“I haven’t booked anywhere yet,” Tom told her.
“Take her to The Driftwood at the marina,” Linda suggested. “It’s quiet. The booth seats are private. They have a candle on every table, and the waitstaff doesn’t hover. You can hear yourself talk. The food is excellent. Their grilled snapper is the best on the coast.”
“The Driftwood,” Tom repeated. “I’ll look into it, thanks, love.”
“You won’t regret it,” Linda assured him.
“What would I have done without you, sweetheart?” Tom murmured.
“Panicked and canceled the date,” Linda teased him. “Then lived the rest of your life as a grumpy, lonely old man.”
Tom laughed. He shook his head and pulled the office door open. “I’ll see you and the kids at Heart House at seven.”
Tom left the office, pulling the door closed behind him.
He walked back through the quiet corridor of Hearts Hotel, past the front desk, and out into the warm afternoon light. Tom climbed into his truck and sat for a moment with both hands on the wheel.
The knot that had been sitting in his chest since the moment Lila had landed in his arms had eased. Not vanished. He was a man who had been a widower for five years, and the easing of any knot of that size took its own time to untangle. But it had eased, and the breath he drew in the parking lot of Hearts Hotel was the first full breath he had taken since he had walked out of Reilly’s that afternoon.
Then a smile split his face.
“Tomorrow night, I have a date,” Tom said out loud as he turned the key in the ignition and started the truck.
Suddenly, he was looking forward to the next night,
DARIUS
Darius held the phone to his ear and watched the bay glitter beyond the wide windows of the upstairs office.
“Send the second letter out this afternoon, Marsha,” Darius instructed his administrator. “Make it the same as the first one. It must be polite but formal, and as a follow-up to our previous correspondence, expressing our continued interest. Ensure he is made aware that our standing offer is still on the table with the revised figure I sent through last week.”
“Yes, Mr. Wayne,” Marsha replied. “I’ll use the same wording and the same format, then have the courier deliver it tomorrow morning.”
“Good,” Darius approved. “Let me know once it has been delivered.”
“Of course, Mr. Wayne. Anything else?” Marsha enquired.
“No, that’s all for now,” Darius told her. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“Have a lovely afternoon, Mr. Wayne.” Marsha hung up.
Darius set the phone down on the desk, leaning back in the plush office chair.
He drew in a slow breath and rolled his shoulder where the tension had settled in. The second letter would arrive tomorrow at the property he needed to buy. The owner had not responded to the first one. He had not responded to any of the calls Marsha had made over the past few months. The man simply was not engaging.
Darius’s phone vibrated against the desk, and he glanced at it. The tension immediately stiffening his shoulders. The name on the screen made his jaw tighten before he reached the green button.
Baxter Johnson.
Darius let the phone ring a few more times while he steadied himself. Then he picked up.
“Hello, Baxter,” Darius greeted, his tone flat.
“Hello, cousin,” Baxter said in that smooth, easy voice which grated along every one of Darius’s nerves. “I hope I’m not interrupting your vacation.”
“What do you want, Baxter?” Darius pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the desk.
“Just checking in on the big important project,” Baxter replied. “I know you’ve been getting nowhere with the owner of the last properties for the project.” There was a slight pause. “Do you know the man is in serious financial trouble? We’ve all seen the public filings. He’s barely keeping the lights on. Why are we still being polite about this?”
