14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
D eclan
"Here it is," Hal says the next afternoon, sliding me the piece of paper with handwritten amounts on it. He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead and I wonder if he’s nervous to be having this meeting with me or if he’s simply naturally sweaty.
The thought flits across my mind randomly as I visually scroll down the list of items he's written down. I had him and his team do a once-over of the building and give me the rundown of what it would take to fortify the walls.
It’s just as I suspected. Even without adding interior redecoration and the plumbing, the renovation is taking upwards of a million dollars.
At that point, we might as well rebuild the entire thing and make everything new.
"I don’t know about demolishing it though, Chief," Hal suddenly comments, making me wonder if I said the words out loud. Then again, he's been against the demolition since I mentioned it to him during our first meeting in passing. He scratches his head and admits, "Like I said before, I don’t think a lot of people in town are going to like that."
I raise an eyebrow. "And I should care about that because…"
Hal wipes his hand over his forehead again and admits. "I know you shouldn’t. It's your hotel after all. But it’s just that...Like I said, this hotel has been standing here for the past century. They sometimes even talk about how sacred it is in church. Loads of folks are attached to the place. We hold festivals here and –"
"Yes, I heard." I wave a hand, annoyed.
I've never understood how people can get so attached to buildings. My father with his first hotel. And now the townspeople with this piece of junk that is basically hanging together by duct tape and prayers. "Prepare for a demolition next week. I’d like to get this show on the road." So I can go back home.
Although, I don't feel the same urgency to return to New York as I did before.
I stiffen my muscles to keep from recalling last night, the passion that exploded between Emma and me.
The unbelievable feel of her in my arms still amazes me.
And being buried inside her was nothing short of euphoria.
My cock twitches at the thought.
I don't want to admit that that’s probably why I’m not in as much of a hurry to go home as before.
Although I should leave here as soon as possible. Because one night with her wasn’t enough to get her out of my system. I want more.
And I shouldn’t want more.
"That will be all," I tell Hal.
He nods and stops wringing his hat, slapping it back on his bushy head.
"I'll tell my boss," he says as heads back to the entrance. He pauses. "Do you still need the old plans?"
I shrug. "Sure why not?" Couldn't hurt to see the old design of the place. Maybe if I keep the new design as close to the old one as possible, it'll make the people happy.
Not that I necessarily care about making them happy, but it's better not to have too many enemies.
Once Hal is gone, I take a deep breath and lean back in the seat. I shut my eyes, feeling the beginning of a dull throb at my temples. I have a family physician on speed dial, but I already know what he would say.
Too much work and not enough rest.
You need to slow down.
Fuck that. If I didn't work as hard as I did, I wouldn't have a damn thing to do with my time.
I decide to go for a walk beside the lake.
I will admit that even though this hotel is overrated and probably powered by superstition, this lake makes it nearly worth the hassle.
It's beautiful.
There's something nearly magical about its stillness despite the soothing breeze that rustles the trees on the other side. As I stroll this afternoon, I picture the story my daughter told me about the lovers... How the man would come to the lake almost every night to see if he could catch a glimpse into her window.
"He would look for rainbow pearls on the shore for her," Amelia said. "You know, because they're said to be a symbol of love. And the Pink Pearl is the strongest of them. Any couple with a Pink Pearl will be together forever. Isn't that super romantic?"
"Right," I responded at the time, feeling less amused with each retelling of the story. I don't mind that my daughter liked to indulge in fantasy stories once in a while. But I don't want her to take those stories as factual.
She's too old to believe in fairy tales, and I want her to live in reality.
But it is real. I can almost hear Emma's protest now. She seemed so certain when she told me that the diary was real and the stories about the theft and the disappearance of the three thieves and the woman were true too.
It was clear from her gaze that she believed everything she was saying.
So her grandfather probably indoctrinated her with that story too. After all, he used to work at the hotel. Disappearing women, dead lovers, and the Pink Pearl. Rainbow Pearls. All of that was probably a carefully designed ruse meant to attract tourists and then charge them for a mystical experience.
And this lake was probably a huge part of selling it. It’s not hard to think of a longing lover standing by the shore, searching for something nice to give his sweetheart. Or even of Emma swimming up from the other side and standing naked with her decadent body looking like a siren.
And then when she steps up, she can come closer and run her hands over my shoulders, and I can kiss her lips as I draw her closer, inhaling her. Or maybe just stand and admire her. Just stare into her eyes and dream.
"Declan?"
I turn around and spot Emma coming from behind me. I frown even as my heart starts beating faster.
Is she real? Or did I just conjure her up too?
But then she reaches me, and I perceive her fresh lake scent. And I know she’s real.
Maybe the lake brought her to me. Maybe it's magical after all.
I chuckle internally at the ridiculous thought, as I brush a strand of her curly hair behind her ears.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi," she responds, blushing a little when my fingers make contact.
We stare at each other for a few seconds.
And then she shakes her head as though suddenly remembering why she came here. "I heard a rumor back in town. I just came over to make sure that it wasn’t true. You’re not demolishing the Pink Hotel are you?"
Wow, news travels fast. Instead of answering, I glance behind her to notice a small car parked in the driveway. "You drove up here in that?"
She glances behind her and then back to me. "I did. Why?"
Because the car looks like it's on its last leg, with a faded body and wires hanging out the bottom. It’s an old Jetta, probably made in the nineties.
"Why didn’t you use the truck?" I remember the last time I was at her grandpa's house seeing a truck parked in the back.
"Because it doesn’t work too well," she says. "And is it just me, and are you avoiding the question?"
"Is it that hard for people in this town to mind their business?"
"It’s a small town. Privacy is the trade-off." Her frown deepens. "So it’s true then? You're demolishing the hotel."
"It will take too much time and money to renovate the place," I say. "And even with that, I'm not sure that it won’t fall apart again, just seeing how weak the walls are. It’s better to raze it all and start again."
"No, Declan, you can’t do that." She reaches out to touch my wrist and her hold sparks electricity up my arm. "This hotel...it's been in our town for–"
"A century, yes I heard. Hal already gave me the sales spiel." I grin at her then turn to the hotel and point. She doesn’t laugh back. Instead, she points at the hotel.
"When you look at this place, you just see a building," she says. "But do you want to know what I see when I look at it? I see history. Every single haunted house I've ever been to since I was six. The fall fair brings in people from all over. The church bonanza. Yearly school trips and explorations. Where grandpa worked. My parents…" She trails off after that last part.
"Your parents?"
She shakes her head. "My parents used to bring me here all the time. They met here. It makes me think of them. A lot of history is in this building. You can't just take that away."
"Mm." It’s the first time Emma ever mentioned her parents and I want to ask, but there’s a tendril of pain in her voice that tells me it’s a heavy story. And I don’t want to pry.
At least, I tell myself I don't want to pry, even though a part of me is hungry for that information.
Nevertheless, despite everything she said, it didn't change my decision.
"You want to know what I see when I look at it?" I ask, and she blinks at me as I jab my chin at the same building. "I see a wall that could come down at any moment. Wooden floorboards that are a lawsuit waiting to happen. I see a chandelier that will take thousands of dollars to return to its former polish. I see the fact that this place isn’t condemned to be a travesty."
I almost regret my words when devastation sinks into her features.
But it's important to drag her back to reality.
Before either of us can say anything further, we're interrupted by the fervent revving of a vehicle.
And by vehicle I mean a sleek red Bugatti that just about screams its presence from miles away. I frown at the approach. That kind of car seems wholly out of place in a town like this. And I hate the way the loudness shatters through the trees, disturbing the delicate nature. It feels disruptive and rude.
And then the car drives right up to my hotel and the driver gets out of the car.
I groan.
"Who’s that?" Emma asks.
"You don't want to know," I respond.
Micah, dressed in what appears to be a black Armani suit. The two top buttons of his shirt are undone and he walks up to us with his usual swagger and takes off his dark sunglasses.
His eyes give Emma an appreciative once over and he says, "Well hello beautiful. If I had known I would be seeing you today, I would have worn the silver Armani. Brings out my eyes better than this junk."
Emma grins and blushes a little despite herself. "You look fine," she says. "But I think you probably already knew that."
"You're right." He winks. "I knew it. But it's nice hearing it from you, though."
Emma shakes her head still smiling and I frown as a dark emotion flows through me. My stomach clenches itself.
Jealousy?
Never. I probably ate something rotten.
"What do you want?" I ask Micah.
He raises an eyebrow. "Well hello to see you too, Grumpy. What crawled into your sleeping tent?"
"I have a lot of work to do. So tell me what you want and then get lost."
"Declan," Emma scolds. "You're being rude."
"Yeah Declan, don't be rude to your good friend, Micah." Micah grins when he says it.
I ignore him, turning back to Emma. "Do you want me to give you a ride home? I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you driving back in that."
"Oh, it'll be fine. I drive Annie all the time."
"Annie?"
"Yeah. She's Lou's car."
I don't even want to ask who Lou is. It seems Emma knows far too many people for me to keep track of.
"Besides," she says. "I'm not going home. I'm going to check in on my Grandpa. Gracie says there's a good chance he wakes up today."
"Alright," I say, not asking who Gracie is either. "Tell him I said hi, I guess."
"Will do. I'll see you later. And it was nice meeting you..." She lets it trail off for one of us to fill in the silence.
I don't volunteer but Micah winks at her again.
"Micah," he says. "But pretty soon, you'll be calling me yours."
Emma snorts. "Right. I'll see you around, Micah. Declan."
But before she leaves, for some mad reason I step in, blocking Micah's view, and kiss Emma on the cheek. Her eyes flare open in surprise, and she touches the spot, blinking at me.
"I'll see you later," I tell her.
"Yeah," she whispers. To my utmost satisfaction, she doesn’t spare Micah a single glance as she walks away.
"Well, well, well." Micah sounds amused, but rather than comment on Emma he turns to the hotel. He sniffs. "Is this the place?"
"Yes."
He frowns." I was hoping you would give me a tour, but I'm not sure I want to step one foot inside there. With my karma, it will come collapsing on me."
"It’s not so bad." I hate that I suddenly sound defensive. "The foundation is solid but for the few cracks."
Micah raises his eyebrow. "Don't tell me you actually plan on completing this project."
"It's what our parents agreed on," I say noncommittally.
"Yeah, but I thought you would have the good sense to see how ridiculous that idea is." He shakes his head. "Can you imagine? My father told me that he wants me to run this place once it's done. Well I for one don’t plan on running a hotel in the middle of nowhere. Unacceptable. This is not my style at all."
"And what exactly do you plan on doing? Convincing your dad?"
Micah tuts, shaking his head. "My dear friend, Declan. I thought you were smarter than that. Clearly, reasoning with our folks isn't the way to go here. My old man is probably nearing dementia and is as stubborn as an old goat."
I cross my hands over my chest. "So you have another idea then?"
"Obviously. There's only one way to resolve this issue." A mischievous grin splits his face. "Good old sabotage."