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Kids ran in the sand, and there were two lifeguards stationed on either side of the beach, a picturesque summer scene.
As he slipped into the office wing through a side door, he thought about his choices and a new to-do list.
Take the job here in Central New York. Buy a house. Get him and Addie moved in before school started. Court the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about.
He grinned.
He had a good offer on the table. If it wasn’t perfect, he could look for other options, but it was a start and it bought him time. He had a decent bank account balance and the luxury of time, at least a summer’s worth. He’d take the job, stay right here and woo the fair lady.
Josie was contracted. She wasn’t going anywhere.
He had every choice in the world, but whenever he pictured that gorgeous long hair and those luminescent eyes, the choices narrowed to here. Right here.
The day raced by. He had a few small fires to put out, unforeseen systems snags, but by the end of the day, nothing major had occurred and the online reviews of the Eastern Shore Inn were stellar. Those solid reviews would keep the entire Carrington business machine happy.
* * *
Josie went to work on Monday, fairly sure her heart might not make it through the day.
Jacob was nowhere to be found, which made sense because he’d been working long, rugged hours, just like her.
Should she make an appointment to see him? Stop into his office? Text him?
She decided the text was easiest and least volatile. Can we meet later today for that talk?
Short and sweet, following up on his suggestion. His text came back quickly. Yes. This afternoon, after four? Coffee someplace quiet?
She’d love that, but she couldn’t risk telling him the truth in a public place. Plus, any place quiet probably wouldn’t stay quiet for long after what she had to tell him. Too many people. My apartment? Five o’clock?
In that case, I’ll bring the coffee.
Kind and considerate. And sure to dislike her by the end of the day. Great. See you then.
She put away the phone and layered the smoker while the kitchen staff worked with yesterday’s meat selection. They’d prepped the soups, and already the restaurant was filled with the enticing scents of good, solid food.
Gabby Gallagher’s bakery supplied her with homemade pies and hummingbird cake each day. Her signature French toast and bread puddings filled out the dessert menu, along with the ever-popular crème brûlée.
And Robert Weatherly had raved about her barbecue at first bite.
He wouldn’t be raving once the truth was known, but she couldn’t help that.
She prayed.
She prayed for courage as she tended the smoker, for strength as she oversaw the making of salads and, as she grated robust Vermont cheddar for the Cajun rice and broccoli, mostly she prayed for understanding.
The last one was the least likely. Josie knew that, because she didn’t pretend to understand any of this. Right now it wasn’t about blame. There was plenty of that to go around.
It was about love, and if you loved something enough, you set it free. And that’s what she had to do later this afternoon.
* * *
Jacob spotted the unfamiliar Georgia number and took the call on his Bluetooth as he drove toward the resort. “Jacob Weatherly, Carrington Hotels, how can I help you?”
“Mr. Weatherly, I’m James Sinclair of Sinclair Associates in Atlanta. We represent Sweet Hope Adoption Agency.”
Sweet Hope Adoption? Jacob’s interest switched to high gear. “The adoption agency that handled my daughter’s original adoption to my sister.”
“And her husband.”
Jacob let that slide because he knew—they all knew—that Adam had no intention of staying in his marriage to Ginger. It had been the talk of the family for months. But that was neither here nor there now. “Have you uncovered something in Addie’s family history, some medical thing? Why are you calling?”
“No, there is no bad medical news to report, and that’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?”
Jacob was losing his patience and his focus. He pulled off onto one of the graveled overlooks because a conversation with a lawyer about Addie hadn’t made his list of probabilities that day. “Mr. Sinclair, what’s going on? Why the phone call? What’s happened?”
