or married. He was several years older than me. Thirty-two, I think.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
Mom shook her head. “I found out I was pregnant six weeks later. Went to Walker Beach to try to track him down but no one had ever heard of him except for this kind teacher who worked weekends at the inn where I’d stayed.”
“Mary Robinson?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. She remembered seeing Daniel and me together but had never seen him before that weekend. She even checked the hotel records for me, but he must have stayed under an assumed name. And with only a first name to go on, no one else I asked around town could tell me anything.”
The truth burned away Bella’s last kindling of hope. “I don’t understand why you lied to me about him dying. And why not tell me all of this long before now?”
“You really don’t get it? I’m ashamed, Bella.” Turning, Mom gazed out the window. “Do you realize how many women I knew who got pregnant at fifteen, sixteen? There was even one girl who had a baby when she was twelve. I may have grown up in a trailer park, but I stayed away from boys, studied hard in school, got into college, was working my way through. Then in one night, I threw all of that away.”
All of You, Always Page 14
