Chapter 7
MICHAEL
Michael walked back into Hearts Hotel with Maggie's file under his arm and his heart still not quite where it was supposed to be.
He took the back staff entrance and made his way down the corridor toward Uncle George's office, nodding to the young woman at the front desk as he passed the lobby. The hotel was quietly humming with its midmorning rhythm. Somewhere in the back, Molly was clattering through pots in the kitchen, the smell of fresh bread drifting through the hall. Rosa was guiding a small cleaning trolley toward the upstairs lift. The hotel might not be as full as he remembered it to be at this time of year, but it was still alive. An ache hit Michael’s heart as he really needed to keep it this way.
Alive and as his family’s. He thought again, with a quiet ache, of how much it deserved to stay that way.
He let himself into the office he was now sharing with Linda and closed the door.
The room was empty. Linda must have gone over to Heart House. Good. He needed twenty minutes of quiet to put his head back together before she walked back in and read every flicker on his face the way she'd been reading him since they were children.
Michael set Maggie's file down on the desk and stood for a moment with his hand still on top of it. He forced himself not to think about what was going on with his rogue emotions and let his mind drift to what he remembered of Maggie’s husband.
The man hadn’t been around a lot in all the years Kevin and Maggie were married.
Michael remembered that most Christmases she’s shared with his family, Kevin must’ve attended three times.
Even at his own son’s funeral, he’d ducked out after five minutes at the gathering at Maggie’s house.
Maggie had made the excuse that Kevin was taking Daniel’s death badly, but it hadn’t seemed that way to Michael.
He’d watched the man the entire time, and even Evelyn had mentioned how cool and detached Kevin had looked.
Maggie was struggling, but she’d had to wear a mask for Toby, and someone had to be there for the guests.
Daniel’s wife and Laura’s family had also attended.
The only people on Laura’s side were her grandparents.
They lived in a retirement home, and Maggie was the only guardian capable of looking after Toby.
Something no one had had to ask her to do at all.
He was everything to her and the reason why Maggie had pushed through her grief as she had.
She was no stranger to grief and understood the journey through it.
Michael swallowed, and he closed his eyes as he remembered going to the bathroom, stopping by her bedroom door to find her quietly sobbing on her bed.
His heart had squeezed as he’d quietly pushed the door open and walked in.
He hadn’t said a word but sat beside her, pulled her into his arms, and let her cry.
He’d lost track of the time until Evelyn had found them there.
She knew the scene before her was nothing more than a friend comforting a friend.
She’d told them that the guests were starting to leave, and Michael and Toby had offered to go and see to it, while Evelyn took over for him for a while.
About twenty minutes later, Evelyn and a refreshed Maggie had walked back into the living room.
Most of the guests were leaving, but the dining table was filled with comfort food.
While Maggie had taken Toby to bed, Michael and Evelyn, along with Linda, had stayed behind to put the food away to help Maggie.
When she finally came back into the room, she was wearing sweatpants and a comfortable sweater.
Her feet were encased in nothing but a pair of chunky socks.
Linda stayed with her, and by the time Michael and Evelyn had left, which was hours later, Kevin still hadn’t returned.
Maggie had always made excuses for him, but they had all known what he was really like, and it was such a relief when Maggie announced their separation and, ultimately, their divorce.
She had never deserved to be treated the way that good-for-nothing husband of hers treated her.
Michael still couldn’t believe that the man had the audacity to try to get his greedy hands on Toby’s inheritance or Maggie’s boutique. Anger boiled through him. “You’re going down, Kevin Sullivan, and I’m so glad I’m the one who gets to finally cut the invisible ties you have on Maggie.”
He sat, pulled open Maggie's file to the first tab, and began to read in earnest.
For the next half hour, Michael went through her file.
He found the soft spots in Kevin's case.
He marked the boutique provenance as ironclad.
He flagged the inheritance trust as airtight.
He noted the timeline of Kevin's attorney's motions and circled three of them where the procedural choices were so weak he could file to have them dismissed with prejudice without breaking a sweat.
By the time he closed the first section of the file, he had four pages of strategy notes and the small grim pleasure of a man who knew exactly how to dismantle an opposing counsel inch by inch.
He set Maggie's file aside and pulled the Heart’s Hotel folder toward him.
This one was harder. The hotel's problems weren't a case to be argued.
They were a debt to be carried, paid down, and outgrown.
Michael ran his eye over the mortgage stacks again, the supplier statements, the long, careful ledger Martin had built of Tom's and Maggie's quiet contributions to the staff payroll.
He started a fresh page on his legal pad.
Three days. He wrote it at the top, then crossed it out. Two days, he corrected, until the Wayne meeting.
He'd told Martin to set it for the day after tomorrow at three in the afternoon.
That gave them two full working days to prepare the family's position, walk through the property valuations, anticipate every angle Mr. Wayne might come at them with, and decide together exactly how the no would be delivered.
It was tight. It was doable. Michael had built his career on tight and doable.
The office door opened.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm coming through," Linda said breezily, balancing a small laptop and a manila folder all in one careful armful. "Don't get up, I won't be in your hair long. Just need the desk for an hour."
"No problem," Michael answered, sliding his pad over to make room. "Do you need more space?"
“No, that should be fine," Linda replied, easing the laptop down. "I don’t need much room at all.” She eyes the piles of files Michael had neatly laid out in front of him.
"You don’t have as many files as I do," Michael said with a small smile. "I believe you went to see Uncle George this morning?” He sat back, fiddling with the pen in his hand. “How is he?"
"Better than yesterday," Linda answered. "He’s happy that you’re home."
"I don’t like the circumstances that brought me here, but I’m glad I’m here, too,” Michael concurred.
Linda curled her one leg beneath her as she settled herself into the chair on the other side of the desk, opposite him, turning to her laptop.
Michael smiled, remembering how many times they’d sat at this exact desk doing homework like this when they were kids.
All three of them… his thoughts skidded to a stop as another face he’d managed to put aside came to mind—Maggie.
Stop it, stop it! He admonished himself before turning back to his notepad and the hotel paperwork.
He was three lines into a fresh paragraph when Linda sucked in a sharp little breath.
Michael looked up. Linda was staring at her screen, her mouth slightly open.
"What is it?" Michael prompted.
"Michael," Linda said. "We have a reply email. I don’t think Martin read it yet."
"From?" Michael frowned, knowing it was a stupid question. He already knew who it was from.
"The Wayne Group," Linda answered, leaning closer to the screen as her eyes ran across the words.
Michael set his pen down. "Read it to me," he requested.
Linda cleared her throat and began to read aloud.
Dear Miss Heart and Mr. Hale,
Thank you for your prompt agreement to a meeting.
I can meet in three days and have the following times open: 10 am, 12 pm, and 2:30 pm. I would like to suggest we meet at the Hearts Hotel boardroom.
Please confirm if this day suits you and a time. Please let us know at your earliest convenience.
Regards,
Mr. D. Wayne
Wayne Group International.
Linda looked up.
"Three days," Linda repeated. "He's pushing it from two days to three."
Michael leaned back in his chair and let the email settle into his mind for a beat before he answered.
"The tone tells me he still thinks we're meeting to hear what he's offering.” His brow furrowed. “It’s also a strategic move to position us as the hosts of this meeting.”
“He can check out the hotel at the same time he tries to destroy it!” Linda hissed, her eyes flashing. “The audacity of the man.”
“Actually,” Michael counters. “The more time I get with the hotel information and to come up with a plan, as well as do more research, it's better for us.”
"So you’re all right with three days?" Linda asked, watching him intently.
Michael considered it, then nodded. "As I said, three is actually better," Michael answered after a moment.
"Two was tight. Three gives Martin and me an extra day with the books, and an extra day to come up with a basic plan to save the hotel.” He tapped the pen on his notepad thoughtfully before leaning forward. “Tell Martin to accept."
"I'll get him," Linda offered, sliding her chair back.
“Let’s just call,” Michael suggested and rang Martin’s office. “Martin, can you come to my office, please?”
“Sure,” Martin said, and it didn’t take too long before there was a knock on the door, and Martin stepped in.
“We got Mr. Wayne’s reply to your email,” Linda informed him.
“Good,” Martin said, nodding. “I’ve not checked the hotel email today.”