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I reach down into my computer bag and retrieve a file, handing it to him.
“This information is highly confidential.”
He opens it, scanning the first two pages of the document. When his eyes cut back to mine, he’s hyper-alert. “It’s not a rumor.”
“Not to those in the know. Brasher Resorts bought the old hotel on Atlantic and has been quietly redesigning it. The plan is a boutique hotel unlike anything Charleston currently has to offer. I’ve personally seen the layout, construction, and renovation design. It’s going to be out of this world.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“Stephanie took me to one of her legal meetings with Brasher. Darby was occupied, and it was easy to sneak away.”
“You snuck in?”
“Not exactly. Stephanie was invited.”
“How does she play into this?”
I roll my bottom lip between my teeth, thinking how much Miller needs to know. “Let’s just say Evin has been sitting on this information for a while. When I mentioned they were working an angle, this is a part of it.”
“A hotel like you’re describing is going to take years. Are you really pouring your investments and financial security into this? That’s risky, even for you.”
“Not exactly. Believe it or not, the building is solid. The old owner kept everything up to code. The construction is good, and very little permitting has to be done. Most of it is cosmetic and interior design. Brasher is contracting with a local group to create the gardens, landscaping, and water features. They have an aggressive timeline of next spring.”
“That’s virtually impossible.”
“Not with the right amount of money and resources.”
“This is why you bought that damn bakery! You’re going to lure Darby back here.” The light finally dawns as he puts it all together.
“Lure isn’t the right term. I’m doing everything in my power to bring Darby home.”
“You say Evin and Stephanie instigated this?”
“It’s a long story, but yeah. Stephanie tells it like a fairytale coming to life with Darby and me reconnecting.”
“You mean that hard-ass woman knows what fairytales are?”
“Apparently.” I grin. “She says she has a soft spot for me.”
“Lucky you.”
“I’m not lucky yet. This is where the chips fall. Now, I have to persuade Darby we can have it all again. She knows nothing about this. And Maya and Cole are a huge part of this decision. There has to be a lot of acceptance in order for any of this to work.”
“They’re good kids, Pierce.”
“They are, but like I told you, Connie is going to make this hell on me. Now, you know it all.”
“Yeah, I admit, the other night, I still didn’t understand where your head was at, but it’s all clear.”
“Good, because we need to hit the brownstone project, then I’m headed to the bakery.”
“I’ll go to the bakery with you.”
“Not today, you won’t. I woke up with Stephanie on the sofa and Runner laid across the bottom of the bed. Needless to say, I need some alone time with Darby before I pick up the kids tonight.”
•—•—•—•—•
“Where’s your sister?”
Cole points to a group of girls huddled together. I give a loud whistle across the room, and Maya’s head pops up. Even in the distance, I sense annoyance when her eyes meet mine. She takes her time gathering her bag, saying goodbye to her friends, and shuffling to us.
“Hey, baby.” I try to wrap my arm around her shoulder, but she successfully dodges my attempt and goes straight out the door.
“She’s been like this since Tuesday,” Cole explains.
“Is there a reason?”
“She and Mom got into a fight, and they’ve both been critchy.”
“Critchy? Is that a word?”
“It’s like ‘itchy’ with the ‘b’ and cranky combined.”
It takes a second to sink in. “You mean bitchy?”
“Yes, but Grandma said I shouldn’t say that word.”
“Grandma’s right.”
We get to the truck, and Maya’s leaning against the back cab door with her arms crossed. “How about a hug for your dad?”
“Not in the mood.” She cinches her ponytail and flips her hand in my direction.
Connie told me weeks ago about Maya’s mood swings and the fact we were headed into prepubescent years. I wanted to think she was exaggerating, but today is proof.
“Cole, give us a second.” I beep the locks, and he takes off to the other side. Maya makes a move to get in, but I spear her with a look that stops her hand mid-try.
“Want to share why you’re wound up?”
“Not really.”
“I respect your privacy, Maya, but I haven’t seen you for a week. Think you could give me a break and hug my neck?”
“Oh, I know all about why you haven’t seen us for a week! Mom told us your business trip was a lie!” she spews with so much hate it’s like staring at Connie.
“She told you it was a lie?”
“Yes. I know you ran off with your girlfriend.”
“She told you that?”
“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’ with such sass my blood boils.
