The Inn at Summer Island

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The Inn at Summer Island Page 4

by Rachel Magee


  “One and the same.” She beamed.

  “I had one of your mochas at the coffee shop and it was fantastic.” She shook Sophia’s hand. “I’m Millie Leclair. I just moved into Seascape.”

  “Oh, Mildred’s niece! We’ve all heard so much about you. I adored your aunt. Her business tips helped me get my shop up and running.”

  Millie had only been in Summer Island for three days, but it really seemed like her aunt had made a positive effect on everyone in this little town.

  “She was an extraordinary lady.”

  “She was.” Sophia motioned for her to follow her to an opened laptop computer at the head of the long boardroom table. “What would you like to add to the docket?”

  Millie pulled out the top sheet of paper from her folder and handed it to Sophia. “I think it might be easier to let you read it instead of trying to explain it myself.” George had done an excellent job of writing out the legal phrasing she’d need for each different step of this process. And while Millie had spent hours over the past two days going over all of this, she wasn’t sure she could say it as eloquently as he had.

  Sophia was quiet for a second while she read the paper. “So you want to resurrect Mildred’s little bed and breakfast, huh? I hear it was pretty impressive back in its prime.”

  Millie thought she detected a hint of skepticism in Sophia’s voice, which made her stand a little taller in defense. “It was listed in the top one hundred places to visit in Travel Magazine for fifteen years in a row. It was featured more times than any other privately owned hotel in the country.” True, these were facts that George’s team had given her to aid her arguments, but she should’ve known them. It was impressive. The town should be proud of Seascape Inn. “It’s my intention to restore her to her former glory.”

  Sure, it seemed like an unrealistic goal when the house was falling apart, she couldn’t even get the electric company to turn on the power, and apparently running the inn had become forbidden, but it could be done. Probably.

  Sophia grinned. “I think Mildred would have loved that.” She set the paper on the table and typed something into the computer. Millie surveyed the room again, her palms getting sweaty. Somehow, having to present her case in this cozy room full of people who all knew each other was more intimidating than what she’d imagined.

  When Sophia finished typing, she handed the paper back to Millie. “You’re all set. There are extra chairs set up along that wall over there. Here’s an agenda. Your part will be at the end during new business.”

  “Thanks.” She stared down at the agenda.

  “If you have any questions about anything, just let me know. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  Sophia’s bright and cheerful voice sparked her confidence, and Millie wove through the tight space to the chairs along the back wall as an older gentleman announced it was time to get started. Maybe this meeting wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  As soon as everyone had taken their seats, the older gentleman banged a gavel on the table and called the meeting to order. “We’re still missing our president and a few others.” He motioned to the empty chair at the head of the table. “But let’s go ahead and get started with approving the minutes from our last meeting.”

  They were in the formal approval process when the door to the boardroom opened and an out of breath Braxton Channing stuck his head in. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Millie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Typical. He was quick to critique everyone else’s life but didn’t bother to hold himself up to the same standards.

  Instead of coming into the room, he held up a finger. “Hold on. Let me see if I can hurry her along.” Before anyone could say anything, he disappeared again.

  Seriously? He was already late and now he wanted the entire meeting to wait on him while he told someone else what to do? This guy had some nerve.

  A minute later he returned, holding a giggling strawberry-blond toddler. “Once again, my sincerest apologies.”

  Millie took in the adorable two- or three-year-old on Braxton’s hip who had his same eyes. Wait. He had a kid? This was new information. Maybe it was time she googled America’s favorite golfer and found out what really happened after he left the sport.

  Since the only empty chair along the back wall was next to her, she moved her bag to make more room. She wasn’t overly concerned with Mr. Bossy-Pants’s comfort, but the little girl deserved a place to sit.

  But instead of making his way to the back of the room, he stopped at the head of the table. Pulling the tiny purple unicorn backpack off his shoulder, he sank into the vacant chair.

  The president’s chair.

  “Where are we?” Braxton asked.

  Millie’s stomach plunged. Perfect. This was just perfect. Her uptight, know-it-all neighbor was also the HOA president. Could anything else go wrong in this new empowered life of hers?

  “We were just about to get started with item one in old business.” Sophia pushed her laptop in front of him then held her arms out to the little girl and lifted her onto her lap. “Alice, want to sit with me so your daddy can run the meeting?”

  From somewhere, Sophia produced a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and handed one to the cute little girl who sat contentedly on her lap and nibbled on it. “And be aware we have a couple of additions to new business at the end.” She pointed to something at the bottom of the computer screen. Braxton appeared to study it for a long second and then looked up, searching the room until his gaze landed on Millie.

  “Hello, Ms. Leclair.” He offered a stiff and serious smile, but there was something about his stare, something in the way he looked at her, that seemed to go deeper than a polite greeting. It caused a slight flutter in her chest and she had to force herself to not squirm.

  “I’m glad you could join us this evening.”

  Seriously, she’d never seen eyes that shade of blue before. They were like the color of the sky on a beautiful, clear day. Perhaps she needed to focus on something other than his gorgeous eyes. Or his handsome face. Really, maybe she shouldn’t look at him at all.

  So she transferred her focus to Sophia. “I’m anxious to share my grievance.”

  Sophia flashed a friendly smile and handed the little girl another pretzel.

  “Right.” Braxton shifted in his chair. “Well, let’s get started.”

  For the next forty minutes the board discussed everything from beautification projects to budgets to closing out a few violation inquiries.

  “And that brings us to our final new item of the evening. The owner of 121 East Shore Drive has a grievance with one of the policies listed in the deed restrictions.” Braxton looked up at the other board members seated around the table. “To remind you of the background of this property, the original owner, Mildred Leclair, recently passed away. The property has been inherited by Ms. Millie Leclair who is currently residing at the residence.”

  He shifted his gaze to Millie. “The floor is yours, Ms. Leclair.”

  Everyone turned to her and ice water flooded her veins, making the tips of her fingers and toes tingle. This was ridiculous. She was in a room among peers who owned houses in the same neighborhood she did. She had nothing to be nervous about, but reciting these facts to herself didn’t change the fact that this felt like a giant game of which-one-of-these-is-not-like-the-others and she was the answer.

  She stood, clutching the papers George had given her in her hand, and cleared her throat. “I’m coming before you today to make a formal complaint against article eleven section B as well as article eleven section C.”

  The complete silence at the end of her statement made her want to squirm. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and continued reading off the sheet. “The aforementioned articles were put into place without regard for the current status of the property at 121 East Shore Drive. Since the property was es
tablished in 1953, it has been operated as a for-profit lodging facility. Furthermore, you will find in article four section A that all future regulations and changes which would negatively affect a property have to go through a separate approval process, which states…”

  Millie could hear herself droning on and on with the mind-numbing legal mumbo-jumbo. From the glazed-over looks from almost everyone at the table, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way about the words coming out her mouth.

  She finished reading the paragraph she was on, then paused. She had a good case. George and his team had been very thorough. But she was missing the passion.

  She didn’t need any papers to guide her on this, so she folded them and addressed her audience once more. “Seascape Inn has been a pillar of the community long before the neighborhood was established. Its commercial business helped found the town. People who call this town home along with those who choose to come here year after year have good memories, priceless memories, of times spent at Seascape Inn. They’re the kind of memories that give people hope and encouragement.” Each word rang true, pushing away the chill of nervousness and the fear of the unknown. For the first time since she’d rolled into this town, she felt empowered.

  “Our community needs those kinds of moments and those kinds of memories. Regardless of what’s written in all of those articles and sections, we need Seascape to be what it has always been. It deserves to be a functioning boutique hotel.” She took a slight step forward as she delivered the last statement, her posture tall and proud. Even her voice had risen a decibel to echo the passion burning in her chest.

  Everyone in the room stared at her.

  Crickets. Literally. The only thing that could be heard in the whole room was the annoying chirping of a cricket.

  All of the wind got knocked out of her sails, and a flame of embarrassment brushed across her cheeks. She stood there as the silence became awkward, wondering what she should do next. Should she sit and let the board discuss, or should she keep talking? There were two more pages of legal mumbo-jumbo she could read to them.

  “Thank you, Miss Leclair,” Braxton finally said. “For clarification purposes for our minutes, you’re requesting that the HOA reconsider article eleven section B that would prohibit the property at 121 East Shore Drive from operating as a business and article eleven section C that would prohibit said property from becoming a hotel.”

  “Not becoming, Mr. Channing. Remaining.”

  He nodded. “Very well. I motion to delay taking a vote on this topic until our next general meeting. That should give everyone on the board ample time to research the issue and will allow Miss Leclair time to display the renovations and a thorough plan for the property. Does anyone second?”

  An older gentleman in a short-sleeved cotton guayabera shirt gave a second. Braxton turned to Sophia. “So for now let’s leave this case open and put it at the top of the agenda for our next meeting.” Sophia typed something into her computer and Braxton looked around the table.

  “And unless I’m missing something, that concludes our meeting. Does anyone have any other announcements before we formally adjourn?”

  …

  Braxton banged the gavel against the table. Almost immediately people pushed back from the table and the room filled with conversation.

  Not Millie, though. She dropped into her chair looking defeated.

  Sophia swiveled her chair to face him, Alice happily sitting on her lap. “Is everything okay with Henry?”

  From the moment he stepped through the door, Braxton had forced the drama from earlier today to the back of his mind so he could be 100 percent present here. But all it took was one simple question from his friend to bring it all flooding back.

  Braxton rested his elbow on the table and massaged his temples. “He got confused and didn’t want to take his medicine. Which led to him being belligerent, which led to all sorts of problems. But he had calmed down by the time I left. It helped that Lena could stay with him, but I didn’t want her to have to watch Alice, too.”

  Lena, their sixty-year-old nanny and housekeeper, had also helped take care of Henry before he moved into the memory care home and was the only other person Henry still trusted.

  Sophia ruffled the little girl’s hair. “That’s not a problem because we don’t mind Alice hanging out with us, do we?” She turned back to Braxton and put a sympathetic hand on his arm. “But I’m so sorry you have to go through this. I know it’s hard to watch.”

  Henry had always been one of the gentlest, most patient people Braxton knew. Never would he have ever expected to be called out for Henry causing problems, but this condition was changing everything. The more confused he got, the more frustrated he became. And the more frustrated he became the more his fight or flight reflex kicked in. Unfortunately, lately he was prone to the fighting side.

  “I made a doctor’s appointment for him next week. Maybe she’ll have some suggestions on how to manage it better.”

  Sophia smiled. “You’re a good friend to him. He’s lucky to have you.”

  Braxton shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Well, I’m going to take Alice to see the fish tank in the lobby. Take your time finishing up whatever you need to do in here.” She turned her attention to the little girl in her lap. “Chiquita, want to go see if we can find Dory?”

  Alice clapped her hands together and they got up to leave. “Bye-bye, Daddy,” she called as she bounced to the door holding Sophia’s hand.

  “Bye, Little Foot. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  His daughter grinned at him with an expression that was an exact replica of her mother. He watched her walk with Sophia until they disappeared into the hallway. He turned back to the computer to finish up the notes he needed to make, but the stress headache that had started earlier still pounded in his head, making it hard to concentrate. Maybe he needed water.

  He pushed away from the table and headed toward the snack table. But halfway there, his new neighbor, Millie Leclair, appeared in front of him with her hands on her hips and her lips pressed together in a grim line.

  “Why do you hate my aunt’s legacy?”

  Braxton frowned. “I have nothing against Mildred’s legacy. I thought she was a lovely woman.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Then why are you trying to buy up her land and block her hotel?”

  It’d been a hard day and all Braxton wanted was to drink some water, finish his work, and get home to put Alice to bed. He let out a sigh and reached around her until he could snag one of the bottles on the edge of the table. Still, he admired her tenacity.

  “I’m not trying to block you.” He twisted off the top and raised an eyebrow. “Plus, I thought you said you wanted it to be more of a bed and breakfast.” He took a long pull from his drink, keeping his gaze on her.

  She blinked in rapid succession. While he’d managed to catch every word she’d said on their first meeting, he’d somehow missed how pretty her eyes were. They were the color of rich caramel and they simultaneously calmed and ignited something within him.

  “It’s…well…yeah. So you were listening.”

  Braxton nodded. “Of course I was listening. My job, however, is to make sure everything that happens in the neighborhood is in everyone’s best interests.”

  She propped her hand on her hip again, regaining her footing, and passion ignited in her beautiful eyes. “And you don’t think my great-aunt’s legacy, my livelihood, is what’s best for the community?”

  He took another swig of his water, trying to turn his attention to anything other than the way her eyes sparked when she spoke. Or how they were causing a flurry somewhere deep in his chest.

  “I didn’t say that, but there are a lot of things at play here. The bylaws were written to protect our residents, our neighborhoods, and our beaches.” It might be an unpopular opinion, but he happene
d to like rules. They protected things that needed to be protected. They kept people safe.

  “What exactly do you think I’ll be doing at the B&B? Holding midnight raves and dumping my trash on the beach?”

  “I wouldn’t think so, but one should never assume.” He leaned in as if sharing a secret. “By the way, if you’re planning on the rave, you should make it an early evening thing. There’s also a noise ordinance that goes into effect at eleven.” He gave her his best what-can-you-do? look and shrugged.

  She rolled her eyes and the flurry in his chest upgraded to a fluster, which he immediately stomped down. He didn’t have time for that, no matter how much he admired her gusto.

  “My intention, Mr. Channing, is to restore a legacy. A legacy that, as I said before, helped build this community. A legacy that should’ve never been blocked.”

  “And as the HOA president, if one of our rules or regulations is unfair, I’m dedicated to making it right. Which is why I asked for more time to fully review your case.” He nodded once, confident he’d made the right call. “If reopening your B&B is what’s best for our community, convince us.”

  “Oh, I will. Seascape’s renovations are going to have her looking even better than she did before. And I won’t just have a plan to show you. I’ll host an open house before the next board meeting so you can see it in person.”

  He hoped she had deep pockets because it would take a small fortune to pull that off.

  He held up his drink in a salute to her. “No one is looking forward to seeing that more than I am.”

  “In that case, you better hold on to your socks, because I’m about to knock them off.”

  Chapter Four

  Millie stood on her front porch with Bear by her side and watched the last of the contractors drive off down her crumbling circular driveway. From the estimates she’d received today, fixing said driveway would cost anywhere from three to six thousand dollars. More if she wanted stamped concrete, which was what they all recommended.

  She glanced down at the price sheet in her hand.

 

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