Her husband squinted and leaned in. “What?”
“The food,” she said, raising her voice.
“I can’t eat any more food,” he said, raising his voice right back.
Damon quirked an eyebrow at Kinsley, who was trying her best to keep a straight face. “Um, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said smoothly. “Please let me know if you need anything else while you’re staying with us. Oh, and remember, we’re going to have lemonade and cookies in the main seating area at four o’clock today, along with beginner’s mah-jongg lessons. Don’t forget to sign up.”
Mrs. Southcott turned to her husband. “Did you hear that, Joe?”
The old man scowled. “I’m not learning how to sew.”
Evidently Joe did not hear that.
Catching Damon’s smirk, Kinsley jabbed him with her elbow. “We’ll see you later, you two.” Once he and Kinsley were outside, she turned to him with a smile. “They’re celebrating their sixtieth wedding anniversary. They’re a cute couple, aren’t they?”
“Cute as a baby scorpion.”
She glared at him. “Oh, right. I forgot. You’re not a wedding person.”
“Not particularly.”
“Why? Were you ever engaged?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“No. Thank God.”
“Oh, come on, weddings aren’t that bad. Your parents obviously had a wedding.”
“Actually, can’t say for sure. I wasn’t invited,” he said with a wink.
She placed her hands on her stomach and gave him a ha-ha look, pretending to double over with laughter.
Yes. His parents had a wedding. But so what? They also had a loveless marriage, in his estimation. Not that his father had opened up and discussed that fact with him after his parents had divorced. But such was the way in the St. James family. No bearing of one’s soul in public, or in private. At least not anymore. And Kinsley didn’t seem to be getting that memo despite his clipped answers to her questions.
She tapped her chin with her index finger. “Hmm… Sounds to me like you were jilted in love.”
“Sounds to me like you’re grasping at straws. And how are you paying someone to teach mah-jongg today at the hotel, anyway? I don’t recall that particular line item in the budget.”
“It’s there. Under special activities. Nice diversion, by the way,” she said, giving him a knowing glance. “And actually, what I would like to do is bring in some more locals to showcase their businesses during the four o’clock social time. There is a cute little ceramic craft store downtown. Offering guests to sign up for an art class would be a fun thing to try. Some places I’m sure will do it for free—at least initially—but some I’ll need to pay. I really think that if I want this hotel to succeed I’ll need to have the help of the community behind me. Once you have respect from the other merchants, you’re in.”
Something about gaining respect piqued Damon’s interest. Her idea had a lot of merit. That and seeing her handle the guests and hotel sparked a sudden idea of his own that could benefit both of them if she was really passionate about holding on to the hotel. If it really did start to become a staple in the community, there was a chance it could have some value. Enough to please even his father and convince him to keep the property as an investment.
He stopped walking and gave her a direct look. “I like what I’m hearing. So much so that I’d like to offer you the time to put your plans in action.”
She blinked. “How much time?”
“Until the end of summer. I can hold off the board to wait on any decision until then.”
Kinsley’s eyes widened. “Really? Three months isn’t a lot of time, but I think with some of the new ideas I’ve been tinkering with and an increased budget, I—”
“I didn’t say anything about increasing your budget.”
Her mouth opened then closed again. “But…how can I do anything constructive without more money?”
He grinned. “That’s what I’m paying you to figure out.”
“But that’s impossible. I’ll never do it.”
“Well, no, not with that attitude.”
She jammed a hand on her hip. “Damon, I’m serious.”
“So am I. Look, I’ll help you any way I can. But without real proof of financial stability, the board won’t give you one extra dime. We can talk about the future of the hotel in three months. Take it or leave it.”
The ultimatum hung in the air like week-old seafood. They stared each other down for almost a full minute before Kinsey finally opened her mouth.
“Of course I’ll take it,” she grumbled.
He smiled, slowly letting out the breath he’d been holding. If Kinsley was all in to making a real change, he’d be in it, too. Especially if there was a chance the board could look at the property—and him—in a new light.
Kinsley huffed and looked away, frustration oozing out of every pore. She marched along the boardwalk next to him, not bothering to engage in any more conversation. Her peach-colored lips pursed together in an adorable pout as the ocean breeze teased a few hairs out of her pulled-back hairdo. He had to admit it: Kinsley Roberts was a beautiful woman normally, but pissed off, she was spectacular.
Despite her beauty and the hinting to her needing more money, he wasn’t about to bite. He couldn’t. After all, business was business. He was already on thin ice with his father for buying this property in the first place. But when Wade had approached him for help, Damon couldn’t say no.
“Here we are,” she muttered, walking toward a building that looked more like a beach hut than a convenience store. She wandered in toward the back and picked up three different newspapers. When she approached the cashier, a tall, well-built man wearing a Cape Harmony baseball cap appeared next to her.
“Your money’s no good here, hot stuff,” the man said, whipping out his wallet.
She looked up and her face brightened. “Oh, you’re so sweet, but you don’t have to do that, Mike.”
Hot stuff? Kinsley shot the man such a brilliant smile, Damon’s sudden good mood automatically soured. Who is this guy, and why does she look so damn pleased to see him?
Damon’s expression must have mirrored his thoughts, since Kinsley chose at that time to acknowledge his presence again.
“Uh, Mike, this is the new owner of The Harbor Light and my boss, Damon St. James. Damon, this is Mike Irving. He owns Daphne’s Taffy here on the boardwalk.”
Mike puffed out his chest and immediately stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet ya, Damon. I bet you’re super impressed with our girl here.”
Damon shook the man’s hand, narrowing his eyes. “Oh yes. Our girl here is impressive for sure.”
“Smart as a whip, this one. Everyone on the boardwalk is happy she’s back in town and taking over The Harbor Light. Plus, we just loved her idea of partnering up with the hotel.”
“Partnering up?” Damon’s gaze slowly shifted to Kinsley, whose face turned three shades of pink.
Mike bobbed his head. “Yeah, didn’t she mention it to you? Kinsley worked out a deal to buy our saltwater taffy at a bulk discount. She’s having the maid service leave them on the pillows instead of chocolate. She’s clever and pretty,” he said, swinging an arm around Kinsley’s shoulders.
“Very,” Damon commented, keeping his gaze trained on her. Damon wasn’t lying on either count. Kinsley was playing up the South Jersey beach atmosphere for her guests in the hopes of making their stay a unique experience. He had a feeling he was right about underestimating her ability as a general manager. But only time would tell.
“You married?” Mike asked, sizing him up.
Damon lifted his brows. “No, I’m not.”
Mike tilted his head and squinted. “Girlfriend back home?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Is that so?” Mike said with a hard frown. “Kinsley used to wear my class ring in high school, you know.”
Kinsley let out a choked laugh. “One time, and only because you
asked me to try it on. Thanks for the papers, Mike,” she said, ducking out of Mike’s embrace and scooping them up off the counter. “But we have to go. Duty calls.”
“Yeah, see ya later, Kin. Tell Wade I said hey.” He dipped his chin at Damon. “Nice meeting you, man. Take care of my Kinsley. She’s a keeper.”
Now it’s my Kinsley? “Oh, I’ll be sure to take care of her,” Damon said, placing a protective hand on her back. He knew touching her like that was inappropriate—maybe even a bit childish—but the perverse pleasure of seeing the expression on Taffy Guy’s face made any admonishment from Kinsley totally worth it.
Kinsley tugged Damon out of the store behind her. “Sorry about that,” she said once they were heading back toward the hotel. “Small-town stuff. Mike and I go way back.”
He was tempted to ask how far back and in what circumstance, but he kept those questions carefully perched on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he asked, “Is the saltwater taffy in the budget as well?”
“It will be. I just need to finagle a few things,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “I’m sure you New York corporate bigwig types do that kind of stuff all the time.”
“Why, yes. In fact, we bigwigs love to hear the word ‘finagle’ with regards to fiscal budgets,” he said drily.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to finagle anything if you just went ahead and increased my budget.”
He stuck his fingers in his ears. “Not hearing you.”
She laughed. “Oh dear. I can see this town is having an effect on you already.”
Damon’s smile withered. He doubted his joking mood had anything to do with the town and was more to do with Kinsley herself. Which was troubling. He normally had more self-control. But every time he was around her, she had a way of making him feel relaxed and unguarded. Even his fingers itched to touch her again. He easily forgot himself and what he came here to do, which was ultimately to turn a profit for the company.
“Um, yeah. All the same, I’d like to get a monthly cost estimate of that candy,” he told her, feeling a desperate need to bring things back to a businesslike state.
She shrugged. “You’re the boss.”
Yes. He was. And he needed to remember that.
…
Kinsley had only been working with Damon for three days and already she needed a drink. Too bad she wouldn’t be able to get one at Frank & Kathy’s Bistro—or anywhere else in town for that matter, considering no alcohol was permitted to be sold anywhere on the island. Cape Harmony was founded by four Baptist ministers who had originally made it a Christian retreat, then out of respect of the four’s wishes, town officials had kept it a dry town ever since.
It was one of the things locals and vacationers liked best, since it kept Cape Harmony such a family resort. But after the day she’d had, Kinsley walked into the bistro with a prickle of disappointment, knowing that a large glass of club soda with lemon was no substitute for the glass of Chardonnay she really longed for.
Kathy O’Neil, the owner, came up to her and gave her a hug. “Girl, you look like you could use a drink.”
Kinsley chuckled. “I could. But I’m settling for one of Frank’s eight-ounce hamburgers instead. Extra fries.”
“Wow. Must have been one heck of a day at The Harbor Light. Don’t tell me a pipe burst.”
“Nothing that dramatic. Just normal hotel business stuff.” If leveling my family’s hotel could be considered normal.
“Well, it’s good to see you around town again. And if you ever need anything, you let me know. Your mom was an angel and always supported us when we first opened. We’ll support you, too.”
Kinsley smiled, her heart squeezing in gratitude. “Thanks, Kathy. I really appreciate it.” She turned and looked around the restaurant. “Is Arden here yet? I’m supposed to meet her.”
Kathy shook her head, sending her spiky blond bangs flapping. “She’s not. But your brother is.”
“He is?”
“Yep. Comes here at least three times a week by himself. Same exact days. Sits in the same corner table every time. If you don’t mind my saying so, that boy needs a woman.”
Kinsley frowned. Maybe Wade did need a woman. Since she’d moved back to town only a few months ago, she’d never considered her brother’s private life before now. Maybe she’d been a bit selfish. Wade had been dealt a bad hand, with his wife passing away only a few years into their marriage. But it had been so long ago, and she figured he had Dad for company and support. But then, with their dad’s passing and then trouble balancing his veterinary work with running the hotel, it was no wonder he hadn’t had time to date.
“Where is he?” she asked Kathy. “I’ll go sit with him while I wait for Arden.”
Kathy gestured to the back of the bistro by the kitchen doors. Wade had a sandwich and newspaper in front of him. Based on the brooding level of his demeanor and how low his baseball cap was tilted over his face, Wade definitely looked like a man who wanted no part of small-talk, a girlfriend, or of society in general tonight.
Kinsley smiled. Too bad, big brother. “Thanks, Kathy. I see him.”
She wandered over to him, briefly stopping once to say hello to a couple she knew were staying at The Harbor Light this week. Once she reached her brother’s table, she pulled out a chair and plopped down.
“I’m not in the mood,” he said, not bothering to look up from his paper.
“Not in the mood for what? Your only sister? Talking? I just wanted to see how my big brother was doing.”
Wade folded the paper and finally looked up. “Talking is fine. But if I have to hear another lecture from you about selling the hotel, then I’m leaving.”
Despite the bad-boy attitude Wade was tossing around like confetti, Kinsley couldn’t help but notice how tired his eyes were. Wade was a handsome man, but he looked…beaten down. He’d obviously been under a lot of stress, no thanks to her.
“No lecture tonight,” she told him. She sent him a wry smile. “I’ll save those for Damon St. James.”
Wade’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”
“I do want to talk to you, but first, I want to tell you that I’m sorry.”
“What?” Her brother squinted at her. “You’re sorry? Sorry for what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged, suddenly feeling guilty, depressed, and just a little bit helpless. “Everything. Maybe you were right to sell.”
“Okay, what’s going on?”
Tears unexpectedly sprang to her eyes. “It doesn’t look good, Wade. I’ve been trying. I really have. But barring some supernatural phenomenon, I just don’t see me convincing Damon to invest money into the hotel.”
Wade reached out and placed a hand on top of hers. “Hey, don’t give up. If anyone can work a miracle, it’s you. Remember when they were going to close the animal rescue clinic in town, and you and Miranda went door to door to get donations and people to sign the petition?”
His memory of her and his wife coaxed a smile from her lips. Miranda had been a good friend. Had been a good wife to Wade. “Yeah. I remember that, too. I had a lot more energy in high school. Plus, it looked great on my college resume.”
He chuckled. “Bull. You got it done because you wanted to help me and because you believed in what you were doing. As much as I hate to admit it, you can be very resourceful when you want to be, and quite stubborn. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that you’re a brainiac.”
“You make me sound as exciting as a potato.”
Wade picked up one of his French fries and dangled it in front of her. “Everybody loves potatoes in one form or another.”
She snatched the fry from his fingers then tossed it in her mouth. Then grabbed another off his plate. “You know, even if I may be jobless soon, I’m still glad I moved back.”
“Why, because now you can mooch my fries anytime you want?”
“Well there’s that,” she said, stopping mid-chew to grin at him, “and it’s nice being closer to you. I wish I had co
me back sooner to help you with Dad, though. I want you to know that I had no idea he’d been sick and needed money for his medical expenses. Whenever I spoke with him, he seemed fine.”
Wade sat back, the smile from his lips gone. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here now, and I’m glad.”
“I’m glad, too. And you know what? I’m going to listen to you for once. I do believe in what I’m doing. It’s going to be a challenge, but I’m not going to give up on The Harbor Light. I’m going to fight for it. For us. For Dad.”
“You can do it, sis.”
“Ha! I wish Damon St. James was as easy to convince as you are.”
“Oh, Damon’s all right,” he said with a shrug. “He may seem tough, but he’s had some family issues to go through, too. Like we’ve all had. I’m sure if you sit down and explain your plan, he’ll listen.”
She snorted. “Easier said than done.”
“Well, just don’t underestimate yourself as far as he’s concerned. You have a good head for business on your shoulders. I should have asked your advice sooner.”
Wade’s expression turned melancholy, even though his words were encouraging. Clearly, he felt bad leaving her to fight the fight on her own. But that was the last thing she wanted him to worry about. He looked as if he still shouldered a ton of responsibility already—and he’d been doing it alone for all this time.
She glanced down at his half-eaten steak sandwich then up into his handsome face. A face with sad brown eyes that partly resembled her own. “Are you seeing anyone, Wade?”
He choked on a fry. “Oh, man. Who wants to know?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“I do, dumb-dumb.”
“In that case, no. But if anyone else should ask, then yes.”
“Why yes?”
“Because of Judy Tavish.”
Kinsley scrunched up her nose. “Judy who?”
“Tavish. You know. She owns that coffee shop down the street, Drip N Sip. She apparently thinks she’s a matchmaker in her spare time.”
“Oh, her?” Kinsley smiled, recalling the nice gray-haired woman who made a mean mocha cappuccino. “But she’s so sweet and chatty. I get my coffee and muffins there in the morning sometimes.”
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