Up To Me (Shore Secrets #1)

Chapter Ten

For the one-zillionth time in the last eighteen hours, Gray called himself an idiot. He’d had a half-naked and more-than-willing Ella literally in the palm of his hand. Literally begging him to have sex. Something they both wanted, very much. Being a normal man with a healthy sex drive, Gray had never once before turned down sex from a beautiful and willing woman. But he’d discovered the ultimate cock block: his own conscience.

He parked the car in the gravel lot in front of Cosgrove General Store. And gave in to the urge to bang his head on the steering wheel a couple of times. Damn it, he’d been nothing but upfront about his intention to leave and not look back at the end of two weeks. That should’ve cleared the way for guilt-free sex. Gray got out and slammed the door. Opened it and slammed it again, harder. He’d paid for the insurance on the rental. He could stand out here all day slamming away his frustration out if he chose.

But then he felt a snuffling at the hem of his jeans. Looked down to discover Mitzi wagging her tail, which meant Dawn couldn’t be far.

“Nice to see you again, Gray. Is Ella treating you well up at the Manor?”

A flashback hit Gray of Ella, clutching him while thrusting her breasts through the water at his face. “She’s going above and beyond.”

Dawn clapped her hands to get Mitzi’s attention, then headed inside. “Good to know. She’s got hotels in her blood, you know. Treating people right is instinctual for her.”

Was it possible the woman knew what happened between them last night? And was taunting him? Or was he so swamped with sexual frustration that he was reading innuendo into perfectly innocent remarks? Either way, he needed a new topic. Gray followed her through the screen door. Unlocked, he noted. Her trust level was off the charts optimistic or na?ve. Maybe both.

“I’m headed down to Watkins Glen today. This seemed like a good halfway point to grab some lunch.”

“I’ve got just the thing. Our special today’s a meatloaf sandwich.”

“Sounds perfect.”

He’d no sooner gotten a root beer out of the cooler and taken a seat on a stool then the door crashed open, followed by a heavy, hurried clomping of what sounded like boots. Sure enough, through the travel mug/shot glass aisle appeared Casey in her full ranger get-up. Cute, but not with the natural-disaster scowl on her face. “What’s going on? Is somebody dead? Eloping? Win the lottery?”

Gray slowly clapped. “Very dramatic entrance. Well done. But a simple hi, how’s your day going would’ve been enough to grab our attention.”

All but skidding to a halt, Casey gaped at him. “What are you doing here?”

She’d been a lot friendlier the last time they met. “Eating lunch,” he said, although that seemed as obvious as a Yankee fan at a Sox game, what with him sitting at the counter and it being straight up noon.

“I can’t believe Ella pulled you into this.” She shook her head as she sat down next to him. “No offense, Gray. You’re a cool guy. You stood up for Ward and put the giddy-up back in Ella. But this is too serious to share with strangers.”

Now she had his full attention. Trouble—in any size or shape—always pinged on his radar during an assessment. “What is?”

Casey threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t know.”

They might as well be re-enacting the who’s on first discussion. “For God’s sake. Do you need to take a minute and figure out what the hell you’re trying to say?”

“It’s an emergency. That’s all I know.”

Timing was everything. Apparently he’d scored a ringside seat for something big. “What emergency? Who’s having one?” And then all thoughts of his job and what he might learn faded away as he replayed her words. Most importantly, the source of Casey’s knowledge. As his gut tightened, Gray asked, “Is it Ella?”

Another door slam. Much heavier boots clomped across the pine flooring. “This is nuts,” Ward proclaimed. “Ella obviously knows how to use a cell phone. She texted us all to come. Why couldn’t she just text us the rest of the message? Why did I have to leave the distillery in the middle of the damn day?”

“Because Ella doesn’t cry wolf. If she needs us, we’re here for her. No questions asked. So stop sniping before she gets here.” Piper walked in the back door and straight behind the counter to give Dawn a hug. She sure classed up the joint, with a white top, purple pants and a twisty scarf with both colors shot through it. “That sandwich looks amazing.”

“It will be—for Gray.” Dawn handed him the plate covered in chips, coleslaw and a slab of meatloaf as thick as his wrist sticking out from lettuce, Swiss and tomato on a kaiser roll. Barbecue sauce dripped down the sides. Heaven on a plate. “Piper, you know where everything is. You can make one for yourself if you want. I’m going to go put Mitzi in the office.”

“Piper Morrissey cooking?” Casey stuck her tongue in her cheek. “Must be a blue moon tonight.” She leaned her elbows on the counter and stole a chip off Gray’s plate. “Why don’t you double down on that sandwich making? I don’t want to miss out on this rare occasion.”

“Very funny.” And stuck out her tongue as she rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse. “Making a sandwich isn’t cooking. Anyone can slap a few things in between two slices of bread.”

Ward dropped onto the stool on the other side of Gray. “Great. Slap one together for me, too.”

Her hands stilled with bread halfway out of the bag. “I’m not making you a sandwich. Just like I won’t rub your feet. Or keep you company while you wait three hours for the cable repairman. I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Ward.”

Well. Damn. That explained the hot-and-cold-running animosity between the two of them. Gray wondered how long ago they’d pulled the plug on that. Cause feelings sure seemed to still be running hot and bothered.

Ward’s fingertips dug into the polished wood edge of the counter. “Jesus, I didn’t ask for a blow job, Piper. It’s just lunch. Do you have to pick a fight every time we’re in the same room?”

She looked at Gray. Or rather, noticed that Gray was angled to stare at both of them. Hell, he didn’t think he’d blinked since she dropped that little historical bomb into the conversation. Then she looked over at Casey, who shook her head and tsked. That was all it took to send Piper’s hand back into the bag to pull out another couple of slices.

“Sorry, Ward. I’m on edge. Worried about Ella. Taking it out on you is a habit I promise I’m trying to break. Some days biting your head off is just a little too easy. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

His fingers relaxed, but he didn’t look convinced. “Without spitting in it?”

“Don’t push your luck.” But she smiled as she set out three plates.

Having all of them here gave Gray the opportunity to push a little on the city planner/treasurer debacle. Well, for now, just your basic, sordid adulterous hook-up. But it certainly had the potential to turn into a debacle. And if there was a single cent misappropriated from town funds to support their not-so-secret romance, Gray would have no choice but to recommend Ruffano & McIntosh stay as far away as possible. Better yet, Martin wouldn’t be able to fight him on that finding. Their Board of Directors would never okay expansion into a town on the brink of bankruptcy.

“You’ve got me hooked with your local-government version of a soap opera. Any new developments?” He took a bite of his sandwich. Christ, it was good. Thanks to Dawn’s and Joel’s cooking, Gray mentally added a second run to his plan for the afternoon. On the other hand, his massive sexual frustration, much like stress, might burn the calories off him. So at the rate he and Ella weren’t going, maybe he’d have to up his donut intake just so his pants didn’t fall off his hips.

“The Pam and Larry sex scandal burning up the ears of every gossip in town?” Piper ran the knife through the sandwich hard enough to cut an aluminum can. Chances were good that she’d put two and two together to the same potential zero balance in the town coffers that Gray had. “There are new details about every five minutes. Whether or not any of them are true is another story.”

Dawn pulled sodas out of the cooler for everyone. “Her husband doesn’t know yet. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Ward snorted. “And I’d like my farts to turn into stacks of crisp hundred dollar bills. You know what? I think my fart wish has a higher likelihood than Roger not clueing in to what everyone else in town knows already.”

“You’re all eating,” Dawn said mildly. But Gray recognized the rebuff implicit in her words. God knew he’d heard practically the same thing out of his mother more times than he’d bother to count.

“Pardon me.” Ward shot both his pinkies up. “I’d like my burps to turn into stacks of crisp hundred dollar bills.”

“Much better,” she said with a snort. “Let me put it another way. Roger’s expected back by the end of the week. That gives Pam and Larry a couple of days to clean up their act. I’m hoping they do. Whether they manage to or not, Roger won’t hear a word about the situation from any of you, will he?”

“Of course not.” Casey shook her head back and forth so hard her ponytail snapped against her cheek. Piper and Ward nodded in agreement. Gray realized the silence was his cue. Like they thought he’d actually waste his supposed vacation time tracking down Roger the trucker to tell him his wife was a cheating slut. So he, too, nodded the assent they seemed to want from him.

“Official town council business, after all. I’m just an outsider.” Weird that he needed to remind them.

Another slam of the screen door, followed by the unmistakable—to him—slap of Ella’s sneakers. He put his sandwich down and turned around to check her out. Today’s version were black, covered in pink and white hearts. Almost the same pink as the heat washing into her cheeks when she noticed him. God, she was adorable.

“Oh, Gray, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

For a town that had bent over backwards to be hospitable so far, today he felt about as welcome as a case of crabs. “Yeah, that seems to be the consensus.”

He could almost see the thoughts tumble through her mind. The deepening of the pink stain that had cropped up on her cheeks had to be memories of last night. The sidelong glance taking in all her friends at the counter probably gauged their interest level in how she interacted with Gray. The way she stood, stock-still, figuring out her next move. Gray wouldn’t have put a measly nickel on whether she came to him or not.

But he was damn happy when she covered the space between them in a half skip. Spun his stool around more so that she could move right in between his thighs. And then slid her arms under his like they’d done it a hundred times before. “Hi.”

“Right back at you.” Ella’s pink top was untucked from the top of her skirt. Okay, maybe he’d just tugged it out a second ago, but the end result was that he rested his fingers against the warm smoothness at the small of her back. Gray wondered just how far her courage would take her. Sure, she’d agreed to a real date, out in public. But PDA in front of her friends was expecting a lot right out of the gate. So he waited.

For about the blink of an eye. Then Ella fitted her lips to his. Without hesitation. Without another glance at her friends. Nope, she just tuned out the rest of the world and tuned into him. Sweet, soft and utterly irresistible. Not that he tried. The taste of her fired happiness through him. Gray tightened his hold on her. Deepened the kiss just enough to tease a tremor through her body. Then he eased back and tugged her shirt back down over her waistband.

“You two want to move this to the canoe upstairs for some privacy?” asked Ward.

“Maybe another time,” Ella sassed back. She kept her fingers twined with Gray’s. It felt good on a couple of levels. His sandwich could wait. Holding her hand filled him up more than three squares ever could. “Unfortunately, I’m here for some serious help, not for flirting.”

“Are you sure?” Gray stroked a finger down the inside of her arm from elbow to wrist, ending right on the spot where her pulse suddenly sped up. “Because I’m a great multi-tasker.”

Casey planted her elbows on the counter and leaned forward. Looked at each of her friends, gave a lingering look to Gray, then ended back on Ella. “Whatever’s going on, are you sure you want an outsider as a witness? I mean, in case we start planning exactly where to bury the body. Cause an accidental corpse is about the only reason I can come up with that you’d drag us here on such short notice on a work day.”

“We’ve got to branch your reading out from the true crime stacks,” Piper murmured. “A little romance full of dukes, lace and petticoats would do wonders for your mind-set. And maybe improve your fashion sense.” She circled a finger at Casey’s forest green shorts.

“I’m a New York state ranger. You think anyone’s going to take me seriously in a getup like yours?” Casey stabbed a finger right back at Piper, adding in a sneer for good measure.

“You think anyone takes you seriously now in your Bermudas? Aside from Yogi Bear, that is?”

Ward stretched out an arm between them to stop the good-natured and obviously long-running squabble. “If he wants to, Gray can stay. I’ll vouch for him.”

“You will?” Casey and Gray spoke at the same time in a chorus of surprise.

“He stepped up when those asswipes tried to take me down last week. Then Gray spent half a day labeling and hauling boxes for me yesterday.” And in doing so, Gray had squeezed twice as much information out of Ward and Joel than he’d get out of statistical summaries. They’d given him a good sense of when the tourist drop-off occurred, and for how long. How much impact it had on the town as a whole. And he felt less guilty than usual for pumping them for unknowing intel with all the work he’d put into the bottling process. “As far as I’m concerned, Gray’s solid.”

Casey whistled, low and long. “The Ward Cantrell seal of approval isn’t easy to come by. I call it a rare phenomenon.”

After a quick squeeze of Ward’s hand, Ella kissed Gray on the cheek. “I call it a delightful surprise. And actually, it might be useful that you’re here. You said that you used to work for a hotel. You might be able to help me come up with a solution to my big problem.”

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.”

“No, damn it.” The ice in her voice thawed, and then some. Heat flared behind her eyes as her temper snapped. “This isn’t up for discussion.”

“Don’t be stupid, Ella.”

“Don’t think you’ll get any-freaking-where by calling me stupid.”

“Then don’t act like it.” He slapped a palm on the counter. “You can’t let emotions get in the way of business. Instead of just hating on that HRM degree you got, why not use what you learned for once? Think about profit margins and the hard, cold reality of what you don’t have in the bank.”

Her jaw dropped. Ella gaped at him for a moment. Then slitted her eyes and launched into him. “I can’t believe you’d throw that in my face. I do think about how bad the situation is. Not just for me, but what would happen to all the people the Manor employs if we shut down. Looking at a bunch of red ink on spreadsheets isn’t nearly as difficult as calculating the human cost. But nothing is worth spending a cent of that blood money. It. Is. Wrong.” Her voice dropped to a slow, deep grumble at the end.

“You said you wanted to brainstorm.” Gray whipped his head around as Piper spoke, surprised that she seemed to be backing him up. Good thing, too, since she gave a time-out to what had been shaping up into an epic fight. “Any idea, no matter how far-fetched or stupid or insensitive, gets at least a mention in a brainstorming session. Because we all know there is no secret room full of treasure to save you.”

Ward chimed in with a half-shrug. “Gray’s idea isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“What if you made a pro/con list for it?” Casey added.

Looked like the opinion tide had shifted. Yeah, Gray was the first one to urge Ella not to follow majority rule when it came to her life. He saw the blazing hypocrisy in hoping that, since her friends saw the reasoned logic in his suggestion, Ella would, too. Still, it would sure make things easier if she listened to him and his backup chorus of her own friends.

Ella nodded. Crossed her arms over her chest. She looked ready to go a full nine rounds. “Okay. I’ll start a list. Con—the only reason that money exists is because my mother was impaled by a steel rod through her head. My father bled out in front of me. Every cent of that money stands for a drop of their blood spilled that night.” Ella planted her hands on her hips, the jut of her chin daring them to push her any further. “So forgive me if I can’t get past that to come up with any pros. I can't rely solely on reason and logic. This goes deeper than that. Maybe I’ll have to accept it down the road. For now, I need to find another solution.”

Yeah. There was an invisible line in the sand about the Mayhews, and Gray had knowingly stepped about a mile over it. No surprise she’d kicked his ass back across it. He wouldn’t apologize. Wouldn’t back down if she ever brought it up again. The idea was still valid. But he wouldn’t stay and beat his head against the metaphorical wall around her parents’ money, either. Fighting this particular fight got him nowhere. With a pang of regret for abandoning the other half of his sandwich, Gray made a production of looking at his watch. “I should go. I’m scheduled for a boat ride around the lake.” He pushed off the stool.

Ella stopped him with a hand on his arm before he’d made it two steps. He considered shaking it off. They both clearly needed to shake off their mad before saying anything else to each other. But his mom had drilled better manners than that into him. Slowly, he turned to face her. And was surprised by the small, hopeful uptilt to her lips.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t know my parents were off limits. I shouldn’t have exploded. If you have any other constructive suggestions based on your knowledge of the hotel industry, I’d be more than happy to take those under advisement.”

A woman who didn’t hold a grudge. Who dropped her temper in a heartbeat, without sulking. Gray could hardly believe it. He took the olive branch. “I’ll think on it. I really do want to help.”

She nodded in acknowledgement. “Remember, you’re meeting me for yoga later. No excuses.”

“I’ll be there. But I plan to have plenty of excuses at the ready when it comes to standing on my head.”