Page 83 of The Sugar Maple Inn

Reese

“Are you WildTrailGuide?”

Reese stared at Grace. At her wide eyes. Her shocked face.

“You’re—” His brain was scrambling. Catching up. “You’re AutumnDreams87?”

She nodded.

His mind raced. Tried to make sense of it. The timing. The coincidences. How AutumnDreams87 had appeared on the subreddit right when he’d been researching the inn. How she’d—

Wait.

Cold suspicion crept through him.

How many women had done this before? Researched him. Found out his interests. Positioned themselves perfectly in his path.

They were all the same. All of them. Even Megan.

Especially Megan. His ex. The one he’d thought might be different. The Oscar-nominated director with the sharp mind and the sharper tongue. The woman who’d looked at him like he was more than a bank account.

Or so he thought.

His accountant had flagged irregularities. Small amounts at first. Then larger. Money being siphoned from accounts Megan had access to. Accounts he’d given her access to because he’d trusted her. She’d been funding her passion project. A film about female artists or something. Had transferred nearly two hundred thousand over eight months without telling him. He wouldn’t have minded. She’d just had to ask. Not do it behind his back.

When he’d confronted her, she’d tried to turn it around. Said he should be supporting her art. That he had so much money, what did it matter? That she’d planned to tell him eventually. Then his lawyer had discovered something else. Megan had consulted attorneys about the prenup. Looking for loopholes. Ways around it.

The fight that followed had been nuclear. The vase. The accusations. Her sister calling three weeks later about the psychiatric facility. A suicide attempt that had come right after her film funding fell through. Right after three studios had passed. Right after she’d lost the thing she actually cared about.

Not him. The film.

He’d just been the bank. The safety net. The rich husband who could make her dreams happen.

When he’d cut her off, she’d fallen apart. Not because she loved him. Because he’d been useful.

Was Grace another one? Had she known exactly who WildTrailGuide was? Found out about his interest in the inn? Created this whole situation to—

No.

It was all too genuine. The vulnerability last night. All those years of loneliness.

That couldn’t be faked.

Could it…?

So many women had feigned vulnerability before when they were cold as steel, drawn like moths to the flame of money, prestige, power.

He gently lifted her off him and moved away from her.

“This is crazy,” Grace said, shaking her head as she looked up at the ceiling, clearly needing time too. “You’re WildTrailGuide.” She was repeating it like if she said it enough times it would start making sense.

As she talked, he grabbed his phone and pulled up Reddit. His profile.

WildTrailGuide. Account created two years ago.

He scrolled to AutumnDreams87’s profile.

Created three months ago, exactly when he’d found out about the inn and its potential sale from his real estate guy, a man who seemed to know a property would be going up for sale before anyone else. Had Grace known before everyone else too? Caught wind of a billionaire’s interest, saw it as a way to wheedle her way in?