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“Uno! Uno!” They chant as they dance around the cards on the floor.
I accept the call and hurry out to the pool area. “Hi, Clint—
“Sounds like you’re having a party.” There is a bunch of background noise on his end, too, and he’s sitting down, the lucky bastard.
I chuckle as I pace next to the pool. “That’s my kids. They’re learning how to play Uno. Badly. What’s going on where you’re at? A storm or something?”
“I’m on my jet.”
Of course, he has his own jet. “Well, I hope you’re flying somewhere nice.”
“As do I. I have some concerns about your little resort, and I’d like to speak about them as soon as possible—
“I have the time now, if you’d like.”
He shakes his head. “Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to do these things in person. I’m flying to Somerset Harbor as we speak. I’ll be at your house in a couple of hours in time for supper.”
Oh shit. What do I say? No? How could I? He’s investing millions of dollars into our resort. I’m not exactly thrilled with him inviting himself into my house with my kids around like he owns the place. But I’m not in a position to tell him no, either. What would Dad do? I force a smile on as I maintain eye contact and tell him, “That sounds like a plan.” Not agoodone, but a plan all the same. “We usually order—
“I’m looking forward to a home-cooked meal. Haven’t had one of those in ages.”
“Great,” I say.
The warmth of the pavement feels good beneath my feet. Pacing when nervous has always been a quirk of mine and this place has proved to be the best place for that. But before I could take a step back, my foot slips. My body follows suit and gravity takes over, plunging me into the chilly shallow end with a loud splash. My hands instinctively keep the phone out of the water, thankfully, but the rest of me is soaked. I can hear Clint’s laughter as I come back up for air.
Between laughs, he manages to ask, “How did you keep your phone dry like that?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“Luck had nothing to do with that. That was skill.”
Sluicing the water out of my hair with one hand, while keeping the phone up with the other, I ask him, “Around when can I expect you?”
“Around seven, give or take twenty minutes. Can’t make promises for tail winds.”
“Jet problems,” I say knowingly, even though I have no idea if that’s true. “See you then.” He hangs up, and I’m at a complete loss. But it’s only for a moment. I call the only person I can count on these days. She answers and presses the FaceTime button.
Being waist deep in the chilly pool should keep my libido in check. “Hey, Lily.”
“Cormac,” she says, frowning. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday—
“That’s not why I asked. You’re all wet.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, which makes her blush.
“Uh, wrong wording. Um—
“I fell in the pool, because an investor distracted me by inviting himself over for a home-cooked Sunday supper.”
More frowning. “But you don’t cook.”
I nod, hoping this goes well. “Which would be why I called you.”
“Oh.”
“I know this is short notice and I hate to ask the favor, but I am desperate to impress him. This supper could make or break my resort. I cannot explain how important it is, but I will add a generous thank you bonus in your pay this week, if you can make it here—
