Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Relief washed over Royal’s face. He let out a breath as if steeling himself and went on, “There’s something else. I never mentioned this before because, well, I wasn’t interested in working any closer with Dad than I had to. I don’t know how Ford did it. He acted as a buffer for the rest of us, and I appreciate it, but I didn’t want that job.”
“Dad’s gone,” I said, flatly. “And I don’t know when Ford is coming back.”
“I know. I’d like you to consider letting me take Ford’s place,” he said carefully.
I have to admit, I was surprised. From my siblings, I’d gotten mostly contempt and dismissal. They’d been ignoring and avoiding me for the most part. That was fine, honestly.
I had enough on my plate between taking over the business and getting the house in shape, a new wife and a new life—if they wanted to give me space I’d take all I could get.
Not sure what Royal really wanted—or if I could trust him—I raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
“I don’t want to leave the Inn completely, but we’re growing there and need more than just Tenn and I at the helm. I thought we could bring on a CFO. Tenn could officially have the CEO position, and I could split my time between the Inn and working for Sawyer Enterprises.”
“Why?” I had to ask.
“Look, I love the Inn. I’m proud of everything we’ve accomplished there, but sometimes I want to do more. Sawyer Enterprises is so diverse, you’re always doing something different. I guess I’m restless.”
“And Tenn? How would he feel about this?”
“Tenn loves the Inn, loves everything about it. I talked to him about the idea and he was open to it. He doesn’t want to go anywhere. He likes having control over all the moving parts of the property. Truthfully, he doesn’t understand how I could be restless. Every day at the Inn is different. New guests, new challenges. I guess I just want a different kind of different.”
I stared at my brother, lost in thought. I couldn’t deny it would be helpful to have another hand on deck, assuming I could trust him. I didn’t have a reason to distrust him any more than he had one to distrust me. Wasn’t it time I took a chance on one of them? Didn’t I have to eventually?
“Let me think about it,” I hedged. Royal’s face shuttered. “I’m not saying no. I just need to think about it and go over everything you’ve given me. It’s a big decision and I’m still getting my feet wet here. I can’t just say yes.”
Royal looked between Hope and me and nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Now, to save some time, why don’t you walk me through some of this—” I gestured to the manila folder he’d given me.
Royal opened the folder and spread sheets of paper across my desk. Cost projections, a map of that section of the Inn property, complete with sketches of proposed cottages. Noticing that one of them could be moved to catch a better view of the river, I reached for my pen and found it missing.
Shuffling through the papers, I was about to pull a new one from the drawer when I looked down and saw the pen by my foot. “One sec,” I said, leaning down.
A sharp crack of glass, a deep thud sounded, and my chair rocked back hard, knocking me to the floor. I hit the carpet hard on my hands and knees, momentarily stunned.
What the fuck was that?
Turning, I spotted a neat hole in the back of my leather chair exactly where my head had been. A bullet hole. The broken window closest to my desk had a matching hole, spiderwebs of cracks reaching out from the center across the clear glass.
What the fucking fuck?
Hope jolted upright in a rush, reaching for me as her face drained of blood and she crumpled to the floor.
“Hope!” I lunged across the carpet for Hope, shouting to Royal, “Call Hawk. Tell him we have a shooter on the grounds.”
I vaguely heard Royal talking into his phone as I checked Hope for injuries. No blood, nothing broken. She hadn’t been shot. I forced myself to take a deep breath. Hope hadn’t been shot, she’d just stood up too fast and fainted.
She was already coming to, her fluttering hands batting me away as I rolled her over to double-check that she didn’t have any injuries.
“Are you OK?” she asked, voice weak but gaining strength fast. “Griffen! Did someone shoot you?”
“I’m fine, they missed. Why did you pass out?”
“I don’t know, I just got up too fast. Maybe it was the shock. You leaned over and then the window cracked and there’s a hole in your chair. Griffen, someone shot at you? Is Royal talking to West?”