His brother’s thick brows drew together. “Are you thinking about our potential liability in the accident? Is Wiley the attorney making sure we cover our—”
They both turned when a feminine throat cleared. “Sorry to bother you, Steven.” A woman walked toward them from the far side of the pool. She looked to be in her midtwenties and wore a pencil skirt and a silk blouse that made her seem a bit overdressed for a casual Sunday. “There’s a reporter in the lobby asking to speak to the hotel manager.” She tucked a perfect blond curl behind one ear. “If you’d like I can talk to him?”
Wiley frowned at the gleam in the woman’s gaze. “Who are you?” he demanded, not bothering to gentle his tone. In the same way that he’d felt an immediate connection with Grace, he had an instant dislike of this woman.
She swallowed visibly, her gaze darting from Wiley to Steven, who’d pulled out his phone and was typing in a message.
“Jillian Steward,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m one of the management program trainees at the hotel. I have a background in public relations as well as hospitality at my last position, so I’m more than equipped to deal with the press. That’s part of the role of whoever is promoted to the GM position.”
Grace had mentioned something about the trainee program last night. She’d seemed worried about her job given the extent of her injuries. Did she suspect one of her coworkers was going to take advantage of her absence? Wiley didn’t like the thought of that.
Steven nodded absently. “I texted Callum and Nicole, but if you want to—”
“I’ll talk to the reporter,” Wiley interrupted.
Jillian’s lips tightened. “I don’t mind.”
“Someone in the family should handle the media,” he said. “As hotel counsel, it makes sense that I act as spokesperson.”
“Hotel counsel?” Steven whistled under his breath. “Another new development.”
Wiley nodded and focused his attention on Jillian. “Would you please tell the reporter I’ll be with him in a minute?”
“Sure.” The woman flashed a cheery smile. “We won’t let Grace’s absence hold us back. If you need anything else—”
“We don’t,” Wiley told her.
“She’s just doing her job,” Steven said as Jillian disappeared into the hotel.
“It sounded to me like she was trying to encroach on Grace’s role.” Wiley drew in a calming breath. “I don’t like the thought of someone taking advantage of the accident.”
“It sounds to me like you have a lot of thoughts where Grace is concerned.”
“I’m doing my job,” Wiley shot back.
“As far as you being the hotel’s counsel, obviously I’m all for it. You know we’d like you to stick around Rambling Rose longer. In fact, weren’t you scheduled to fly back to Chicago this afternoon?”
“I changed my ticket.”
“Seriously?”
“Stop studying me like I’m some puzzle to figure out,” Wiley grumbled. He didn’t want to think that his brother could read the feelings he was trying to hide.
He’d texted his secretary early this morning asking her to change his airline reservation to give him a few extra days in Texas, mainly because he wanted to see for himself that Grace was doing okay. He wanted more than he cared to admit to see her again. No point in sharing those details with his brother. “The Hotel Fortune is a huge deal for the rest of you. That makes it a huge deal for me.”
Steven’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Thanks, Wi.” He clapped Wiley on the back. “Appreciate you stepping in, even if it’s temporary. I know that small-town life isn’t your deal.”
“Yeah.” Wiley massaged a hand over the back of his neck. He would have agreed 100 percent with Steven’s assessment before last night. Now he couldn’t say for sure how he felt. “I’m going to go deal with this reporter. He won’t be the only one interested in the accident. Let’s plan to meet with everyone out at the ranch later and come up with some talking points going forward.”
He nodded at his brother and then headed for the front of the hotel, his mind wandering to Grace and when he might see her again.
* * *
Grace tossed her cell phone down on the hospital bed with more force than necessary. “You can’t avoid me forever,” she muttered, then glared at her cast leg.
She knew that everyone at the hotel was busy with preparations for the grand opening, but she’d called and texted Jillian Steward, her counterpart in the management program, a half dozen times and had yet to receive a response.
Grace and Jillian weren’t the only two trainees, but they were the pair that had been singled out by the Fortunes to be considered for the promotion at the end of the six-month program. That meant Jillian was the competition, and Grace knew the woman would use every advantage she could to make herself seem more deserving of the general manger position.
And Grace was stuck in a hospital bed.
She’d received calls from a range of Fortunes since the accident, all of them conciliatory and thoughtful.
The family had sent an enormous bouquet of flowers. Grace appreciated the gesture, but when she’d asked about joining the regular Monday staff meeting by phone, Callum had told her that her only focus at the moment needed to be healing. She wondered if her mom had gotten to him.
“Who’s avoiding you?”
Her gaze darted to the open door to find Wiley Fortune standing there, looking just as handsome as he had Saturday night. He wore dark jeans and a gray sweater that somehow made his brown eyes look even darker.
“No one important,” she said, and offered him a weak smile, once again aware of the disparity in their appearances. She wore an old flannel shirt over her hospital gown. Although she’d managed a shower earlier with her mom’s help, Grace hadn’t bothered to apply makeup or do anything with her hair. She tucked a thick strand behind one ear, wishing she’d considered the possibility of a visitor she might want to impress.
“Are you up for some company?” he asked, almost hesitantly.
It was strange to see a man like Wiley appear anything but totally confident.
“I’d like that,” she said, and he approached the bed. He’d been holding one hand behind his back and pulled it out to reveal an exquisite bouquet of flowers arranged in a beautiful cut-glass vase.
“These are for you.” He gave a soft laugh. “Obviously.”
“Thank you.” She gestured him closer and sat up in the bed. “They’re beautiful. Calla lilies are my favorite.”
His smile widened. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“It’s true,” she assured him. “They remind me of summer.”
“They reminded me of you,” he told her. Something in the low rumble of his voice made goose bumps erupt along her skin.
She breathed in the sweet floral scent as he held the bouquet close to her. “Mine seem a bit small in comparison.” He touched a finger to the enormous arrangement on her bedside table as he placed his vase next to it.
“The hotel sent those,” she said. “Along with a fruit basket.”
“Thoughtful,” he murmured. “Everyone is relieved that you weren’t hurt worse.” His gaze clouded over as it roamed over the cast. “It could have been really bad.”
“If I spent my time worried about things that could have happened, I’d never have the strength to get out of bed in the morning.” She squeezed her hands together and focused on staying calm. “I would have given up a long time ago.”
He sat down in the chair her mother had situated next to the bed. “You can’t ever give up, Grace.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I can convince my parents to stop coddling me.” She didn’t want to sound bitter but couldn’t help her frustration. “I know I’m lucky, but what good does that do me if I lose my job at the hotel?”
Wiley
frowned. “You aren’t going to lose your job. They’ll give you time to heal. Healing is your priority.”
She let out a groan of frustration. “I’m so sick of hearing that,” she all but shouted, then realized how she must sound when Wiley’s eyes widened in shock.
“Are you sure we hadn’t met before yesterday?” She shook her head. “Because I don’t normally vent to people who are practically complete strangers.”
“The first time I saw you was at the party,” he said, his tone gentle. “That brief introduction wasn’t enough, but I thought we’d have all night to talk. Then you walked out onto the balcony and...” He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. “I wish I wouldn’t have left your side.”
“You couldn’t have known what would happen.” She reached out and covered his hand with hers before thinking about what she was doing. For several seconds, they both stared at the place where they touched. Hers was paler and looked small against his larger, golden-hued skin.
“I still regret not being able to protect you.”
“But if you’d been on the balcony we both would have been hurt.” Her heart beat against her rib cage, and she drew back her hand. She liked touching Wiley way too much. “I don’t need to be protected and am doing my best to convince my parents of that.”
“Parents worry. It’s part of the job description.”
Something in his tone made her wonder what he wasn’t saying. “Do you...um...have kids?”
“God, no.” He held up his hands in protest, like she’d just asked if he had cooties. “No wife or girlfriend, either, for the record.”
She laughed softly. “Thanks for sharing.”
“I’m more the uncle versus father type. Some people just aren’t cut out to be a parent, you know?”
“Some aren’t cut out for monogamy, either,” she countered. “Unfortunately, my last boyfriend was one of those.”
Wiley cringed. “Sorry.”
“Me, too.”
He tapped a finger on the chair’s wooden armrest. “People should know their limits. If a guy can’t be committed, he shouldn’t commit.”
Grace wasn’t sure how they’d gone down this path of conversation. But it was par for the course that she was harboring an unexpected attraction for a man who just admitted to basically being allergic to relationships.
“That’s why my focus is my career,” Grace said, then cleared her throat. Could she really claim a career after three months in a management training program? “My job at the hotel and the possible promotion after the grand opening. It’s everything to me.”
“That’s right,” Wiley said with a nod. “They’re going to hire a general manager locally. I met someone else today who’s part of the training program. Jillian something or other.”
“Steward.” Frustration balled in Grace’s stomach. “Jillian Steward. She also wants the GM role, and I’m sure she’s going to take advantage of me being on leave to ingratiate herself to everyone.” She groaned out loud when Wiley shifted in his chair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m sharing so many of my personal struggles with you. Jillian is a qualified candidate. Not more qualified than me, of course. Your brothers and sisters can make whatever decision they want about the promotion. I just hope I’m cleared to return to work sooner rather than later.”
“My brothers and sisters think highly of you,” he said with a sincere smile. “Missing a few weeks from work won’t change that.”
“Weeks?” She shook her head. “There’s no way I’m waiting weeks. The hotel will practically be open by then. There’s way too much to do and—” She paused, narrowed her eyes at Wiley. “Is that why you’re here? Did they send you to tell me I can’t come back until I’m done with the blasted cast? I know that’s what my mom wants, but she’s—”
Grace’s mother entered the room, closing the door harder than she needed to. “Your mother has your well-being at the forefront of her mind. I’m sure Mr. Fortune would agree that your recovery is most important.”
Wiley quickly stood and took a step away from the bed. “Most important,” he repeated, and Grace felt her lips twitch at how discombobulated he looked facing down her mother.
Barbara Williams was a petite woman, several inches shorter than Grace, with a delicate frame that belied her inner strength. She worked part-time at the high school library and had since Grace and Jake went to school there. Their mother claimed it kept her busy and out of her husband’s hair. Unfortunately, when she arrived at the hospital this morning, she’d also announced she was taking a few weeks of unpaid leave until Grace was up and around.
Except Grace wasn’t sure how that was supposed to happen while living under her mom’s overprotective thumb.
“I assume that’s why you’re here,” Barbara said to Wiley, her tone cool. “To assure Grace she has no worries about her position since she was injured on the job.”
“I stopped by to...” Wiley scrubbed a hand over his jaw, the slight scratching sound doing funny things to Grace’s insides. “That is to say I’m...”
“Why are you here?” Grace frowned at how flustered Wiley seemed. She certainly hoped that didn’t mean his plan had actually been to give her some bad news about her job. When he’d walked in, she’d been so darn happy to see him that she hadn’t bothered to question his appearance.
She couldn’t deny the connection she’d felt with him from the moment they locked eyes across the Roja banquet room. Given the invisible thread that apparently linked them together, it had seemed appropriate for him to visit her.
But her mother’s skeptical gaze made Grace doubt what she felt.
If doubts were dollar bills, she’d be a millionaire.
“Your job is secure,” he said, sounding less like the flirting man who’d entered her room and more like a stuffy attorney. The type of professional she’d come to distrust during her brother’s fight to ensure that insurance paid his medical bills after the car accident.
Somehow those words did little to relieve her anxiety.
“Thanks for relaying that message,” her mother said. “I’m sure the Fortunes who were responsible for the construction are far too busy trying to determine what went wrong to bother stopping by.”
“Mom, stop. Callum called earlier and both Steven and Dillon as well as Nicole and Megan have texted. It’s fine.”
Her mother sniffed, then sent another glare in Wiley’s direction.
“I should go,” he said, offering Grace a wan smile. “I’m glad you’re doing well, Grace, and hope you’ll be out of the hospital soon.”
“The doctor wants another round of concussion testing before she’s released.” Barbara flung the words at Wiley like they were a personal accusation.
“Do they suspect things are worse?”
Grace wasn’t sure what to make of the concern in his gaze, but it warmed her heart. Of course, it could just be that he didn’t want his family on the hook for additional medical expenses. That’s what her brother would say. Somehow, she didn’t believe it.
“She’s fine,” her mother said before Grace could answer. “But this is really a situation for the people close to her to handle. Her family.”
“I understand,” Wiley said with a pinched smile. “Please let me know if there’s anything I...any of us at the hotel can do to help.”
His gaze darted to Grace and then back to her mother before he left the room.
As soon as he disappeared, Barbara began to flit about the room, clearly filled with agitation.
“Mom, you were so rude to him.” Grace wanted to go after Wiley, but she couldn’t do anything stuck in this bed. The crutches a nurse had brought in rested against the wall, but it would take far too much time to manage them.
“Why was he here, Gracie?” her mother demanded, clasping her hands tight in front of her like she had to hold them together to kee
p in her nervous energy.
“To check on me.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He barely knows you.”
Grace had to agree that in theory it didn’t make sense, but her heart told her it was perfectly reasonable for Wiley to be at her side.
“He’s being nice,” she said, because explaining the feeling of connection she had with him would be a losing argument.
“Covering his family’s assets is more like it.”
“You sound like Jake.” Her brother had visited earlier, railing about the hotel and rumors of shoddy construction he’d heard from friends around town after reports of the balcony collapse got out. Since Rambling Rose was such a tight-knit community, word spread fast. “What happened at the hotel was a freak accident. The Fortunes are good people, Mom. They’ve already done so much for the town.”
Barbara’s mouth thinned, but she nodded. “I agree, but buildings don’t just fall apart for no reason. Jake feels that there’s something suspicious about the balcony collapsing the way it did.”
“Jake needs more hobbies,” Grace grumbled. “Or to watch less true-crime television.”
Her mother’s features gentled. “You have a point, but the Fortunes have had problems in the past. I remember hearing about some crazy ex-wife causing all sorts of trouble for the family. There was even talk about a kidnapping.”
“Those aren’t the same Fortunes.” Grace closed her eyes and silently counted to ten, hoping for patience. “It was Jerome Fortune—the tech giant who reinvented himself as Gerald Robinson—whose family had those issues. He eventually found happiness, though, with his first love. And Wiley’s father, David, wasn’t involved in any of that. The difficulties haven’t followed the Fortunes to Rambling Rose as far as I’ve heard.”
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