“Several weeks ago, Chas indicated that he would be moving to New York to take over his family’s business empire.” When she paused for a moment, Echo and Izzy exchanged nervous glances and Kel reached for his wife’s hand.
“Fortunately for all of us, he’s found a way to manage Beckett Holdings without having to make the move to New York,” she beamed, and a collective sigh of relief was released from many present. “There will, however, be some significant changes coming up.”
Echo reached for Kel’s hand this time, and seemed to hold her breath, waiting for Carla to continue.
“Traveling to places all over the country and all over the world to work with clients has worn me out. When Missy and Chas first mentioned moving, I offered to buy the inn from them, and now, even though they aren’t leaving Calgon, they have agreed to grant my wish to settle down, and are allowing me to buy the inn.” She raised her glass again, this time to accept congratulations all around.
“Maggie, dear lady, it is my fervent hope that you will stay on as innkeeper, since I know nothing about this business,” she chuckled.
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving,” the silver-haired innkeeper smiled gently. “Thank you for allowing me to stay.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She then turned to Spencer. “And you, my hunky handyman… I realize that you have certain… security obligations to provide to the heir of the Beckett empire, but in your spare time, I’m hoping you’ll agree to keep things shipshape around here.”
“It’ll be my pleasure, ma’am,” the Marine nodded.
“Good. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself,” she teased, drawing laughter from the group.
“Now, let us toast to old friends, new beginnings, and plenty of reasons to be thankful this year.”
Everyone raised their glass and sipped to toast, and Izzy’s heart leapt when she glanced over, finding Spencer gazing at her in a most interesting way.
“What about you, Chas?” Echo asked, when Carla was seated and food was passing around the table. “Are you going to stay in law enforcement? Will you be able to do that and run your father’s companies at the same time?”
“That, dear lady, is an announcement for another day,” he smiled enigmatically, and Tim, in a rare show of emotion, raised his eyebrows to the top of his forehead in surprise.
“Stop staring, Timmy, and pass me the potatoes,” Fiona nudged her boss.
“Don’t call me that,” was the automatic response.
Copyright Summer Prescott 2016
Toffee Apple Killer: Book 11 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series Page 11