Generations

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Not really,” Matt said. “When a father dies, he often leaves property to his son, and all kinds of things get shifted around. People relocate, sell off land—things like that. It’s a prime time for things to show up in land records and employment records.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Andrew said, but even thinking it through logically didn’t make the goose bumps go away.

  “I have a lot more digging to do, but one thing I found right away was Adam’s active involvement in the Topeka community,” Matt went on. “I found his name in city council ledgers and newspaper articles. He seemed to be a very well-respected man.”

  Andrew glanced over at Tony, who had been largely silent this whole time. Tony gave him a thumbs-up, kind of a “See? Not all your ancestors were scum,” sort of look. Andrew held back a smile. “That’s good to know.”

  “This is all just preliminary,” Matt went on. “I’m sure I’ll find a lot more, given time.”

  “Anything you can find, especially photographs, would mean a lot to me.”

  “You bet.” Matt stood and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Brody. I’ll give you a call.”

  They shook hands, and Tony walked their visitor out while Andrew read over the pedigree chart again. He wondered if he’d ever memorize all their names. He probably didn’t need to, but he couldn’t help the curiosity bubbling up inside him.

  Tony came back and sat down. “I called the maid service on Friday and offered them a boatload of money because of all the cobwebs, and they said they’d get right on it,” he said. “I also called a contractor. Seems like there was one other thing you asked me to do . . .”

  “An interior decorator,” Andrew reminded him.

  “Oh, that’s right. Beverly found someone and made an appointment for right after lunch.”

  “Sounds good.” Andrew stood up and smoothed down the front of his suit. “Well, time to go convince the board of directors that I haven’t lost my mind.”

  “And just how are you going to do that?”

  “I have no idea, but I do have to try.”

  Chapter Three

  “Did this Beverly Thomas woman say anything about her project?” Tabs asked as they walked toward the elevator in the parking garage.

  “Nope. Just that she hoped we could meet up this afternoon.” Marissa had her doubts about this one. The whole thing sounded a little fishy. No one needs an interior decorator in a hurry—not unless they’ve killed someone in the parlor and need to replace the rug.

  “Huh. That’s kind of weird. Business or residential?”

  “She didn’t even say that much.”

  They stepped into the elevator, and Tabs hit the button for the third floor. When the car lifted, Marissa felt her stomach go with it. She was more nervous than she wanted to admit. The decision had been made to close down the office and she’d already given notice to their landlord. This job wasn’t going to change that, but it could be a little something to grow on.

  The receptionist at the front desk smiled when Marissa told her they were there to meet with Beverly Thomas. “I’ll buzz you in,” she said.

  When they stepped into the office, Marissa was immediately impressed by how nicely it was decorated. It was manly without screaming testosterone, classic without being boring. Then her eyes drifted to the man standing behind the desk, and she forgot about everything else for a second. He was very nicely decorated too—tall, blond, a little bit Ken Doll only without the plastic. His nose was slightly crooked, which kept him from being too perfect, which actually added to the perfectness. She’d have to concentrate hard to stay professional.

  “I’m Andrew Brody,” he said, holding out his hand. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

  She accepted his hand, trying not to notice but noticing anyway that it was a very nice hand to accept. “Marissa Clark, and this is my assistant, Tabitha Morrow. I’m sorry—I believed I was meeting with Beverly Thomas.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” A woman in her mid-forties spoke up from a chair near the desk. “I’m Beverly, and yes, I did make the call, but I should have been more clear that I was doing it on Mr. Brody’s behalf.”

  “That’s all right,” Marissa said with a smile. “I just wanted to be sure we were in the right place.”

  “Please have a seat.” Andrew Brody held out his hand, and Marissa noticed that there was a chair nearby for everyone in the room. “You’ve just met Beverly, and I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Morrow. This is Tony Esposito, my lawyer. Beverly is actually his paralegal. We’ve just taken on a sizeable project, Miss Clark, and we could use your input.”

  She held up a hand. “I hope you don’t mind, but I believe it would be a lot easier if we jumped right in with first names. I’m already confused, and I’ve been here less than a minute.”

  He laughed. “Of course. That would make things a lot easier.”

  She liked his laugh. A lot. “Tell me about this project, Andrew.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I’ve recently inherited a large hotel. Are you from this area, Marissa?”

  “I am. I grew up here.”

  He nodded. “Then maybe you’re familiar with it. It’s an old brown building down by the railroad tracks not far from Lund’s Grocery.”

  “What? That’s your building?” She glanced over at Tabs, who most likely had no idea what she was so excited about. “I used to ride my bike down there and imagine what it looked like on the inside.”

  “Well, how would you like to find out?” Andrew met her gaze. “We’re going to renovate it top to bottom, and we need an interior decorator who can do it justice. If you’re interested, I’d like you to take a look around and come up with some ideas.”

  “Are you serious?” She glanced at Tabs again. “I’m sorry—I realize I’m getting a little hyper. You just have no idea how much a project like this would thrill me. I love restoring historical things.”

  “I don’t mind you being hyper. In fact, I like it. It means that you’ll be invested in the outcome, and that’s important to me.” He shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “I’ve just put a massive percentage of my portfolio on the line, offended half my board of directors, and promised to eat a gallon of crow if this doesn’t work, so you could say that I have a lot at stake here.”

  “So you’re thinking of reopening it back up as a functioning hotel?” That would be so amazing. It was all she could do not to bounce up and down in her chair.

  “Yes, I am. Things have changed since 1875, though, so it won’t be exactly the same.”

  “Back in the day, there was a great deal of train travel through this area,” Tony said, easing into the conversation as though he’d been a part of it from the beginning. “The hotel’s main purpose was to feed the passengers while the train refilled its water and coal and then to get them back out the door. If you’re familiar with the Harvey Houses of the Old West, that’s essentially what the Brody Hotel was.”

  “Of course I’m familiar with Harvey Houses.” Marissa nodded. “So the hotel had a large dining room and kitchen?”

  “Very large.” Andrew passed over a floor plan, and she checked it out appreciatively. She couldn’t wait to see it in person.

  “Because so few people travel by train these days, there’s not a need for a hotel that serves that exact same purpose,” Tony went on. “Amtrak runs nearby, but that’s different. What we’ve been talking about doing is expanding the hotel to add on some conference rooms and a ballroom. We’d make it suitable for business conventions, wedding receptions, costume balls, and the like. We want everything to look as authentic to the time period as possible, but also convenient and functional.”

  “And when do you want to open?” Marissa asked.

  “Well, that’s the tricky thing,” Andrew said. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. “In order to make this fly, I’ve just promised my board of directors a certain date by which we’d see a profit.”

&nbs
p; She raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  He looked sheepish. “And that means we need to open in six months.”

  “Six months?” Marissa nearly fell out of her chair. She glanced over at Tabs, who seemed equally shocked. “And I’m guessing you’re redoing the entire thing—bedrooms too?”

  “Yes.” Andrew held up his hands. “I should tell you, I’m fully prepared to bring in as many contractors and carpenters as we need to in order to make this happen.”

  “But . . . six months . . .” She rubbed her forehead as she studied the floor plan. It was condensed and showed the main floor on one side of the sheet and the bedrooms on the other side of the sheet. “You said a convention center? How many bedrooms are you adding?”

  “We haven’t talked to the architects yet, but we thought we’d add on a hundred.”

  “A hundred? Mr. Brody, are you trying to give me a heart attack? How are they supposed to draw up the plans, get approval from the city, bring in supplies, and make all this happen in six months?”

  “So we’re not on a first-name basis anymore?” He smiled. “I understand this is a crazy idea, Marissa—”

  “‘Crazy’ isn’t the right word. You’re looking for ‘impossible.’ It just can’t happen this fast. And you want to turn a profit after bringing in that many extra contractors?” She stood up. “I’m sorry. I would have loved to help you out, but you’re clearly not thinking this through, and I can’t afford to get myself or my company mixed up in something that’s bound to fail. I need something steadier at this point. I wish you luck.”

  She turned and walked out of the office, Tabs right behind her. She couldn’t believe it—how could such intelligent-looking men actually be so stupid? She had just reached out to touch the down button for the elevator when Andrew caught up to them.

  “Wait,” he said, touching her elbow. “I realize how this looks—that we’re crazy, that we’re dumb for thinking we can make this work, that we’re not taking everything into account. Believe me, I’ve had every one of those thoughts myself, but what it all comes down to is this—that hotel is special, and it deserves a second chance. I had to sell my soul to the board of directors—well, I didn’t actually sell it because I don’t think anyone wants it, but I had to do some fancy talking to get them to agree to this chance. I’ve sold stocks and bonds in the last hour and a half. I’ve made dozens of phone calls to release the cash. That’s because I believe in this dream, Marissa, and I’m begging you to believe in it too. Will you come out to the hotel with me tomorrow morning and let me show you around? You won’t have to daydream anymore—you’ll get to see it for real.”

  She shouldn’t have been listening to the ramblings of a lunatic, but she looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity there. He really believed he was doing the right thing, and there was something mesmerizing about that. “All right,” she said after a long moment. “I’ll meet you there at ten.”

  “Thank you. I promise, you won’t regret this.” He flashed her a smile, turned and said goodbye to Tabs, and then disappeared back inside his office.

  “Wow,” Tabs said as soon as his door closed. “That was interesting on so many levels.”

  “What was up with you being so quiet in there? It was like you forgot how to talk.”

  “I was having fun watching the two of you.”

  Marissa waited until the elevator doors closed behind them before asking, “The two of us? What do you mean?”

  Tabs rolled her eyes. “The chemistry. Come on—it was roiling in there.”

  Marissa felt her cheeks go warm. “There was no chemistry.”

  “Liar. He’s amazingly hot, you’re amazingly hot, and you were amazingly hot in the same room together. I think this is going to be a very fun project.”

  “Except that I don’t see how we’re going to take it.” The doors opened, and they stepped off. “It’s impossible.”

  “It might be impossible for them to build it in that amount of time, but you can still provide the designs, can’t you?”

  “Well, of course, because those won’t take six months. But still, I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

  Their heels echoed in the parking garage as they walked toward Marissa’s car. “I don’t think they’ve got their hopes up—at least, I don’t think they’re misleading themselves. They know what they’re getting into,” Tabs replied.

  “Do they? Because they sound totally clueless to me.” Marissa beeped her car lock, and they both climbed in. “We’ll go check things out in the morning, and then we’ll see. But I’m not making any promises at this point. We’ve got to protect our reputation, whatever small one we have. We’ve worked hard to get it.”

  “You’re right. I agree—we shouldn’t do anything foolish.” Tabs settled into her seat and grinned. “This is better than a movie. I should bring some popcorn next time.”

  “You do, and I’ll dump it over your head,” Marissa replied as she started the engine. This wasn’t going to last long enough to turn into a romance. That’s all there was to it.

  ***

  “Do you have any other interior designers in mind?” Andrew asked Tony when he returned to his office. “I think we scared that one off.”

  “I think you scared that one off,” Beverly said wryly. She stood up and gathered her things. “I’ll head back to the office to get started on those other assignments, Mr. Espinozo.”

  “Thanks, Beverly,” Tony said, waving as she walked out.

  “What does she mean, I scared Marissa off?” Andrew loosened his tie. “I was just being straightforward.”

  “Something about your tendency to jump in with both feet before looking both ways,” Tony replied. “Why did you let the board talk you into opening in six months? You know they only did that to put you off—they thought for sure you wouldn’t go for it and you’d back down.”

  “That’s kind of a problem of mine. I don’t like to back down.”

  “But you could have compromised and settled on nine months, maybe. That would have been a more reasonable choice.” Tony shook his head. “You like rising to challenges, my friend, but that doesn’t mean you have to rise to every single challenge that’s presented to you.”

  “It’s a pride thing, I think. I don’t want people to realize I’m not as awesome as they think I am.” Andrew flopped back into his chair. “All right, where are we?”

  “I got a text from the housekeeping service saying they’re done, but that we owe them big time. The architect can meet with us at the hotel tomorrow at noon. And I’ve called in your favor with the city, and they’re willing to discuss greenlighting your permits as long as everything checks out.”

  “Thanks, Tony.” Andrew checked his watch. “Well, it’s time to go see Mr. Harker about that estate paperwork.”

  “Yep, and yet you’re not moving to stand up,” Tony replied.

  “I don’t want to go.” Andrew rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to take over all that stuff and become the next version of my father.”

  “Won’t the board be pleased that you’ll have more property to offset the risk of the hotel?” Tony asked.

  Andrew held up a hand. “I don’t want this estate connected with the hotel any more than we can help it,” he said. “The estate is my father’s money, but this business is my money, and I want to use my money to fix the hotel. It seems less corrupt that way.”

  Tony raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that your father got his money illegally?”

  “I’m saying that he wasn’t a very nice man. That’s not illegal, is it?”

  Tony shook his head. “Not illegal. Just unfortunate.”

  Andrew stood up, even though he’d just sat down. “Regardless of how he got his money, I want the hotel to be mine, really mine, and that’s how I’m approaching it. We’ll use Dad’s estate money for other things like sponsoring charities. That’s the best use of it, I think. We’ll take his legacy of greed and turn it into something more positive.”
He tightened his tie again. “Let’s go get this over with.”

  Chapter Four

  Marissa stood in the center of the lobby and spun in a circle, taking everything in. She’d never seen anything so beautiful, so intriguing in her life. It was very basic—practically no furniture, no rugs, only a few pictures remaining on the walls. That didn’t matter, though. She could see the bones, the soul of the place, and that was all that mattered.

  “What do you think?” Tabs asked, coming to her side.

  “I think that if I don’t have a hand in renovating this hotel, I’ll be regretting it on my deathbed,” Marissa replied.

  Tabitha gave her a skeptical look. “Really? You’d be talking about this on your deathbed?”

  “I’m sure of it. How could I pass this up? The history is screaming from these walls.”

  “When walls start screaming at me, that’s generally when I run,” Tabs replied. “You know they aren’t actually supposed to scream, right? No mouths.”

  “Oh, hush.” Marissa nudged her friend’s shoulder. “I’m doing this, you twerp. I have to.”

  “Yeah, I know you do. As soon as you got that derpy look on your face, I knew we were involved.”

  They turned as Andrew and Tony entered the lobby from the kitchen. “Well, what do you think?” Andrew said. “Have you had enough time alone to talk about it, or should I make up something else to show Tony so we can disappear again?”

  Marissa chuckled. “We’ve had enough time, although I appreciate the offer. You’re right—there’s something amazing about this place. I can’t promise you anything—that we’ll get it done, that we can get the supplies, etc., but I would love to help you with this hotel.”

  Andrew grinned. “Thank you. Tell me what you’re seeing in each room. I’d love to check out some samples as well, but we can take care of that later.”

  “For starters, we need to refinish all the wood flooring. Sand it down, new varnish.”