Chapter 11 Jack
JACK
Jack sat behind his desk in the small office that doubled as his project planning space and meeting room, watching the people gathered around the worn wooden table.
Holly sat to his right, her notepad open and pen ready.
Charlie was perched on the edge of her chair across from him, looking professional despite the casual setting.
Logan sat beside her, and his mother beside Logan and nearest the window, wearing that knowing smile she wore when she thought things were going according to some master plan only she understood.
“Alright, let’s go through where we are with everything,” Jack said, glancing down at his own notes. “We’ve made good progress over the past four days, but I want to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Holly flipped through her notebook. “We’ve completed the refinishing work on six of the guest rooms on the second floor. The woodwork looks beautiful, and the furniture restoration is coming along nicely. We still have four more rooms to tackle on that floor, plus the third-floor suites.”
“The structural work is progressing well,” Logan added, his voice carrying the confidence of someone who knew his trade inside and out.
“I’ve reinforced the support beams in the east wing, and the roof repairs should be finished by the end of the week.
Luckily, the weather’s been cooperating, which helps. ”
Jack noticed the way Logan’s gaze drifted to Charlie as he spoke, and the slight softening in Charlie’s expression when she glanced back at him.
A secret smile tugged at Jack’s mouth. They weren’t fooling anyone, those two, but it was up to them when they wanted to admit they were in a relationship.
He certainly wasn’t going to say anything.
“What about the legal side of things?” Jack asked, turning his attention to Charlie.
Charlie’s expression shifted to something more businesslike, though Jack caught the flicker of frustration in her eyes.
“Can you believe we are still waiting for the bank to get back to me about the loan modification options. I’ve been checking in daily, but these things take time, unfortunately.
” She paused, tapping her pen against her notepad.
“In the meantime, I’ve been doing some digging to find out who the developer is.
The one who’s been trying to pressure you into selling. ”
“Any luck?” Julie asked, her voice sharp with interest.
“Not yet,” Charlie admitted. “They’re hiding behind shell corporations and legal entities. But I’m working my way through the paper trail. Whoever they are, they don’t want to be identified, which tells me they know their offer isn’t legitimate or fair.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. He’d been dealing with pressure from this mysterious developer for months now.
Letters. Phone calls. Increasingly aggressive offers that felt more like threats than business propositions.
The inn had been in his family for generations, and he wasn’t about to let some faceless corporation bully him into selling.
“We’ll figure it out,” Logan said, and Jack noticed how he looked directly at Charlie when he said it. “Between Charlie’s legal expertise and my contacts in the construction world, we’ll track down who’s behind this.”
There was that look again. The one that said volumes about what was developing between them.
“The invitations for the Winter Ball went out yesterday,” Julie announced, her voice brightening with obvious excitement. “And I’ve already had a lot of replies. People are thrilled that we’re reviving the tradition.”
“How many confirmations so far?” Holly asked, making notes.
“Forty-three as of this morning,” Julie said with satisfaction. “And I expect that number to double by the end of the week. Everyone in St. Augustine on Anastasia Island remembers the Christmas Inn’s Winter Ball. It was the event of the season for decades.”
Jack felt warmth spread through his chest. His mother had been heartbroken when they’d had to cancel the ball in previous years due to financial constraints and the inn’s general state of disrepair.
Seeing her excitement now, watching her come alive with the planning, reminded him why he was fighting so hard to save this place.
It wasn’t just a building. It was history. It was family. It was home—his family’s home and hopefully future Christmas families for generations to come.
“Jane’s been doing incredible work with the ballroom,” Holly added. “She has such a clear vision for how everything should look. The decorations are coming together beautifully.”
“She’s a talented girl,” Julie said softly, pride evident in her voice. “She’s poured her heart into this place since she came back.”
Jack caught the shadow that passed over his mother’s face, the slight downturn at the corners of her mouth that appeared whenever she thought about Jane’s return.
He could still picture his daughter’s hollow-eyed stare that first day, how her wedding ring had hung loose on her finger, how she’d flinched at the sound of car doors slamming.
For months after the accident, she’d wake screaming, her hands clutching protectively at a belly no longer swollen with promise.
Now she transformed rooms with meticulous precision, working from sunrise until her fingers were raw and blistered, her clothes speckled with paint.
She’d collapse into bed only when exhaustion overpowered memory or her back injury reminded her it had only been two years and four months since she’d learned to walk again.
He recognized the pattern. After Pamela’s perfume had faded from their closets, he’d buried himself in blueprints and lumber orders, sawdust coating his skin like armor.
“I think that covers everything for now,” Jack said, closing his notebook.
“Logan, keep me posted on the roof work. Charlie, let me know the moment you hear anything from the bank or make progress on identifying the developer. Mom, you’re doing an amazing job with the ball planning.
” His smile softened. “Just don’t overdo things, okay. I don’t want you to collapse again.”
Julie beamed at him, and Jack felt that familiar swell of love for his mother. She’d held this place together when he’d been falling apart. She’d raised Jane practically single-handedly while he’d buried himself in work. She deserved to see the inn restored to its former glory.
Charlie, Logan, and Julie filed out of the office, their voices fading as they headed down the hallway. That left Jack and Holly alone in the suddenly quiet space.
Holly stood and stretched, rolling her shoulders. “So which room are we tackling today?”
“I thought we could get started on some of the dressers we marked as needing TLC,” Jack said, rising from his chair. “There are three in the storage shed that just need refinishing and new hardware. Should be a good day’s work.”
“Sounds perfect,” Holly agreed, gathering her things.
They both moved toward the door at the same time, neither paying attention to the other’s trajectory. Holly bounced off his chest with a small “oof” and nearly lost her balance.
Jack’s hand shot out instinctively, catching her arm and steadying her. “Careful.”
Their eyes met and held. Holly’s eyes were wide with surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly pink. Jack was acutely aware of how close they were standing, how his hand still rested on her arm, how he could smell the subtle floral scent of her shampoo.
The world seemed to fade around them. The inn’s usual sounds disappeared. All Jack could hear was his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Their heads started moving toward each other, almost unconsciously. Drawn together by something neither of them had named but both of them felt.
A loud crash from somewhere in the hallway shattered the moment. They jerked apart, both slightly shaken by what had almost happened.
“Sorry,” Holly said quickly, her voice a little breathless. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No, that was my fault,” Jack said, stepping back to give her space. His heart was racing wildly, and he could feel heat creeping up his neck. “After you.”
Holly slipped past him through the doorway, and Jack followed, trying to steady his breathing. As he watched her walk ahead of him down the hallway, the realization hit him with startling clarity.
He really was falling for her.
Not just attracted to her, though that was certainly true. Not just enjoying her company, though he looked forward to their morning runs more than anything else in his day. He was actually, genuinely falling for Holly Bennett.
The thought should have terrified him. After Pamela’s betrayal, after the years of bitterness and the slow process of rebuilding his life, he’d convinced himself he was better off alone. Safer that way. Less risk of being hurt again.
But Holly made him want to risk it anyway.
Before he could examine that thought too closely, his mother’s voice cut through his contemplation. “Jack, there’s a viper on the phone for you.”
Holly stopped walking and turned to look at him, confusion creasing her brow. Jack felt his entire body go tense, and he frowned, shaking his head with annoyance. He rolled his eyes, though the gesture did nothing to ease the sudden knot in his stomach.
“What does she want?” Jack said in a hushed tone, walking toward the front desk, where his mother held the phone receiver as if it might bite her.
“I have no idea,” Julie said, not bothering to put her hand over the receiver. “I didn’t want to talk to the viper for longer than I had to.” She shuddered. “You don’t know what you’re going to pick up from that witch.”
She thrust the phone at him, and Jack sighed deeply. Holly caught his eye and indicated that she’d go to the shed and get started on the dresser. He nodded gratefully, appreciating that she was giving him privacy for what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation.
Jack took the receiver and brought it to his ear, his tone clipped as he braced himself for a voice he’d hoped he’d never hear again. “Hello.”
“Hello, Jack,” Pamela’s voice seemed to ooze through the receiver, smooth and practiced. “I see your mother hasn’t lost her sense of humor.”
“I don’t think that was humor,” Jack said bluntly. “What do you want, Pamela?”
There was a pause on the other end, and when Pamela spoke again, her voice carried a note he didn’t recognize. Hesitation, maybe. “I was hoping to speak to Jane.”
Jack went very still. His protective instincts surged to the surface immediately. “Why?”
“Can’t I just want to talk to my daughter?” Pamela’s tone turned indignant, as if he were being unreasonable.
“I’d say you’re about thirty years too late for that,” Jack told her, his voice hard.
Another pause. Longer this time. “Look, I really need to talk to her.” Pamela’s voice shifted again, becoming quieter. “This is embarrassing, but I need to ask her something important.”
Jack’s grip tightened on the receiver. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to protect his daughter from whatever game Pamela was playing. “What could you possibly need to ask her that’s so important after thirty years of silence?”
“I have a medical condition,” Pamela said, and for the first time since he’d known her, she sounded genuinely vulnerable. “A genetic one. And I need Jane to get tested to see if she carries the marker.”
Jack felt the floor shift beneath him. His mind raced through possibilities, none of them good. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” Pamela said quietly. “Please, Jack. I know I have no right to ask. I know I gave up any claim to being her mother a long time ago. But this is important. This could affect her health, her future. I need to speak to Jane and ask her if she’ll get tested.”
Jack closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on him.
Jane had built a life without Pamela. She’d survived her mother’s abandonment and built walls to protect herself from ever being hurt like that again.
Letting Pamela back in, even for something like this, could shatter everything Jane had carefully constructed.
But if this was real, if this genetic condition was as serious as Pamela claimed, didn’t Jane have a right to know?
“I need more information before I even consider letting you anywhere near my daughter,” Jack said finally, his voice low and controlled. “What exactly are we talking about?”
And as Pamela began to explain, Jack felt his world tilting once again, the past reaching forward to complicate a present he’d been trying so hard to rebuild.