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“And books a spot at the annual Christkindl and the Lumberjack Festival over in Macedon, plus any other festivals planned from Independence Day on—”
“That’s a great idea.” He tapped a message into his phone, then hit Send. “I’m going to have my assistant see what food vendor spaces might still be available at local festivals, and Carrington will cover the entry fees to lock in the space. If we can make up for some of the lost time by being a visible presence locally, that will help maintain the local clientele and get folks used to seeing you or whoever is running the catering truck out and about. Unfortunately, we’re hitting your name recognition at the worst possible time.” He looked upset by that for just a moment, but then he snapped his fingers and hooked his thumb toward the nearly finished inn up the beach. “Why do we have to wait?”
“Because I have no kitchen?” She pointed toward the second truck that had just pulled away, moving the guts of her endeavor into storage.
“What if we create a pseudo kitchen in the interim?” he asked. “If we can get enough equipment up and running to service the take-out shack, then we could keep business going, folks would still be able to get barbecue the first weeks of summer, and how hard can it be to have loaded cowboy baked potatoes and shaved beef or pork sandwiches? If we focus on simple, it could work, right?”
Her head spun, and not just because he was tossing out possibilities to help her while she was ingratiating herself to turn his life upside down. And how did a land developer know anything about running a restaurant? “How do you know all this? The average guy off the street doesn’t know how to run a dive-type experience that’s really a first-class operation in casual disguise. And yet…” She paused, gazing at him, and for just a moment, she wanted to keep on gazing at him. His eyes, kind and strong. His voice, commanding but helpful. And don’t get her started on the broad set of his shoulders in today’s more casual attire.
She gave herself a mental wake-up call. Wasn’t she already on shaky ground? No reason to mess things up further. “You seem to have a handle on it.”
“I leave the hotel incidentals up to the experts who run hotels, but when we incorporate a restaurant, the best thing to do is get it up off the ground as soon as possible. You’ve already done that, but if we can keep momentum going, in a casual manner, then we don’t lose time rebuilding business. And time is money. My dad ran a chain of chicken places down south,” he added, smiling. “I’ve been restaurant savvy from the time I could walk. He taught me the basics of development, site prep and running a business from beginning to end.”
“Does he still run the restaurants?”
Jacob’s expression went quiet. He stared off, over her shoulder, toward the water. “No. He retired a couple of years ago. He’d made a fortune, and my mother had planned a big party to celebrate moving on, having some time together, but then…my sister was killed in a horrible accident. It took the heart out of them. They canceled the party, completed the sale on the businesses and moved to southern Florida on the Gulf side. My father hates it, my mother pretends to love it, and neither one has gotten over their grief.”
Broken hearts littered his family, just like hers. Did that affect things, though? Did their loss negate Ginger’s deception, if that’s what happened six years ago?
“I pray for them every day,” he went on. “They’re such good people. They’ve worked so hard and done a lot of good in their time, but there’s an emptiness they can’t fill no matter what they do.” He sent her a look of regret. “I keep hoping they’ll find peace or happiness somehow. Or somewhere. They can’t seem to get over being mad, and I think that happens sometimes when you’ve got lots of money.” He faced her more directly. “You don’t expect things to go wrong, because money fixes everything. Except when it doesn’t.”
Sage words from a person of faith.
But she couldn’t let herself get off track. She could accept that Jacob was a good man and still investigate what happened when Ginger and Adam O’Neill signed those adoption papers. Her beef wasn’t with the kind, handsome man standing alongside her. It was with two people who were now out of the picture.
