The Inn at Eagle Point

“Oh, you know Jess. She never sticks with anything for long.” How many times had she heard some family member say that, especially her father? When it came from Abby or her brothers, she took it in stride. When Mick said it, it cut Jess to the quick. She’d grown up believing she would never measure up to the high standards he set for all of his children. The inn was her chance to prove him—to prove all of them—wrong.

Fortunately Jess, like her siblings, had a modest trust fund that had come due when she’d turned twenty-one. It had been invested wisely, the amount growing, especially since Abby had taken over managing the account. It was enough, she’d hoped, for a down payment.

Impulsively, she’d made an appointment the next morning with the Realtor. Naively and because she was caught up in the dream, she hadn’t asked to see the books or any other proof that the inn could be operated in the black. She’d done a cursory inspection and found it to be in good shape. After all, one thing she knew about her father and Uncle Jeff, they designed and built things to last. She’d made a conservative bid, which had been accepted at once. The Pattersons were anxious to leave. All that remained was to get the financing in place.

That’s when she should have called Abby, she realized now. Or her father. Even her brothers could have offered sound advice, but, stubbornly independent to the end, she’d handled it all herself. To keep the payments within reason, she’d accepted an interest-only loan for the short term, then planned to refinance once the inn was open and operating at a profit.

Best-laid plans, she thought now, sipping her wine as she waited for Abby to come back from tucking the kids into bed. Nothing had gone as she’d anticipated. The Pattersons had never installed any kind of up-to-date reservation system. The heating and air-conditioning systems were barely functioning and needed to be replaced with something more energy-efficient. While the building itself was sound, the rooms were shabby, the curtains faded, the linens unacceptable. The exterior looked dilapidated, which had been easy enough to fix, but even a coat of paint cost money.

The down payment had depleted her funds, so she’d applied for a business loan, using the inn as collateral. She’d been approved easily.

Filled with excitement, Jess had finally revealed her purchase to the rest of the family. Predictably, Gram and her siblings had been delighted for her. Mick had asked a thousand and one perfectly reasonable questions for which she didn’t have adequate answers. That was when she’d gotten the first nagging sense that she was in over her head.

Then, a few months ago, while she was still trying to complete the necessary redecorating, she’d gotten a letter from the bank pointing out that she was behind on her payments for the mortgage and for the business loan. She’d scrambled to come up with the cash, embarrassed that in her zeal to spruce up the place, she’d overlooked the due dates for those payments. It had happened again a couple of months later. With her funds depleted, she’d missed two payments in a row after that.

That’s when she’d received the warning notice that she was in violation of the terms of both agreements, her mortgage and her small-business loan.

“Meaning what?” she asked Lawrence Riley when she’d called the bank in a panic.

“Meaning with your very spotty payment history, we could start foreclosure procedures. I’ve been keeping an eye on things at the inn. You have no cash flow.”

“I’m renovating. The grand opening is scheduled for July first. I’d hoped to make it by Memorial Day, but it just wasn’t feasible.”

“How do you expect to make these next payments or the ones the month after?”

“I’ll find the money,” she assured him, even though she had no idea where.

“Maybe you should speak to your father,” he suggested. “I’m sure he’d be willing—”

Jess cut him off. “This is my project. My father’s not involved.”

Her comment silenced him, which she thought was a good thing. But then he said, “If I thought your father was backing you, I could look the other way for the short term….”

“Well, he’s not,” Jess repeated. “You’ll get your payments, Mr. Riley. You know what potential the inn has. You know it’s going to be a success.”

“With the right management, yes,” he said. “I’m no longer convinced you’re the person who can accomplish that.”

His condescension and lack of faith infuriated her. She would have told him off, but even Jess was wise enough to recognize her already precarious standing with the banker.

“Please, be patient,” she said instead. “These are good loans, Mr. Riley. You know me. You know my family.”

“As I said, if you want to bring your father in, we can discuss—”

“No,” she’d replied fiercely.

“It’s your decision, of course. I’ll expect the payments on my desk on time,” he said. “Good day, Jessica.”

That conversation had taken place on Tuesday. She’d called Abby on Wednesday, the minute she’d realized there was no way she’d have the money in time. She knew Abby was going to flip out when she heard the kind of deals Jess had made without consulting her, but in the end she’d help her fix things, because that was what Abby did. She made things right. Even when her marriage was falling apart, she’d found a way to keep her equilibrium, stay on track at work and give the twins the kind of attention they needed to get through the turmoil. If she’d handled all that, this would be a piece of cake, Jess thought confidently.

Of course, that was before she’d realized that Trace was part of the equation. She had no idea exactly what had happened between him and Abby all those years ago, but it hadn’t been good. There was a history there, and despite Trace’s assurance that he wouldn’t let it interfere with the bank’s decision, Jess wasn’t a hundred percent sure she could believe him. Nor was she certain how Abby would feel once she knew she’d be dealing with her old flame. It might be better not to mention that at the outset.

When Abby finally joined her on the porch, Jess asked about work, how the girls were doing in kindergarten, whether there were any new men in Abby’s life. Abby finally regarded her with impatience. “You’re stalling,” she accused.

Jess flushed. “Maybe a little, but I did want to catch up. We never get to have a real heart-to-heart anymore. I miss that.”

Abby’s expression softened. “Me, too. But a life-or-death problem tops catching up. Talk to me.”

An hour later, after Jess had spilled her guts and seen the dismay in Abby’s eyes, she wasn’t so sure this was going to be as easy to fix as she’d hoped.

“We can straighten this out, can’t we?” she asked her sister, unable to keep a plaintive note out of her voice. “I know I’ve made a mess of things so far, but when you see the inn again, you’ll understand why I had to do it exactly this way. It’s going to be amazing.”

“It will only be amazing if you can keep the bank from foreclosing,” Abby said direly. “Why didn’t you call me sooner? I would have loaned you the money.”

“I don’t need your money,” Jess insisted. “I can do this on my own. I just need to buy a little more time. A couple of months, max.”

“You have reservations coming in?”

“We’re booked solid the rest of the summer, and we’re starting to get reservations for the fall,” Jess said proudly. “Plus, once word of mouth kicks in about how cozy the place is and how fabulous the food is, that should take care of the rest of the year, at least on weekends. I’m going to offer some holiday specials, too, to try to boost bookings in November, December and even the long weekends in January and February. I really do have a great marketing plan, Abby.”

“In writing?”

“No, but I can put it on paper, if that will help.”

Abby nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Do that. Maybe it’s the bargaining chip you need. First thing tomorrow I’ll meet you over there and we’ll go over all your financials. We can put together some realistic budget projections, then I’ll go with you to the bank on Monday.”

Which meant, Jess knew, that she’d come face-to-face with Trace. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. “I know how busy you are. Once we put everything together, if you need to go back to New York, I can take the paperwork to the bank.”

“It’ll be okay. Let’s face it, I speak their language and you don’t. This is your dream, and you tend to get sidetracked by all your plans. I can talk hard, cold facts and numbers.”

Jess gave in, because she knew Abby was right. She’d get emotional, while her sister could keep her cool. “If you’re really sure it won’t be too big an imposition, then thank you. I’ll never be able to repay you for doing this for me, Abby. I have to keep the inn. I just have to. It’s the first thing that’s really mattered to me, ever. It’s my chance to prove I’m as good as the rest of the O’Briens.”

Abby stared at her with a shocked expression. “What are you talking about, Jess? Of course you’re as good as the rest of us.”

“Come on. I’ve always been the screwup, the hyper one with no ability to focus. You probably expected me to mess this up from the beginning.” The belated diagnosis that she had attention deficit disorder had come when she was ten and struggling in school. From then on, it had been her curse and, all too often, an easy excuse for her failure to follow through on things.

“That is not true,” Abby said, though her expression said otherwise. “Sweetie, you have ADD. We all understand that. Despite that, look at all you’ve accomplished. You graduated from high school near the top of your class. You got your college degree. Those are huge accomplishments for someone with ADD. You’ll figure out how to manage everything at the inn, too.”

“I barely got through college because I kept changing my major. And I’ve drifted through half a dozen dead-end jobs since then,” Jess reminded her, determined to keep it real. “I’m twenty-two and I’ve never even had a relationship that’s lasted more than a few months.”

“Because you haven’t found the one thing or the one person you were passionate about,” Abby argued. “Now you have the inn. I remember how you used to talk about it when you were little. You loved going over there. I was so excited for you when you told me you’d finally bought it.” Her expression turned determined. “Stop worrying. I intend to do everything in my power to see that you keep the inn.”

“Short of bailing me out with money,” Jess reiterated. “I won’t let you do that.”

“Let’s just see how it goes, okay? I have the money to invest in a sure thing and I have faith in you.”

Tears welled up in Jess’s eyes. “I love you, sis.”

“Love you more. Now let’s get some sleep, so we can get started on all this first thing in the morning. What time should I meet you at the inn?”

“Nine?” Jess suggested. She owed her sister one lazy morning at least.

“Make it eight.”

Despite her emotions being all over the place, Jess grinned. “Not bad. You must be relaxing. I was figuring you’d say seven.”

“Watch it, kid. I could change my mind.”

Jess was on her feet at once. “See you at eight,” she said hurriedly, then started down the steps. At the bottom, she turned back. “I’m glad you’re home, Abby, but I’m sorry I dumped all this on you.”

“That’s what family’s for,” Abby said. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Despite her sister’s words, Jess wondered if she’d ever truly believe that, at least where her disapproving father was concerned. Once Mick heard about this, there’d be plenty of I-told-you-so’s to go around.

And once Abby realized that she was going to be dealing with Trace Riley and that Jess had kept that fact from her, Jess was very much afraid she might walk away and leave Jess to fend for herself.

Abby walked into the kitchen shortly after dawn, awakened by the sound of the robins, bluebirds and wrens outside her open bedroom windows. She’d forgotten how noisy nature could be, especially in the spring. As early as it was, she wasn’t surprised to find her grandmother there ahead of her.

“You’re up early,” Gram said, her tone chiding. “I thought you’d sleep in for a bit on your first morning home.”

“I have a lot to do today,” Abby said, pouring herself a cup of the strong tea Gram had brewed. She laced it with milk, then sighed with pleasure after the first sip. “It never tastes like this when I make it.”

“That’s because you use tea bags and brew it in the microwave, I’ll bet.”

Abby grinned. “Could be.”

“A good pot of tea takes time to steep. If you put a little time and love into it, it shows.”

“I have enough trouble finding time to love my girls without worrying about how my tea feels,” Abby replied.

“Which means you’re working too hard. You never have learned how to relax. Why don’t you grab a book and take it outside to the hammock this morning. I’ll keep an eye on the girls. I’ll take them into town and show them off.”

“If you wouldn’t mind watching the girls, I’ll take you up on that,” Abby told her. “But the hammock will have to wait. I promised Jess I’d meet her at the inn in an hour.”

Gram’s expression immediately sobered. She sat down across from Abby and stirred her tea, then lifted her gaze to Abby’s. “She’s in trouble with that, isn’t she?”

Abby didn’t want to betray her sister’s confidence, but she’d always been a lousy liar. She settled for asking, “What makes you think that?”

“For one thing, this is Chesapeake Shores, where gossip is everybody’s favorite hobby. For another, Violet Harding’s sister works at the bank. She told Violet that she’d seen something about foreclosure on a file with Jess’s name on it. Of course that old gossip couldn’t wait to spread the word. The Hardings are still furious that Mick bought up all their family’s land to develop this town. Never mind that it was their good-for-nothing father who sold it to him because he needed cash, somehow it’s Mick’s fault that they don’t own all that acreage anymore.” She waved off the topic. “None of that matters. Is Jess going to lose the inn the way Violet said?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Abby told her firmly. “And please don’t tell her you know. She’s so afraid of letting all of us down.”

Gram shook her head. “Does she honestly believe we care more about that inn and whether she succeeds or fails than we do about her?”

Abby nodded. “I think she does. She wants desperately to prove herself, especially to Dad.”

“Now that I understand,” Gram said, her mouth set in a grim line. “Why those two can’t communicate without starting a fight is beyond me.”

“It’s because they’re exactly alike,” Abby said. “They both have more pride than sense and a mile-wide stubborn streak. And neither one of them can stand to be wrong about anything. Even though I wasn’t around when Jess bought the inn, I’m sure Dad was the first to suggest she was making a mistake and will be the first to say I told you so if she fails.”

“That’s it in a nutshell,” Gram agreed. “I don’t remember him being that ornery with the rest of you.”

“Trust me, he was,” Abby said. “But with the rest of us, we could let it roll off our backs. We knew we had you and Mom in our corners, no matter what. With Mom gone, Jess has always taken everything Dad said to heart, even offhand comments he’s forgotten about as soon as he’s made them.”

“You’re right. I’ve talked to him about that myself, but he doesn’t see the problem. Your father’s always believed that blunt honesty is a virtue, even when it hurts. He thinks mollycoddling is a waste of time. He believes you children should know without a doubt that he loves you, no matter how harsh his criticism might be.”

“That worked fine with the rest of us, but not with Jess. She’s had too many obstacles to overcome.”

Gram regarded her worriedly. “Are you going to be able to help her to straighten this out?”

“I’m going to try,” Abby said. “Don’t worry, Gram. I know how important this is. The bank won’t take that inn away from her without a fight from me.”

Gram’s expression turned thoughtful. “Maybe it would be better if she had to save it for herself, instead of letting you rush to the rescue.”

“It probably would be,” Abby admitted. “But based on what she told me last night, I don’t think that’s going to be an option. She’s waited too long, and now there’s not enough time for her to pull everything together.”

“Does she want to borrow money?”

Abby shook her head. “She’s adamantly opposed to that. All she’s asked for is my business expertise.”

“Is that going to be enough?” Gram asked.

“I won’t know until I see her books,” Abby said honestly.

“Well, Jess made the right decision when she called you,” Gram said. “She’s been counting on you since she was a little bitty thing, and you’ve never once let her down.”

“Pile on the pressure, why don’t you?” Abby replied as she stood up. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to her grandmother’s cheek. “Thanks, Gram. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And Jess. It’s going to be okay. When O’Briens stick together, there’s nothing we can’t do.”

“That’s what you’ve always taught us,” Abby agreed.

Unfortunately, she was very much afraid it was going to take a lot more than family spirit and loyalty to save Jess’s inn.

3

Mick hadn’t been home for a month, not that Chesapeake Shores felt much like home anymore. He’d spent most of that time in a frustrating battle of wits with officials over building permits for his latest planned community north of San Francisco. Given the number of hurdles, he was beginning to question the wisdom of going through with the development. Then again, he’d put his reputation on the line for this one, and what would it say if he folded up and went away without a fight?

He’d just finished a meeting with his associates from O’Brien & Company, his contractors and the subcontractors about the latest delay when his cell phone rang. Glancing at caller ID, he saw that it was his mother, who rarely ever called him these days. In the past she’d only called in an emergency, and there’d been plenty of those with five kids in the house.

“Hey, Ma, how are you?” he said, walking away from the other men so he could have the conversation in private.

“Fit as a fiddle,” she said. “Wish I could say the same for your daughter.”

Mick felt his pulse speed up. “Is something wrong with Abby? Or Bree?” he asked. Then added almost as an afterthought, “Or is it Jess?”

“Interesting that your concern for Jess came last,” she said, her tone accusing. “That’s always been the problem between you two. Sometimes I think you forget you have three daughters. It’s little wonder the girl works so hard to try to get your attention.”

“I hope you didn’t call just to give me another lecture on how I’ve shortchanged Jessica. We’ve had that conversation too many times to count.”

“Then it amazes me that it has yet to sink in,” she retorted. “And actually that’s exactly why I called. When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“A few days ago, I suppose,” he said, searching his memory, but unable to come up with anything more precise. That gave some credence to his mother’s accusations, but he wasn’t planning to admit that anytime soon. He hadn’t spoken to Abby or Bree, either.

“More like a month, I imagine,” she said. “If I had to guess, I’d say it was when she drove you to the airport. I doubt you’ve given her a second thought since then.”

He winced as the barb hit its mark. “Okay, that’s probably right. What’s your point? She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need her dad checking up on her.”

“Checking up on her, no,” his mother agreed with undisguised impatience. “But how about checking in just to see how she’s doing, maybe asking how the inn is coming along, inquiring if she could use any help in getting it ready to open? Would those things be too much to expect from a loving parent, especially one with an entire construction company at his disposal?”

Mick bristled at the suggestion that he wasn’t interested in his own daughter’s life or that he’d been unwilling to help her out. “Jess made it plain she didn’t want my interference. You sat right there at the kitchen table when I offered to send one of my guys around to look things over and she turned me down flat.”

“Mick, for a bright man, you can be denser than dirt,” she chided. “Maybe she didn’t want one of your men over there. Maybe what she needed was you.”

Mick might be past fifty, but he still hated being called on the carpet by his own mother. He’d rather face down a hundred bureaucrats than be made to feel that somehow he’d let down his family. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know he’d failed them by making life so miserable for Megan that she’d left him. He hadn’t been able to fix that, and it was likely that whatever was going on right now with Jess wasn’t something he could fix, either. What kind of man was he? He’d built an international reputation as an architect and urban planner, but he couldn’t keep his own damn family together.

“Ma, why don’t you just say whatever’s on your mind? Is Jess in some kind of trouble? Does she need money? One of my crews? What? You know I’ll do whatever I can to help. All she needs to do is ask.”

His mother sighed heavily. “Mick, you know she’ll never do that.”

“Why, for God’s sake?” he asked, frustrated. “Who else should she ask? I’m her father.”

“Exactly. And she’s been trying to prove herself to you since the day her mother left. She thinks that was her fault because she was too much trouble, because she wasn’t smart enough.”

“Jess is smart as a whip,” he protested, exactly as he always did.

“Well, of course she is, but learning came hard for her. She thinks that was what sent her mother running. Kids as young as Jess was back then always think a divorce is their fault.”

“You’ve been watching Dr. Phil again,” he accused. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze my relationship with Jess.”

“Well, somebody has to fix it. It’s way past time. How soon can you get back here?”

“A few weeks, maybe. Longer unless you tell me what the hell is going on in plain English that my poor denser-than-dirt male brain can comprehend.”

“Don’t smart-mouth me. I’m still your mother.”

Mick nearly groaned. “Ma, please.”

“I think it’s possible she’s going to lose the inn before she even gets the doors open. If that happens, it will break not only her heart, but her spirit.”

The news caught him completely off guard. Even he recognized how that could affect his daughter, assuming it was true and not just the product of the local gossip mill. “What makes you think she’s going to lose the inn?”

“I’ve heard rumors the bank is considering foreclosure. And before you dismiss that as nothing more than speculation, I’ll tell you my source was reliable.”

Mick’s frustration mounted. “Dammit, I knew she was getting in over her head, but she signed all the paperwork and plunged into this without talking any of it over with me.”

“Because she needed to prove to you that she could do this all on her own.”

“Well, exactly what will she have proved, if the bank forecloses?”

“Michael Devlin O’Brien, don’t you dare come back here if all you’re going to do is throw her mistakes in her face. She needs her father, not a judgmental businessman.”

Now it was Mick’s turn to sigh heavily. If what his mother was saying was true, it put him between a rock and a hard place. “Ma, we both know I could fix whatever’s going on with one call to Lawrence Riley, but you know as well as I do that Jess won’t thank me for it.”

“True enough,” she admitted. “But we have to do something, Mick. Jess needs to make a success of this.”

“Do you really think she could lose the inn? Maybe it’s not that bad.”

“Jess called her sister, that’s how bad it is. Abby’s here now trying to help, but from the grim expression on her face this morning, it could take more than some sort of financial wizardry on her part to fix this. Come home, Mick. Whether she admits it or not, Jess needs your support right now. And of course, if you flew home tonight, you’d be able to spend some time with Abby and your granddaughters.”