Flipping open a fabric book, she fingered a swatch of moss-green fabric. “We’ll never reach healthy profits with the south wing shuttered. Given the amount of work ahead, we must start soon. ”
The cost of making the south wing habitable for guests was prohibitive. A twinge of worry swept through him. Was she getting in over her head?
Gently he said, “Will you accept my help? I’d like to study the quotes before you accept any bids. You’re talking about everything from heating and cooling to work on the roof. You can’t have bats in the hallways or raccoons showing up in the suites.” Every year he offered to help patrol the attic. She insisted on evicting the vermin singlehandedly. Lightly he added, “Redecorating sounds like fun, but deal with the structural problems first.”
Her shoulders lifted to her ears. “I forgot about the roof,” she murmured.
“Better make it job one.”
“You don’t mind looking everything over? I don’t have all the numbers yet. Expecting two more quotes within the hour.”
“Linnie, I want to help.” Relief bloomed on her face, lending him the courage to add, “I didn’t stop by to put a damper on your plans.”
“Why are you here?”
“To ask for the honor of escorting you to the party. Normally I’d insist on picking you up. Since you’re hosting the event, I’ll settle for meeting you outside the ballroom.”
The suggestion came out more stilted than intended. Linnie glossed over his clumsy speech with a smile on her lips. Taking her time, she returned the book of swatches to the table. Her cheeks flushed a sheer pink. As they did, an emotion that sure felt like victory brought Daniel to her side.
“Shall we go together?” He caught a stray tendril of hair escaping her chignon. He relished the softness between his fingertips. “I hope you’re not planning to disappoint me.”
“Will you take offense if your date occasionally disappears to check that everything’s going smoothly?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Will you also manage to stop me from wringing my brother’s neck?” she joked. “Freddie invited my regular employees.”
“Who’ll cook and serve? You don’t just have the party to worry about. There are other guests staying at the inn.”
“Not all of the staff will attend the party. Quite a few agreed to overtime pay. They’ll skip the event.”
“What about the people you let go after Freddie screwed everything up? If you’re still shorthanded, I’m sure you’ll get a few bites.”
“I’m way ahead of you. Some have agreed to work the night.”
“I’m sure they’re hoping you’ll reinstate them,” Daniel said, well aware of how badly she’d hated letting staff members go. “Some of your previous employees have been out of work for a long time.”
“I’d like to bring everyone back,” she agreed. Irritation registered on her features as she added, “Freddie hired temp workers to fill out the staff. I’ll need to keep an eye on them.”
She began to add something else.
Compressing her lips, she focused instead on his tie, deftly repositioning the knot before smoothing the lapels of his blazer with painstaking care. He liked the way she straightened his clothing without seeking permission, the territorial nature of her hands moving across his chest, dipping beneath the blazer to warm the skin underneath. Intent on breathing him in, her nostrils flared the slightest degree. Pleasure rolled through his senses.
The pleasure receded as he noticed the anxiety thinning her mouth. What problem threatened her mood? He searched for a subtle way to ask.
He lost the opportunity. On her desk, the phone trilled. Another quote, he presumed.
Landing a peck on his cheek, she dashed off to answer.
Chapter 15
On the veranda, Linnie waited with her stomach in knots. As much as she missed her mother, she hated the prospect of a debate over the future of the inn. Sarah never raised her voice, but her tears and indirect censure were just as unbearable. Would she listen to reason? Linnie bit at her lip—in the past, she’d never once swayed her mother on any topic of importance.
In the distance, the limousine threw clouds of dust above the road leading to the inn. With jerky movements she smoothed down her dress, her lips dry and her muscles tense. Then she smoothed the anxiety from her brow and fastened a smile to her lips.
Dawn crested above the treetops as Sarah Wayfair stepped from the sleek ride.
In the peach-hued light, Sarah paused to appraise the new rhododendrons with an approving eye. Although she’d flown on the red-eye, she appeared fresh in a teal summer suit with threads as golden as the Wayfair’s foundation stones knitted through.
Linnie came down the steps at a stiff gait. “How was your flight?”
“Pleasant, actually. Plenty of room in first class. I dozed for most of the trip.” Her mother waved to the driver as the sleek automobile drove off. “Gerald was the high point of the journey. He whisked me out of the airport in no time. So kind of your brother to arrange the limousine to pick me up.”
There was no sense favoring the comment with a response. “Where’s your luggage?” She didn’t have her brother’s means to treat her mother to first class or a limousine. “Even if you’re only here for the day, surely you want to shower and change before the flight out.”
Her mother flicked a lock of platinum blonde hair from her brow. “I forgot my carry-on in the car when your father dropped me off. Lucy made such a fuss as I left, and he looked ready to blow his cork. There’s no reasoning with the man when he’s caught in a fit of temper.”
Linnie tried to keep up. “You named the dog Lucy? Cute name.”
“She’s adorable. I’ve always wanted a terrier.”
A wave of jealousy slid through her. Count on Freddie to butter their mother up precisely when Linnie most required her to remain open-minded.
Warding off the unbecoming emotion, she asked, “You weren’t upset with the gift? Caring for a puppy sounds like a lot of work.”
“I’m happy with anything that keeps your father busy. You know how irritable he becomes without enough diversions.”
Linnie did indeed. Prior to the stroke, her father had possessed boundless energy. He’d managed the inn with military precision, demanding absolute perfection from everyone in his employ. He’d demanded the same of his children, and his arguments with Freddie over poor grades and overall appearance never abated. Linnie, with her attention to detail and love of schoolwork, never received the brunt of his fury.
Still, she hadn’t been immune to the stress of a demanding parent. A fond childhood memory revolved around the soothing qualities of vanilla-scented shortbread. During stormy arguments between father and son, the kitchen became a favored sanctuary. She’d munch cookies while helping the staff with simple tasks, like washing vegetables or cleaning the counters.
In the lobby, Mr. Uchida shared a few words with Sarah. The interlude was welcome—the self-confidence Linnie tried to muster was quickly failing.
The pleasantries concluded, she asked, “Would you like coffee?”
“And a croissant. I’m famished.”
Linnie stopped a waitress coming in for work. The girl trotted off to fill the order. When she had, Linnie ushered her mother toward the office.
Someone had brought order to a room cluttered with fabric swatches, wallpaper books, and the various job quotes still coming in. Jada and Cat? Leading her mother inside, Linnie made a mental note to thank them later. In her worry about the impending meeting, she’d forgotten the task.
Her mother said, “I spoke to Freddie on the drive in. He’s switched to a later flight. Something about additional changes to the script for the August film shoot.”
“He’s not coming in this morning?”
Sarah lingered by the table, her fingers climbing the stack of wallpaper books. “An hour after my departure. We’ll just miss each other.”
“How can we discuss the inheritance without
him?”
“Dearest heart, it’s best if we chat alone.” Having dropped the ominous statement, her mother assessed her from top to bottom. “Can’t you find time to get to the salon?”
“I’ve been busy.” She also lived frugally now, thanks to the difficulties the inn had experienced after Freddie took off.
“You shouldn’t neglect your appearance. When you were younger, you were always beautifully turned out.”
“You don’t like the dress?” A summer knit, one of her best outfits.
“A necklace would do wonders.” Nearing, Sarah drew her hand down the tangled hair framing Linnie’s face. “You resemble a shaggy dog.”
The light rap on the door felt like a reprieve. A waitress tiptoed inside. Linnie directed her to leave the order on the coffee table. The urge to follow her back out was difficult to suppress.
Painfully conscious of her posture, Linnie seated herself on the couch and poured coffee into china cups. An insistent drone carried across her eardrums. Her nerves stretching taut, she crossed her ankles. She managed to lift the steaming cup to her lips without clattering the saucer.
Concluding her inspection of the table, Sarah walked to the wall opposite the bookcases. She examined each photograph in turn, the private shrine of Wayfair men placed in chronological order.
Knitting together her jumbled thoughts, Linnie said, “I’m working on plans to update sections of the inn and reopen the south wing.” She gave a brief explanation of the quotes already gathered. Summing up, she added, “By next summer, we’ll book at full capacity. I’ll run a small ad campaign this fall, print and digital. Next spring I’ll increase the advertising.”
Sarah joined her on the couch. “Should your father review the renovation quotes? Trades are less inclined to pad the price when negotiating with a man.”
“I can manage.”
“Sugarpop, you’re unfamiliar with construction. The roof in the south wing needs repair, and what about plumbing and electrical? You don’t know the first thing about either. Tradesmen will take advantage of your ignorance.”
“If a price seems unfair, I’ll talk to Daniel.”
“Why ask Daniel for advice?”
“He offered to help.”
The explanation thinned her mother’s lips. “I’m not visiting long enough to debate minor points. If you don’t wish to take advantage of your father’s advice, then have Freddie review the quotes. There’s no need to solicit the opinion of an outsider.”
The comment felt like a reprimand. “Daniel is a close friend,” she said, trying to brush it off. “I trust his judgment.”
“Linnie, please. Stop pretending you’re obtuse.”
“Then speak plainly. I’m not sure what you’re driving at.”
Sarah pressed stiff fingers to her brow. “Forge ahead with improvements if you’d like, but do involve your brother.”
Sarah picked up her croissant, tore off a corner. She ate slowly, and Linnie despaired at the fine mist gathering on her lashes. How much longer before she resorted to tears or suffered a nosebleed? The path into the conversation was rife with brambles. Yet remaining silent was the greater risk.
“Mother,” she said with failing patience, “I can’t involve Freddie. I won’t. You and Daddy must recognize the facts. He’s perfectly content in California. He doesn’t care about the inn, not the way I do. This is my life.”
The years working to save the inn, the long hours and low pay—none of the sacrifices made seemed to sway her mother. Sadness pitched through Linnie so quickly she stiffened in response. Her mother barely noticed as she set the plate aside with a hint of disapproval gathering in her eyes.
“Why would you make a career the sole focus of your life?” Sarah asked, and the hard tone of her query deepened Linnie’s despair. “Work here as long as you like, although I hope you’ll make room for more enjoyable pursuits. You’re thirty-two. Don’t you want to find a nice man and settle down?”
Linnie stared at her, astonished. “When would I have time to look for a husband? I’ve spent years keeping the Wayfair afloat.”
“Your father and I appreciate everything you’ve done. We never meant to stop you from having your own life.”
“What was I supposed to do? Freddie took the money, which nearly killed—”
“No, Linnie,” her mother said fiercely, cutting her off. “Freddie did not cause your father’s stroke. Good heavens, your father was a heavy smoker. I tried repeatedly to get him to stop. Oh, he learned to hide the habit well enough. It took the stroke to compel him to quit.”
“I thought he gave up the cigarettes when I was in college,” she murmured, adrift.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about your father.”
The remark stretched tight the air between them. The secrets tucked in Sarah’s memories brushed against her downturned lips. She closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she asked, “Do you have any idea how much your father once loathed the Wayfair?”
The question took Linnie off guard. “Impossible,” she murmured, incredulous.
“I assure you, he did. Naturally you find the truth baffling.” Reading the disbelief on Linnie’s face, Sarah gave her head a weary shake. “Children rarely understand their parents. You come into our lives after we’ve found ourselves. After we’re fully formed. You don’t see the clay that shapes us.”
“You’re wrong. Dad loved everything about the inn.” He’d lavished attention on the smallest details, his pride unmistakable.
“Not at the beginning.” A hairline crack of sorrow appeared in Sarah’s voice. Reaching for her purse, she produced a tissue to pat her watering eyes. “He regarded those years as a humiliation. As the sort of misstep only a man of weak disposition could make.”
“What happened?” Linnie whispered, at sea.
“Why, he ran away—just like your brother. Fortunately for this grand house, Treat’s love affair with painting didn’t last long. He was eighteen, right out of high school. One short, sweet summer in Paris. Several art schools turned him down. I’m sorry to report his talent was limited at best. The money ran out, and he left Paris in time to begin the fall semester at Ohio State.”
The revelation erased the boundaries of the known world. Her father had dreamt of becoming a painter? Dumbfounded, Linnie searched her memories for a clue to the hidden talent. Nothing came to mind. The father she remembered never doodled while taking notes or spent weekends photographing scenery. He certainly hadn’t owned paints or an easel.
Sarah finished drying her eyes. “You might consider altering your opinion of your brother. Freddie’s obsession with creative arts is hereditary, no different than the blue eyes from my side of the family. Which won’t change the outcome. Eventually he’ll take a man’s path and claim his legacy. The Wayfair is a storied part of Ohio history. Treat understood. One day, Freddie will too.”
Anger rippled through Linnie. “Why can’t I claim the legacy?” Hurt followed in a scalding wave.
“Sugarpop, you know why.”
She cringed beneath the loathsome sobriquet. “Because I’m not a man?”
A tear rolled down her mother’s cheek into the waiting tissue. “Let your brother build castles. Don’t you want children one day?”
Linnie waved off the speech. “Answer me. Will you pass me over because I’m a daughter and not a son?”
“We haven’t passed you over.”
“You can’t do this.”
“Without your efforts, we might have lost this grand house. No one will forget, dear.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass on the accolades. Just treat me fairly.”
“When your brother buys out your shares, he’ll pay you handsomely. If he chooses to reassert control before then, you’ll display the grace I’m certain you’re endowed with and support him.” Her mother laced the command with mock enthusiasm. “Keep in mind how quickly time runs out. Find someone to love. Marry and raise a family.”
The inco
ngruous statement was disorienting. “You act as if marriage and career are mutually exclusive. They’re not.”
“I’m saying if you live for your job, you don’t have much of a life at all.” Deepening the blow, Sarah pressed her hand to Linnie’s thigh. “You’ll have more luck winning a man if you watch your figure. How I wish you took after my side of the family. Well, no matter. There are dozens of eligible bachelors in Sweet Lake. If no one local suits, consider online dating. I’ve heard marvelous stories of couples meeting on those sites.”
A terrible quiet swelled between them. A broken moment, and pain raced up Linnie’s arm. She realized her nails were dug into the soft pad of her palm. Releasing her fingers, she stared unseeing.
She felt nothing. The enormity of all she’d lost was too great.
Her mother glided to the door, a ship on calm seas. “I should rest,” she said, clearly eager to depart. “Shall we meet in the Sunshine Room at one o’clock?”
Frances smiled at Jada, waiting for her in the busy lobby.
With more of Silvia and Marco’s guests checking in for the party, the stress of dealing with the inn at full capacity showed on Jada’s face. She looked harried, her curls mussed as she came around the desk where she’d been helping Mr. Uchida.
“Linnie doesn’t know I called you,” Jada said, steering her toward the stairwell. “I doubt she’d thank me.”
Her loyalty was admirable. “Let’s consider this our little secret.” Frances looked past Mr. Uchida to the hallway leading toward Linnie’s office. “Where is Linnie?”
“Holed up in her office.”
“You haven’t seen her since her mother arrived?”
“Only for a moment, in the kitchen. Mentioned she’ll have lunch with her mother before Mrs. Wayfair leaves for the airport. She seems all right,” Jada added, the doubt thick in her voice. “Did I do the right thing by calling you?”
“Not to worry,” Frances assured her. “I’d hoped to visit with Sarah before she leaves. It’s been ages since we’ve had a chance to catch up.” She declined to add that Sarah had begged off, ostensibly because there wasn’t time before the flight home.
Sweet Lake (Sweet Lake #1) Page 17