by Nina Crespo
She ignored him and smiled at Julie. “If it’s not too much trouble, may I have some coffee?”
“Of course.” Julie grinned broadly. “What about orange juice? Roy has to squeeze the oranges, but he won’t mind.”
“Just coffee, but thanks.”
Aiden shot Julie a puzzled look. “You told me I couldn’t have orange juice.”
Julie’s mouth flattened. “Since you’re insisting, I guess Roy can make some for you. I’ll bring the coffee.” She spun on her heels and walked off.
Aiden shifted his gaze to Delanie.
Her heart briefly skipped a beat. Seven years ago, the way he’d stared at her had made her lose herself in the warmth of his eyes. It was a practiced tactic, no doubt. “Beth Granger isn’t meeting with you. She’s hired me to assist in the sale of her property.”
He slid the folio beside him a little farther down. “So, you’re Beth Granger’s lawyer?”
“No. I’m her business advisor.”
Julie delivered their coffees. She smiled at Delanie. “Let me know if you’d like anything else.”
Aiden raised his hand to catch Julie’s attention, but the server walked away.
It took all of Delanie’s discipline not to laugh at his bewildered expression. The gossip about Kingman Partners taking advantage of Benjamin Granger had obviously spread.
A little public blowback for Aiden and his brother’s shadiness was more than well deserved. The latest articles she’d read praised Kingman Partners for being leaders in the hospitality investment industry. It could easily lead some people to believe they were different from their father, Gerard. The fact that Aiden and his brother had tricked Benjamin Granger into agreeing to sell the property for less than it was worth, however, proved they were just like him.
Aiden slipped two sugar packets from the container in the middle of the table and slid them her way. “Business advisor? That’s a switch from your hotel management ambitions.”
Delanie put the two packets back into the container. It would suck to drink black coffee, but he’d slid the packets over to her like he still knew her. He didn’t.
As she took a sip from her cup, she fought a grimace. “It’s not too far off the mark. I mainly work with small properties in the lodging industry. It’s my job to advise them in their business decisions.”
Aiden stirred his coffee. “I see.” He stared at her as if he were cataloging every nuance of her face.
What was he thinking? Was he noticing the superficial changes, like the fact that her hair was shorter or that she now wore more makeup than just berry lip gloss? Was he calculating the odds of weakening her defenses a second time, since he’d been able to do it before? Irritation sparked inside of Delanie. If Aiden thought he could get anything past her, he was hugely mistaken. She was no longer the naïve girl who’d fallen for him and his charm.
Aiden set down the spoon. “I’m assuming from that last statement you have questions about Kingman Partners’ interest in Echo Pines?”
“No questions, I just have new terms. You made Benjamin Granger a shitty offer before he died that, luckily, he didn’t sign. I’m reviewing the operation and accurately assessing its full value.”
“I think we have a misunderstanding about Kingman Partners’ intentions in buying this place.”
“The only misunderstanding is you thinking you could bamboozle Benjamin Granger into agreeing to sell this place to you for nearly nothing and get away with it.” Delanie leaned in. “Let me guess. The plan was that once you owned Echo Pines, you were going to make your own valuation of the operation and then sell it for close to triple the amount to anyone willing to pay your price. In the midst of your glorious payday, you were going to conveniently forget Benjamin’s hope that you would preserve the retreat and the jobs of the people who currently work here. Am I right?”
The older woman in the other booth behind Delanie harrumphed loudly. “Damn crook.”
The raising of Aiden’s brow was almost imperceptible. He clearly couldn’t refute her accusation.
Gotcha. Satisfaction zinged through Delanie. Stopping companies like Kingman Partners from taking advantage of others pleased her, and putting Aiden in his place, admittedly, gave her a thrill.
“From your silence. I’ll take that as a yes.” Delanie sat back in the seat. “So, here’s what’s going to happen now. I’m going to come up with a fair price for Echo Pines. Should you choose to make a serious offer, I’ll consider it along with everyone else’s.”
As Aiden leaned in, the scent of his cologne wafted across the table. It wasn’t the youthful, sporty scent he’d worn years ago. This one was sensual with notes of musk and amber that practically screamed full-grown, confident man.
“There’s a major flaw with that plan,” Aiden said. “Kingman Partners is the best company to take over Echo Pines.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to prove it.”
“We offered five hundred thousand. We’ll go to seven hundred if Beth signs the papers tonight.”
“Add at least two million to that and put it in writing that you’ll make good on your promises to keep Echo intact as a retreat, and you’ll be in the ballpark of where the bidding will start.”
“Let me consult with our advisors and get back to you.”
“You do that, and as I said, we’ll consider it along with all of our other offers.”
His expression remained cool but determination filled his eyes. “Kingman Partners deserves a chance to renegotiate terms. Let’s set up another meeting tomorrow to discuss it.”
“Sorry, I don’t have time. I have to get back to my office in Seattle. I’m flying out of Atlanta in the morning, but feel free to call my assistant so he can add you to the list of prospective buyers.”
Julie plunked a glass of orange juice and a platter of two sunny-side up eggs and bacon in front of Aiden.
Delanie sat back. Aiden hated his eggs that way. He preferred scrambled. Or maybe one thing about him had changed.
Disgust flashed over his face. “I didn’t order that.”
Julie glared. “You asked for my recommendation and that’s it. Let me guess, now because you don’t like it, you expect us to give you breakfast for free?”
Aiden scowled. “Hold on a minute. I didn’t say anything about wanting a comped meal. I just didn’t get the chance to specify how I like my eggs.”
“I’ll take care of the bill.” Delanie picked up her bag and stood. She slipped a twenty and her business card from a side pocket. She gave the twenty to Julie but looked to him. “Consider me paying for breakfast a thank-you for coming all this way to receive just what you deserve for your unfair handshake agreement with Benjamin Granger.” She dropped her card on the table. “Nothing.”
Aiden couldn’t take his eyes off of Delanie as she strode out of the café.
Damn. She was still confident, even more beautiful, and just as stubborn as she’d been years ago. And he was more than just a little intrigued despite her labeling him a criminal. Even with her determination to make his job as difficult as possible, all he could think about was kissing her and finding out if her lips still tasted like berries.
Aiden stood. As he scooped up his coat, he barely avoided Julie’s elbow as she hurriedly cleared the table. Delanie’s business card dropped to the floor and he retrieved it. Her last name was Marquette now—not Clark?
Aiden grabbed his padfolio and hurried out of the restaurant.
Outside, gravel spit from the tires of Delanie’s white compact as she sped from the parking lot and turned right.
So, she still drove like a speed demon. Aiden slipped her card into his pocket. He could chase her down and insist they finish their conversation. The odds of her pulling over to talk to him, though, were practically nonexistent. From the look in her eyes, they were much higher that she’d run him off the road and enjoy herself while doing it.
As he went to his car, Aiden took his cell from the inside pocket of his jacket.
He got in and put the coat and folio on the front passenger seat. Time to give King the good news. Aiden grimaced and cranked the engine. As warm air streamed from the vents to erase the chill, the car’s Bluetooth system immediately linked to his cell. He speed-dialed King, who answered on the fourth ring.
“Told you it wouldn’t take long.” King chuckled. “Are you on your way to the notary’s office in Atlanta? I told him you’d call when you were a half hour out. By the way, I agreed to pay double his fee because we interrupted his weekend.”
“I’m on my way to Atlanta, but without Beth.” Aiden backed up and turned the car toward the parking lot exit.
“Where is she?”
At the two-lane road, Aiden turned the same direction Delanie had a moment earlier. “She’s not signing the contract. You were right, she hired representation.”
“Damn it. A lawyer. I knew it.”
“No.” As Aiden sped down the road, he slipped his sunglasses from the cup holder beside him and put them on. “Try business advisor.”
“That’s even worse. Let me guess. It’s some second-tier up-and-comer who thinks he’s hot shit because he took Negotiating 101 in college. What’s his name and what firm is he from? Maybe we can cut through the bullshit and talk to the person who’s really the lead on this.”
“Not a guy, a woman.” Aiden loosened his tie and popped open the top buttons of his shirt. It didn’t seem real that he’d talked to her. “It’s Delanie.”
“You’re breaking up. It’s a poor connection. Who did you say?”
“You heard me right. Delanie, as in Delanie Clark, but now, she’s Delanie Marquette.”
“Hold on.” The sound on King’s end grew muffled. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll be back in a minute. Something’s come up with Aiden.”
A door slammed shut. Most likely, King had gone into his home office.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” King’s tone was low but it reflected a nuclear level of agitation. “So basically, we might as well kiss Echo goodbye. Shit. I’m not losing this one. I’m flying down there tonight. Maybe I can still salvage this thing.”
“Like hell you will. I can handle it.”
“How? By offering Delanie your head and your dick on a platter?”
“Take it down a notch and listen. The reason discussions broke down is because Delanie believes Benjamin Granger was coerced into accepting an amount that was below the property’s value.”
“Coerced? Wait—is she claiming that we were trying to cheat him?” Incredulity rose in King’s tone. “Granger wanted to sell Echo Pines. He contacted me about selling it and came up with the dollar amount himself. It wasn’t my job to negotiate better terms on his behalf.”
“Apparently, he didn’t share his wishes with anyone else. As far as Beth, Delanie, and everyone else is concerned, we were the ones who somehow convinced Granger to sell.”
King huffed a sardonic laugh. “From Delanie’s perspective, I’m sure the sentiment is more like we went out of our way to screw him.”
“If the situation were in reverse, and we were in Beth’s and Delanie’s shoes, we might think the same thing.” Aiden took the on-ramp for the interstate and merged into the right lane. “Even if we didn’t have a history with Delanie, for some people, the Kingman name still has a certain reputation thanks to Dad.”
Even after years on their own, some still believed they followed their father’s business philosophy: go for the jugular and claim what you want, no matter the cost. Bitterness rose in Aiden’s throat. He’d signed off on that method until the Clearmount deal. For the first time in his career, he’d witnessed the consequences of that philosophy, and he’d hated himself for being a part of what had happened to Delanie and her father.
“Hey,” King called out. “You still there? How much is the asking price for Echo now?”
“She has to complete a valuation on the property, but she mentioned two million. But she’s also opening the sale of the property to other buyers.”
“Great.” Sarcasm laced King’s tone. “Just fucking great. So even if we make a competitive offer, Delanie could still choose someone else in retaliation for what happened with Clearmount.”
“I just need to convince her that our intention really is to renovate Echo Pines and respect Granger’s wishes to preserve the land and keep the current staff.”
“How will you do that?”
“Not sure yet, but I will.”
“What did you say? Damn it, Aiden. The connection is breaking up. I’m losing you.”
“I said, don’t worry about it.”
King released a long breath. “This isn’t some random person you’re doing business with. It’s Delanie.” What King wasn’t saying was clear. It was doubly important to make sure she understood they were nothing like Gerard.
King had more to say, but every other word was lost as the connection grew weaker. Frustration over the situation made Aiden press the gas pedal down harder. The car picked up speed. “I’ve got this. Go back to Sophie. I’ll call you tonight with an update.” With that, he disconnected the call.
Kingman Partners was different than TriRoyal. He was different now, too, and somehow, he’d make Delanie see that. He had to—business deal or not.
seven
DELANIE WHEELED HER ice-blue carry-on through the sliding glass doors and across the carpeted lobby of the Piedmont Hotel. The fresh, clean smell of impending snowfall wafted in after her. Funny. She’d hoped to escape bad weather in Atlanta, but recently, snow had become an increasing possibility in the area.
Tween and teenaged girls wearing green sweatshirts with bulldogs emblazoned on the front nearly knocked Delanie over as they scurried toward the door. She shifted left, narrowly avoiding a tall potted plant, and headed to the reception desk to join the line of four women waiting to check in.
Behind her, more teen and tween girls, dressed in cheerleading uniforms or casual clothing adorned with various mascots, took over the groupings of beige chairs throughout the space. They sat on the cushioned seats and backs, as well as on low cream-colored coffee tables that stood in between them. Their excited chatter reverberated off the walls.
Five adults, obviously chaperones, appeared frazzled as they attempted to keep the girls in one place.
More power to them. Delanie pushed the strap of her tote farther up her shoulder while juggling a white food bag that contained a turkey sandwich. She used to possess that same level of energy. A soft chuckle escaped her as two of the girls effortlessly dropped to the floor into a split. She was clearly a wimp compared to them. Instead of excitement, now all she craved was sleep.
She really should have brought in at least one of the four boxes in her trunk to see what she was in for with Benjamin’s records, but she just didn’t have the energy tonight. She’d anticipated nice, printed reports—not handwritten, loose paperwork. Other business advisors might take a wild guess on the financial information and move on to save themselves the trouble, but her conscience would never allow it. Tomorrow, before she went to the airport, she’d ship them to her office so Edison could work his organizational magic.
As the line shortened by two people, an image of the sumptuous white-duvet-covered bed Delanie had spotted on the hotel’s e-mailed confirmation notice grew more vivid in her mind. She could not wait to get some sleep.
A long moment later, a young brunette woman at the two-lane check-in desk smiled and beckoned Delanie forward. “Hello! Welcome to the Piedmont Hotel.”
“Hi. I have a reservation. My name is Delanie Marquette.”
The woman tapped away on the keyboard. “There you are. You’re with us for one night.” As she stared at the computer screen, her smile dimmed. “One moment, please. I need to confirm something about your room.” She went to the end of the desk to make a call.
Uh-oh. Confirm. Meaning something was wrong.
A discreetly placed door to the left behind the desk opened.
A good-looking salt-and-pepper-hai
red man immaculately dressed in a blue suit and tie emerged.
He conferred with the woman, then went to Delanie. “Hello, Ms. Marquette. My name is Tanner Blake. I’m the front desk manager.”
“Is there a problem with my reservation?”
“A slight one.” He studied the computer screen. “We experienced a system glitch, which caused some double bookings. On top of that, there’s a cheerleading competition in town, so we don’t have any available rooms—but not to worry! We’ll secure one for you at the LaGrande Hotel.” He flashed a congenial smile. “No change in room rate, of course. They’ll be expecting you.”
She’d anticipated kicking off her heels, taking off her bra, and eating her sandwich in the next ten minutes in her room. “How far is it from here?”
“A very short drive. It’s just a few blocks down the street.” Smiling, he picked up the phone. “They’ll take good care of you. You’ll be in your room in no time.”
Twenty minutes later, Delanie valeted her car then trudged across a light dusting of snow into the sleek, modern white-tiled lobby of the LaGrande.
Impatience and hunger gnawing in her belly fueled her steps.
The light-haired clerk behind the curved front desk greeted her with a smile.
Before he could start his welcome spiel, she read his name tag and jumped in. “Hi, Greg, my name is Delanie Marquette. I was sent over from the Piedmont because they’re overbooked. I believe you have a room for me?”
“Yes. Hold on a minute, please.” He picked up the phone next to him and made a call.
As Greg listened on the phone, his expression morphed from pleasant to all business. “I understand. Yes. Absolutely. I’ll double check on that.” He flashed Delanie a customer-friendly smile. “Ms. Marquette. Housekeeping has a few more finishing touches to complete.”
It was nearly five in the evening and the room wasn’t ready? Trying to stay positive, Delanie ran through a plausible list of why that was: Extra busy day at the hotel. Housekeeping was restocking the minibar with much-needed wine. They somehow knew she liked lots of extra pillows on the bed and they were making sure she had them.