Up to Me (Shore Secrets) (19 page)

Piper circled around to take a seat at the high table with her lunch. “What’s the emergency? Because you’re obviously not bleeding. And you’re not dancing either, which means we didn’t win the lottery on those tickets you made us chip in on last night.”

A big, deep breath. Then Ella moved back a few steps so she could see everyone easily. “Frank Rogers called me this morning.”

“Frank from the bank?” Dawn asked. “He comes in here every morning for decaf and a cruller. Such an awful comb-over, but he’s always so pleasant.”

Yup. There was that stupid, small-town vibe that set Gray’s teeth on edge. Slow and oh-so-personal. Ella announced she had a freaking emergency, and they had to discuss this guy’s morning donut? If they were in a real city, someplace with a sports team and a rush hour, her big emergency would’ve been solved already. How did people who moved here manage to dial back their pace to the pre-internet era?

Ward stroked his goatee. “What’s the matter—is somebody passing counterfeit twenties at the Manor gift shop?”

“Not even close. He told me that someone is plotting to buy Mayhew Manor.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No way.” Casey and Piper spoke on top of each other, with matching wide eyes, full of outraged shock.

Gray stopped chewing. For a couple of seconds, it was a toss up if he’d choke or do a spit take. Or just blurt out a blue streak of curses. How the hell did it leak? Did Ella know it was him nosing around? How would he explain himself?

Even if this was the first time he’d gotten so personally involved, this was far from his first project. Certainly not the first time he’d had to shield his thoughts and expression. Half the time Gray felt like he wore a mask like the
Phantom of the Opera
. Great musical—he’d taken a handful of second dates to it on Broadway over the years—but a crappy way to live. Then he realized his utter lack of expression wasn’t the right response, either.

Gray frowned. Set down his sandwich. “What sort of proof does he have?”

In what he recognized as a nervous habit, Ella toyed with the ends of the pink scarf on her ponytail. “Apparently someone’s been accessing the bank records specifically for the Manor. Tax records, mortgage payments, etc. Frank’s grandson’s the one who found it. He’s doing a report at school on how to follow a cybertrail. Kevin was just practicing in the bank system—innocuous stuff, and then he discovered time stamps from another user who’d been there first.”

Shit. Gray had requested and gotten the standard data dump a couple of days ago. One of the new summer interns had done it. Clearly they hadn’t followed the detailed instructions on how
not
to leave an obvious trail. If this was a normal job, he’d be sweating bricks right now. Wondering if his whole assignment was about to be derailed. Wondering if his cover was blown.

This time around, Gray didn’t care so much about the assignment going south. Losing his cover, though, that would be bad. Very, very bad. Not only had he yet to decide the best course of action for his company, but he also hadn’t figured out what would be best for Ella. And if those two different roads could—or should—intersect.

“Does it matter?” Piper spread her arms wide, palms up. “The Manor’s not for sale. Period.”

“It isn’t that cut and dry. I’m out on a pretty big limb with the mortgage and the constant maintenance that a place like this demands.” Ella began to pace a short, tight circuit. “If this company that’s been sniffing around decided to ask the bank to call the mortgage and I couldn’t pay all of it back immediately, technically they can offer to pay it off. They’d snake it right out from under me. At least, that’s the bare-bones version that Frank gave me.”

Gray hated hearing the bright edge of panic in her voice. Especially since an attempted acquisition might not even happen. He still didn’t have enough intel to sway him one way or the other. The knowledge that he was at least partially responsible for her distress weighed on his conscience.

“So you have to come up with all the money to pay off a thirty-year mortgage, what, tomorrow?”

“Yes. And no. Because Seneca Savings and Loan has handled everything for the Manor for decades, they want to help us out. But because they’ve handled everything, they know just how shaky the finances are right now. That tourism spike our city planner promised to deliver never materialized.”

“Seems like he’s been concentrating on his own spike,” said Ward.

His joke was enough to put an end to Ella’s pacing. “I don’t have to pay off the whole thing. But if some faceless company takes the next step, I would need to make a ‘significant payment’,” she made air quotes with her fingers, “to prove my intent and ability to maintain the payment schedule.”

Piper pursed her lips. “What constitutes a significant payment?”

Smart question. One to which Gray was pretty sure he knew the answer. Probably better than Ella did. And after rifling through her records, he also knew the answer to whether or not she’d be able to hit it.

“He didn’t give me an exact number. But I think the technical definition would be
more than I can possibly scrape together.
And there’s more.”

“More what?” Dawn asked. “More underhanded dealings by Frank?”

She held up a hand. “No, don’t blame him. Ever since Seneca merged with that national bank, he has other people to answer to, rules to follow. He’s already overstepping to meet me halfway. But I do have more bad news.”

Casey tipped her head back and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Seriously? We haven’t even solved this problem yet.”

“I’ll get the ice cream scoop,” said Dawn.

Unbelievable. Of course, Gray’d had that reaction so many times since arriving at Seneca Lake, that it was pretty much par for the course. Still, he couldn’t let her response go unchallenged. Because it was freaking nuts. “This isn’t a 1950s diner where every problem can be solved with a hot fudge sundae and two spoons. This is serious. Ella needs help.”

“And she’ll get it. Along with a root beer float. There’s nothing these four can’t solve with a little thinking time and root beer floats.”

Jesus.

“Thanks, Dawn.” Ella shot her a grateful smile.

Piper curled her fingers in a bring-it-on gesture. “What else?”

The smile disappeared. “Eugene’s retiring.”

“Right.” Casey snorted as she snapped her head back down. “He’s been saying that for years. Five minutes waxing rhapsodically about some hut in Tahiti with his name on it, and then he checks in the next guest. Your manager isn’t going anywhere.”

“Except that he is. I mean, not to Tahiti. He’s going to help watch his grandkids. Eugene’s dead set about quitting in six weeks. Handed me an official resignation letter and told me that the time was right.”

Son of a bitch. Gray couldn’t believe the guy had decided to pack it in just because Ella kissed one man. Hell of a way to plan your retirement.

“Wow. The end of an era.”

“Yes, well, if I don’t figure out what to do, it may also be the end of Mayhew Manor.”

“Are you flipping out? Do you need to breathe into a paper bag?”

“Do I look like I’m flipping out?”

Actually, she didn’t. Now that the pacing had stopped, Ella stood her ground, cool as could be. She looked a little pissed off, a lot resolute, but not at all freaked out.

“There’s no time to flip out,” she continued. “There are big decisions to be made. Huge. Do I start the search for a new hotel manager? Do I take over his job? I don’t want to, but it would erase a big salary from my expense column. Not that it matters in the long run, unless I figure out how to keep the hotel afloat and keep the bank happy.”

Ward wiped his hands and shoved his empty plate back. “Maybe Gray’s right. Maybe this is bigger than root beer floats. I think this might require actual beer.”

“Now you’re talking sense.” Gray lifted his root beer in a silent toast.

“Well, at least we know where to start.”

“The journal.” Again, Casey and Piper spoke right on top of each other.

“No. No way.” Gray had to put his foot down. Hell, he’d lay down on the tracks to stop that crazy train of thought. “I respect your kooky, quaint town custom. Really, I do. I played along. I even get how helpful—therapeutic, even—it’s been for Ella over the past few years. But this is her life. Her livelihood. Her legacy.” And realized how fucking hypocritical it was for him to be spouting all that while he stood on the brink of taking it away. Shit.

“We know.”

Right now, he had to compartmentalize. Since he hadn’t decided anything with his work brain, he’d follow his heart. Go ahead and give her the benefit of his experience. Ready to fight for her cause, hell, to fight for
her
, Gray stood, crossed to Ella and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Saving it—or not—can’t be taken lightly. And it can’t be left up to people who, no matter how caring, don’t have all the information. Facts, figures, spreadsheets, profit-and-loss statements. This requires strategy. A long-range plan.” He turned to put his other hand on her shoulder as well. Looked straight in those mossy green eyes of hers. “A gut check from you and you alone. You can’t leave this one up to other people, Ella.”

“You’re saying it’s up to me?” A wry twist to her lips told him she knew she was echoing the phrase he’d tossed at her just the night before in reference to his dad.

Gray swallowed the idea down hard. “Yeah.” Because that was truth. No matter what Gray recommended to Ruffano & McIntosh, Ella was still the one in charge of her own destiny. She could decide to fight a takeover, or not. She could decide to give up without every finding out that the takeover threat was real, but aborted. He watched her square her shoulders, lift her chin just a bit higher. This was going to be her line in the sand. And damn it, Gray planned to help her however he could. After a quick squeeze, he let her go and went back to his stool.

“Ella, we’re here to help however we can. Or not help at all, if that would help you the most.”

“Thanks.” She gave Piper a quick, one-armed hug. “That’s why I called you all here. I wanted to have you weigh in, give me your take on it. But now...I think I’m going to dial that back. How about you just help me brainstorm?”

“Do we still get root beer floats for just brainstorming?” Casey asked.

“Of course.”

A flash of a smile before she lifted her sandwich. “Then I’m in.”

Just as quick, a flash of jealousy streaked through Gray. To have people who jumped in and supported wholeheartedly...well, that didn’t happen every day. Certainly didn’t happen to Gray. Maybe because he was never stayed in town long enough to foster such a bone-deep friendship. Sure must be nice to know that people had your back. No matter what. To never have to feel as alone as he did every damn day.

Ward crossed one arm over his chest. Propped his elbow on it and stroked his goatee with his other hand. “Are you sure about that, Ella?”

“I really am. Calling you away in the middle of the day was a mistake. A knee-jerk reaction to tough news. Which is a habit I’m trying to break. I think I know what I have to do, at least partially. I started writing the job description for a new manager in my head on the drive over here.”

“So you’re not taking over?” Dawn slid the first root beer float down the counter to Gray, with a second right behind it for Ward.

Beneath her top, her breasts rose and fell with two deep breaths. Just because this could be a pivotal moment in Ella’s life was no reason for Gray to ignore the sensuous slide of her body against the fabric. And wish his hands were there, cupping the softness. Maybe brushing his thumb back and forth over the nipples he knew would harden immediately at his touch. Shit. They needed to have sex soon. As soon as possible. Before his need burned away all ability for rational thought.

“It could take a while to find the right person for the job. I’ll certainly take charge during whatever transition has to occur. But taking over? No. Sure, I could, but I’d hate it. Long-term, that would be detrimental to the hotel.”

“Great. One problem down.” Ward made a big show of wiping his hands. “Now all we have to do is find a big wad of cash to bail you out with the bank. Got any secret rooms in that castle of yours that haven’t been thoroughly searched yet?”

“As fun as a treasure hunt sounds, I think I can help you find the wad of cash.” The solution was so obvious. Gray was shocked none of her friends had blurted it out yet.

“A man of many talents,” Casey mocked. “What do you propose, dredging the fountain out back for all the good luck quarters people tossed in over the years?”

“I’m serious. And I’m pretty sure I’m talking about a serious chunk of change. What about the settlement from the accident you said your lawyers keep trying to get you to accept? The money’s all there, just waiting to be cashed.”

Casey’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Since you’re new around here, so you might not realize that we don’t joke about the Mayhews.” Piper pinned him with a stare cold enough to put frostbite on his ears. “Ever.”

“Because they’re
dead
,” added Ward with a solemn finality. “Have some respect.”

Ella lifted her arm, fist tight. For a crazy second, Gray wondered if she was about to belt him one. Then she extended a single finger and pointed it at him. “I remember them, and miss them.” Her voice was steady, with no hint of tears. Simply factual, like reading the weather report. If you were reading the weather in Antarctica and hated the cold. Because freaking icicle shards speared off every word. “I don’t profit off of them.”

He wasn’t suggesting that they tap dance naked on her parents’ graves. Everybody needed to shelve their hot-and-cold-running emotion and come at this logically. “Look, I get that you don’t want to run out and blow it on a cruise or expensive shoes. But this isn’t frivolous. It’d be using the money to help preserve your parents’ memory, in a way.”

“No.”

Now she was just being stubborn. Standing on principle. Which was all she’d be left standing on once the hotel got snatched out from under her. Gray’s frustration erupted. “You’re going to have to take that money sooner or later. And then what—give it all to charity in twenty years when you finally decide to deal with it? Bequeath a new wing to the local animal shelter in your parents’ name or something? Why not use it now, when you need it most? Let them help you, one last time.”