Page 15 of Don't Lie (Don't 2)


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I unlocked the door and settled behind the desk, ready to dig into the fries.

I checked my email to see if any of the hotel sites I emailed this morning had responded. My inbox was full of promotional coupons, but nothing from the advertisers. I reminded myself this was a marathon, not a sprint. It would take a while to make contacts and start a campaign for the motel.

Cole had multiple offers from developers who wanted to buy the Dune Scape. They all had the same plan: snatch up the 1950s motel, demolish it, and build a high-rise condominium complex. He could have walked away from the money pit and cashed in a fortune, but he argued that wasn’t the reason Pops left it to him. It was the only piece of a family legacy he had, and I wasn’t about to screw that up. We could make the Dunes something amazing for Grayson. He wanted his son to have something.

I unwrapped the foil from my turkey sandwich and took a big bite.

The office door opened, and a man whose shoulders filled the frame walked through the door. It wasn’t until he was inside and the silhouette from the sun vanished that I recognized him as the guy sitting in the corner at Peabody’s.

I covered my mouth with my hand as I tried to chew and swallow the enormous bite of sandwich I had stuffed in my mouth.

He had a deep laugh. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you a hundred questions while you’re eating lunch.” He pulled up a chair and planted himself in front of the desk.

I sipped on my water and cleared my throat. “Sorry.” I swallowed again.

“What can I help you with?”

He had light sandy brown hair, and a five o’clock shadow that gave him the look of a cologne model. He was maybe just under thirty.

“Don’t you want to finish your lunch?” He eyed my sandwich.

“No.” I shoved it to the side. “I’m working. Do you need a room?” I smiled and retrieved the reservation book. Cole had reverted to the old system as soon as I left. A walk-in reservation today would be fantastic.

“Something like that.” His eyes raked over me, and I had a creeping suspicion this was not guest-related at all.

“Ok, then what can I do for you?” I noticed his sleeves were rolled just below his elbows, a style Cole often sported.

He leaned forward, his light blue eyes blazing. “I’m Aiden Thomas.”

“Thomas?”

“Yep.” He reached for one of my business cards I had ordered online and read the name. “Are you Kaitlyn Sinclaire, the guest service, marketing, and planning manager?” His eyebrows arched.

The way he read out my self-proclaimed title made me feel ridiculous. I was the only one working in the office, so I tried to come up with something professional. It now sounded idiotic.

I nodded. “That’s me.”

“Maybe you can help me with something, Kaitlyn.” He leaned even closer to the desk. I could smell hints of cologne wafting across my computer.

“Ok.” I waited, hoping he would cut to the chase.

“I need to speak to the owner of the Dune Scape. I have some business I need to settle regarding the property.”

I rolled my eyes. No wonder Hank got annoyed with this guy. He was another investor in town, ready to obliterate the Dunes and its history.

“Mr. Thomas?” I straightened my shoulders. “I can probably save you a lot of time. The Dune Scape isn’t for sale. Cole isn’t interested in selling it and he never will be. Thank you for stopping in.” I smiled sweetly, pressing the point that it was time for him to leave.

He leaned in the chair, chuckling. “I guess I wasn’t completely clear.” His gaze locked on mine. “I’m the heir to the Dune Scape and I need to get the legal business settled. I already have a developer lined up. So if you could tell me where the other Thomas is, I can get the ball rolling.”

My pulse raced. What was this lunatic talking about? I pressed into the desk, my knuckles turning white. “What do you mean, you’re the heir? Cole’s grandfather left him the Dunes.” I didn’t want to air Cole’s personal business, but this was insane.

Aiden didn’t seem surprised. “You’re talking about my nephew?”

“Nephew?” I shook my head. Cole told me both of his parents were only children. This guy was way too young to be Cole’s uncle, at best a distant cousin. “Cole doesn’t have an uncle.”

Aiden sighed. “This wasn’t how I planned on meeting him, but sometimes shit happens.” He stood to leave. “Here’s my number.” He scribbled on the back of my business card and tossed it on the desk. “Tell Cole to give me a call.”

I jumped from my seat, ready to slug the smug look off his face, but I kept my palms by my side. I couldn’t start decking people in broad daylight.

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