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Now, though they were about to meet with their grandfather and it was sure to be a tense meeting, he was surprised by the smile on his face from just thinking about Shelley. Unfortunately, in a few minutes he’d need to push those thoughts away and focus completely on the issue at hand, whatever the hell that was. Yet again he wished his grandfather had been less cagey about why he’d needed to have Quinn and his four siblings back on the island today for this meeting.
Quinn eyed the bandage on Derek’s forearm. The most adventurous of them all, Derek was an adrenaline junkie at heart. His love of risk came second only to his love of creating things with his hands. Derek was a custom builder and stonemason and ran a very successful business in Boston. He’d gone on a caving expedition with a group of his buddies last week, and one of his spring-loaded camming devices failed. He’d caught the sharp edge of the wall with his forearm, leaving a four-inch gash that had to be stitched up.
“How’re the stitches?”
Derek shrugged. “Barely notice them.”
Quinn shook his head, knowing it had to be throbbing. But given that Derek had injured himself so many times, Quinn thought his brother was probably telling the truth that he didn’t even notice the stitched-up gash.
“Where’d you stay last night?” Trent asked Derek. “They said you never checked in to the suite Chandler booked for you.”
“I wasn’t going to let him pull all the strings.” Derek flashed a crooked grin. “I stayed at my cabin.” Years ago he’d bought a rustic cabin in the woods, and he clearly preferred roughing it to staying in plush luxury that came with strings attached.
“Your cabin?” Ethan laughed. His thick, wavy hair was unkempt from an early-morning fishing expedition. He ran the biggest fishery in the area, and lived and breathed for life on the water. “That thing isn’t fit to live in. There isn’t even a bed.”
Derek rolled his eyes and paced. He got restless if he stayed in one place for too long. “Unlike you pansies, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag.” He peered down into the hall toward Chandler’s office. “Where is he? First he mandates that the three of us return to the island, pulls Ethan off his boat, totally negates Dad—who has given his whole life to this frigging place—and Sierra by not even inviting them to the meeting. And now he’s late?”
“I saw him from the window coming up from the beach a minute ago,” Ethan said. “He’s on his fourth private nurse, Didi. From what I’ve seen, though, she’s got a strong will. He fired his last three nurses within days of hiring them. So far she holds the record for lasting the longest, and she shows promise of being able to put up with Chandler.”
“Well, good luck to her.” Derek checked his watch. “So you think it’s true what Dad told you this morning? That Chandler’s going to try to get us to take over the resort?”
Ethan nodded. “He said that’s his hunch.”
Quinn exchanged an incredulous glance with Trent. As the two eldest, they’d taken the brunt of the heat from their grandfather’s disappointment in their avoidance of the family business, buffering the others. But there wasn’t enough buffering in the world to take the sting out of Chandler’s stern demeanor.
“He can’t seriously think we’re going to walk away from the businesses we’ve busted our asses building so we can take over for a man who treats his own son like garbage, can he?” Fire ran through Quinn’s veins. “And even if he did think that, why would he come to us? Dad runs the show here. We all know that.”
“Damn right,” Derek agreed. “Without Dad this place would have tanked ages ago. He cleans up all of Chandler’s messes, and I’ll tell you what. He’s a better man than me, because there’s no way I’d be able to put up with Chandler for all these years. Dad’s a saint.”
Trent crossed his arms over his white dress shirt. His hair was perfectly combed, his suit pressed, his shoes shined. He obviously expected to leave the island after the meeting and be back in New York in time to get on with his law practice. He’d always been the voice of reason, the peacemaker, and Quinn could tell by the way he was looking at them that he was already slipping into mediator mode.
“I’m concerned about why Sierra and Dad aren’t here, too,” Trent said. “But we should hear Chandler out, play it cool, and then figure out our next step as a group. There’s no need to get up in arms while he’s in the room. The man just had his second heart attack. We don’t need to be the cause of a third.”
