3. George #2
George frowned, rubbing his temples as a familiar, sharp ache began to throb behind his eyes. Not this again. He nodded slowly, letting out another long sigh before his nephew could continue.
"I have a question to ask you, and I need you to answer me truthfully." George had a terrible feeling history was about to repeat itself.
"Of course," Michael said, nodding.
"Did you know about the hotel's financial crisis before you came home?" George watched him closely, weighing every line of the young man's expression. "I mean, before Linda told you about the debt structure when she came back this time?"
Michael's brows knitted a little tighter together. "No."
George nodded, frustration rising alongside the quiet heat of his anger. His nephew appeared to be telling the truth, but then again, the man was one of the sharpest corporate attorneys in Florida. He knew exactly how to maintain a flat, unreadable professional mask under pressure.
"Did Linda?" George asked.
"No," Michael shook his head, his hands deep in his pockets. "We only found out the truth this summer."
"So Maggie, Owen, or Martin never mentioned a single word to either of you?" George pressed, lowering his voice. "What about Tom? Surely he would have updated you as your stepfather."
"No," Michael stated, his voice dripping with a heavy undertone of disdain and sarcasm. "They all bowed down to your threats against exposing just how much trouble the business was in."
George's brows rose as he met his nephew's accusatory expression. The weight of the family's judgment felt heavy in the quiet room.
"I see," George said quietly.
"What is this all about?" Michael asked, his tone shifting back into a demanding, sharp edge. "I thought you would be thrilled that we found a legal defense that can stop the hounds banging on our doors to steal our heritage from us."
George rolled the top of the brown paper bag closed, his appetite vanishing. He placed the warm pastries onto the bedside table and leaned back against the high pillows, a heavy wave of exhaustion rolling over his chest.
"Tell me," George started, holding his nephew's gaze firmly. "How exactly did this happen, or rather, who discovered the pottery?"
Michael ran through the sequence of events again, explaining how the construction crew fixing the basin uncovered the first shards.
He detailed how Linda went down to inspect the stone, then contacted Owen to verify the findings.
To ensure the discovery carried massive legal weight with the historical preservation board, they had immediately brought in an outside expert in field archaeology to run a formal validation.
George stiffened against his cushions, his eyes narrowing as a dark, familiar suspicion bloomed behind his ribs. He held up a sharp, commanding hand.
"Stop right there. Close this operation down right now," George snapped.
"What?" Michael's eyes blazed, his posture going rigid. "Are you losing your mind? No."
"If you don’t close this down, you are going to make fools of us," George hissed, his voice turning into a harsh, warning whisper.
"What is going on with you?" Michael asked, staring at him as if his uncle had truly lost his senses.
"We need this discovery to stall the sharks circling our front door.
We managed to get the Wayne Group to back off their foreclosure strategy, but...
" His jaw clenched tight, his dark eyes glaring down at the bed rails.
"We have another, much more dangerous entity circling right now.
This excavation is moving forward with or without your approval.
You forget that the hotel does not belong to you alone.
Linda and I both hold legal shares in this property, equal to yours. "
George kept his voice flat and calm, masking the old ache in his chest. He knew this day would come eventually.
"Let me tell you a story." George glanced up at the square ceiling tiles, counting the small acoustic lines.
It was a history he had promised himself he would never repeat to a living soul, but he had to protect his family from the exact same humiliation and heartbreak that had broken him decades ago.
"Many years ago, long before the pool basin was moved to its current location so we could expand the layout, the exact same sequence of events took place.
" He cleared his throat, the sound rough in the quiet room.
"The Wayne Group was aggressively pursuing the property, but our financials were much stronger back then, and I turned them down flat.
It was right before that terrible car accident took Harold and Eleanor Wayne.
" His eyes flickered with an old, lingering pain.
"They were decent people," he whispered.
“What was that?” Michael leaned a fraction closer to the bed rail, his brow furrowing. "I didn’t catch that last part."