“In due course,” he said. “If you want to take over, you need to know what is involved in running the place.”
“I can do this.” She shut the folder and returned it to the tabletop. “I can run the resort. It’s in my blood.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I’m serious. It’s my blood, not yours.”
He didn’t correct her. Their marriage had been against Dad’s advice. Within a few months, she had regretted the whole situation. As she fell more in love with her husband, he seemed intent on ingratiating himself with her father more than ever. She found herself the odd woman out. Everything always worked out in Dad’s favor. Even now, he continued to pull the strings and make them dance to his tune. “If this is a discussion of nature versus nurture, I have the advantage of both.”
“Genetics notwithstanding, you need a general grasp of all the layers of the business. I have firsthand experience at every level. I can appreciate how my decisions reverberate through the ranks.”
“How I run the Inn won’t follow some strict set of arbitrary guidelines. It’ll be more…” she studied his face. She knew the perfect word to set his teeth on edge. “Collaborative.”
He flinched.
She was probably petty for how much she enjoyed his squirms. No doubt, he was imagining sharing circles and teambuilding therapy. The victory was short-lived.
“Making money isn’t running a democracy,” he intoned.
“As Dad told me plenty of times.” If he were around, she’d ask him why. Dad could have written her out if he’d wanted to give Christopher the business. Why include her at all?
“What’s your experience in the hospitality industry?”
The matter-of-fact question deflated her. He hadn’t been following her brief stints in food service? She’d hoped he checked in on her social media accounts. She shifted on the seat. “I’ve dabbled in the service sector over the past few years. I’m more of a big-picture thinker.”
He nodded. “Which is great, and I don’t doubt your sincerity. But you need a practical understanding of the Inn. You have to get your hands dirty.”
“Is that really necessary? Do I have to learn? Or am I proving something to you?”
“If running this place is so easy, why don’t you show me?” He leaned forward, his hot breath tickling her cheek. “Unless you’re scared, you can’t…”
Her shiver had nothing to do with fear. She straightened her shoulders. “Fine. Great. I’ll be the hotel manager.” She’d been the assistant for a short while during the summer before she graduated college. However, she remained fuzzy on the details. She had skipped the tutorial about the booking software in favor of sneaking to the beach as he lifeguarded. With her eyes closed, she could remember how the sun had glistened off his lean muscles. She had failed the swim test miserably and been put to better use indoors at Dad’s insistence. She was sure she’d be more than capable as an adult.
“Oh no.” Christopher waggled a finger in her face. “You’ll work your way up. Just like I did.”
She hoped he wasn’t speaking literally. He’d started on the ground crew in middle school before moving on to bussing and then lifeguarding in high school. When he graduated college, he assumed a management role.
If she followed his path, she’d spend the day weeding the flower beds at the front entrance of the Inn, inhaling exhaust from idling vehicles waiting for the valet. She studied her chipped manicure. At least she hadn’t fixed her nail polish yet. Within hours, her palms would be callused from manual labor.
With a placating smile, she studied him. How could she get out of it? Play into his concern about appearance? “Isn’t that sort of vindictive? Do you really want your employees to think poorly of you? And give the townsfolk even more fodder?”
He steepled his fingers together and rested his elbows on the desk. “Exactly. I need you to make a show of doing whatever it takes to get the Inn. You’ll look like the wronged heroine of the whole situation. You’ll earn everyone’s sympathy.”
He had a point. She needed more. She wanted his support. “What will you do while I’m otherwise engaged? Ghost hunting?” She wanted him to find the answers. But she hoped he wouldn’t poke around and disturb the ghost. Whoever haunted the abandoned building didn’t want company.
The more she considered her experience with the lighthouse phantom, the more she questioned why her late father hadn’t used that angle to keep guests from poking around the building. His treasure myth had stoked interest.
“Not quite.” Christopher sighed. “I need photos and documentation. If it’s foul play, I’ll need to file a police report.”
Reasonable and rational, as always. She wasn’t surprised but concerned. Ghosts could still hurt non-believers. “You really think it’s sabotage?”
“I don’t know.” He dropped his arms to the table. “An accident still seems the most reasonable explanation.”
“When will you inspect the lighthouse?”
He stared at her, holding her gaze until his left eye twitched. Then he looked away. And she almost cheered.
“I’ll have a look tomorrow. I don’t want to make an insurance claim. The rates would spike, and I intend to renovate, anyway.” He stared at her hard. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
