Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
A shley wasn’t leaving the Inn because she’d given up or because she was following his orders. It just so happened that his suggestion to take the rest of the morning off and stop at the boardwalk had been her plan all along. Or so she’d repeat until the sentiment became a mantra as she headed on foot toward the shops a couple miles away.
Joggers and cyclists passed her as she followed the path along the shoreline. It was too early for other leisurely strollers. She filled her lungs with fresh air and let the cool morning breeze chill her hot skin. The morning couldn’t have gone worse. She’d been doing a decent enough job until she sank the lifeguard chair in the lake. Did he suspect her of sabotage or foolishness? She didn’t know which option was better.
At least he had taken the time to inspect the lighthouse.
He might not believe her fears about a ghost, and with another night in a warm, cozy bed, she wasn’t sure she believed it either, but he still investigated the scene. As she finished setting the cones, she lost sight of him. She’d returned the mesh bag to the shed and grabbed the lifeguard chair and umbrella. She wheeled the white chair out of the shed when motion caught her eye. Standing on tiptoes, she’d craned her neck to watch him exit the lighthouse and stepped away from the chair. Then disaster struck from a careless oversight.
It was the third mistake since Christopher handed her the folder yesterday. She hated to admit she was probably in over her head with the Inn. If she couldn’t run the resort, what else could she do? On her own, she hadn’t exactly blazed a trail to success. Rather, she’d slunk off and licked her wounds, waiting to return.
She shook her head as she reached the boardwalk, climbing the steps to the raised walkway and shops along the curve of the lakeshore. She wasn’t meant for menial tasks. As the boss, she’d be great, utilizing her skills of managing and charming people as the moment demanded. And she’d show him by interviewing the shopkeepers.
She wouldn’t mind a couple scoops of rocky road for breakfast. She wasn’t sure forcing him out was best for the Inn. And if she did, she wasn’t prepared to lead a mob of angry villagers behind her. But she wanted to hear what they said about him.
Pushing up the door of Scoops, There It Is, she was greeted with nineties R she’d have to build new connections in the present. Laughing wasn’t in her favor.
“Or her. Soupy could be female.” Ashley smiled. “It was nice to see you. Both of you.”
She exited the ice cream shop before she said anything she couldn’t walk back. With her morning off, she’d wanted to reconnect with her old neighbors and not jeopardize her good standing with anyone. She strode along the boardwalk, slowing in front of each shop to see if she recognized anyone inside the businesses.
Busy with customers, the shops were filled with life and energy. She couldn’t fault Christopher for wanting to keep the area thriving. The Inn and the shops did more than coexist. They elevated each other. Conversely, they had the power to drag each other down. His method wasn’t surprising but did threaten both sides.
She could bridge the gap. But she had to stay, and she wasn’t sure he wanted her to.
* * *
Christopher wasn’t much for pensive silences only broken by heavy sighs. But that had become his norm since his wife’s return. He couldn’t figure out if she wanted to team up, to take over, or to ruin the business. Maybe she was crafting a toxic concoction of all three.
He turned away from the window and strode to his desk. The lawn was torn in a pair of deep slashes, marking the crane’s path around the building to rescue the chair. Now, he’d have to fix the formerly lush lawn with a fortune spent on fresh sod.
He hadn’t really had much option to do anything but solve the problem. He’d closed the beach and called in his groundskeeping team. After a few failed attempts to drag the chair out with chains and a truck, it became clear the situation required a heavy hand and not delicate maneuvering.
So, he’d called for help. As he had watched the work from the lawn, his brow deeply furrowed, he compared the chair with his wife. Ashley shouldn’t be trusted with any equipment for the safety of herself and his sanity. He wanted to best utilize her charm with the guests. She could tell campfire ghost stories as long as someone else controlled the flames.
She’d scare herself and the guests. He couldn’t determine the best path to dealing with her on the lawn. But in the process of standing outside, he had made everyone involved nervous with his glowering. He retreated upstairs, eating a sandwich brought to him by a shaking server before spending the rest of the day at work.
Now, as the sun hung low on the horizon, he couldn’t help but question himself. Perhaps his straightforward strategy to fix the situation was the problem. If he was more creative and free-spirited, like her, he might choose to leave the chair and umbrella submerged in the lake as an offshore oddity in case anyone snorkeled.
He snorted. The murky freshwater lake wasn’t conducive to exploration. Which was probably for the best. A sunken obstacle could be a danger. He did his best to keep his guests safe and happy. Once one lawsuit was served, others would follow. No matter how baseless, he’d have to fight every claim. He’d lose a fortune in legal fees.
His business was set for its most profitable year yet. But there was never a moment in the hospitality industry that wasn’t rife with worry. To properly staff and run the resort, he had a lot of overhead costs. In addition, maintaining an old building wasn’t inexpensive or easy.
If he wanted an easy buck, he was in the wrong profession. While he was aware of his miserly persona to the community, he didn’t focus on the bottom line for his profit margin and hadn’t taken a bonus in years. He remained because of his passion for continuing the Inn’s legacy.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Enter,” he called and scanned his planner for his next meeting.
“Oh, good! You’re here,” Ashley said, slightly breathless.
From the climb or enthusiasm at seeing him or both? He met her bright-eyed gaze and smiled despite himself.
She stepped over the covered tray outside the door and breezed into the room.
He frowned. The cleaning staff never left room service trays in the corridor. He’d call downstairs and ask why no one had cleared the trays in the hallway. He was looking for trouble. In it strolled.
“Sorry, is this a bad time?” She stopped, frozen in place in front of his desk.
“Just a long day.” He scrubbed his face, wiping away his scowl and waving to his chair. He’d give the staff a break. They weren’t the source of his frustration. Ashley claimed the role. “Please, sit down. What did you want to discuss?”
She pulled out a chair, scraping the floor.
He ground his molars together. He would not wince. He was interested in what had her so happy after her disastrous start to the day.
“I was fully undercover at the boardwalk. I stopped in and chatted with just about everyone,” she said.
“Good. Learn anything useful?”
“Did you know the sounds are amplified on the water? It’s clearer to hear someone across the lake rather than someone whispering next to you?”
He widened his gaze. He hated to think what he might have said that was overheard. He mostly kept his thoughts to himself. She’d been his confidant. Once she was gone, he adapted to holding in every thought.
“And you were right…”
He straightened. He liked hearing that.
“They hate you. They really, really hate you.”
He hunched in his chair. So much for feeding his ego. “I guess you went to see Zach Jenkins?”
“He was my first stop. Is he their leader?”
“In a way, I suppose.”
“I would have defended you, you know. I think there must be some middle ground between you and the shopkeepers. But I didn’t really think it would help our case if I did. I’m supposed to be coming back to lay claim.”
“What would you have said?” he asked, suddenly realizing how important her answer was. He felt just as fragile and unsure as he’d been as a kid when he learned he’d have to pay his own way. She might always have it easy. And he never wanted to make life hard for her. But he hated retreating into that scared little kid, the one that motivated his every choice for stability and security.
“I would have said you probably were too enthusiastic about the idea, but it had some merit.” She smiled. “You want the best for everyone.”
Her sad, shy expression tugged at his heart. It hinted at shared memories and that he wouldn’t need to explain his reasons.
“But I didn’t need to. Zach conceded as much.”
“How’d you manage that?”
She chuckled. “You know people just sort of pour their hearts out to me. I listened, and he spoke freely.”
She did have that gift. Her warmth invited an immediate sense of trust. Had she ever met a stranger? While he wouldn’t trust her not to burn down the property, he put his faith in her ability to charm people. She was far better in that regard than he was. Too bad he’d never learned or gleaned her skills.
“What’s next? Wait for the ghost?” she asked.
“Did you ask Zach and the others about it?”
She nodded. “I did, and no one believes in it. Except for the Prims, although I didn’t have a chance to ask them specifically.”
He rolled his eyes.
“What? You have issues with them, too?”
“Not quite.” He loosened his tie. “I don’t understand how such a gullible family has kept their business going for so long.”
“Did you analyze their business plans?”
His ears burned. His throat squeezed shut. He’d done that for the advantage of the business owners. He wouldn’t take money from someone failing. Especially if they couldn’t see they were in trouble. He’d helped the arcade owners get out while they could and salvage a nice retirement down south. But everyone latched on to the angle he ran them out. It didn’t do him any favors to defend himself. “I don’t have any involvement with the Prims business or vice versa. It’s been a mutually beneficial relationship.”
“Except for the dinner cruises?” She arched a brow, curling her lips too.
“I’m glad you’re amused.”
“Maybe I think brand ambassador is a better use of my talents. I could be the liaison between the Inn and the local businesses.”
A compromise? He drew back his chin. “Have you given up on your plans to take over the Inn?”
She threw back her head and laughed. “Try again. I meant instead of working on your checklist in the interim. Before I rightfully inherit my legal property.”
He wouldn’t give her an easy out for learning every role. She’d need a better working knowledge of the day-to-day to oversee the Inn. “We’re not having that discussion. As far as the Prims are concerned, I have no reason to change. And I won’t put you up to interviewing them. It’ll be a lost cause. Carl’s mean and Steve’s naive. You wouldn’t get answers. Although I would love to know why they keep delaying the start of the boating season.”
“You’re in charge. You tell me what to do. I’ll go ask them why they’re disappointing our guests.”
She would. He admired that bit of backbone. But he wouldn’t force her to interact with the pair. “Let’s settle our business first.” Did he imagine her sharp intake of breath? Or the fluttering at the base of her neck? He didn’t want to proceed with a divorce. But dragging the situation out wasn’t in anyone’s best interests. And he had to protect his future. He’d already lost control of his heart. “About finding your arsonist.”
“I didn’t make headway with any living persons.”
Not the ghost again.
“But I do have a few questions, I’m hoping you can answer. I wasn’t sure how to ask without alienating myself. I’m curious,” she said, her tone low. “About Soupy?”
“The lake monster? Did you see the merch? It’s not half bad. Society of Soupy: the truth always surfaces.”
“SOS? As in a cry for help?” She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t realize what a community project the beast is.” Her voice was tense. “Seth brought in a couple of his motivational stickers for Zach to sell. He’s busy.”
Christopher wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction. The community’s shift towards embracing conspiracies and the extraordinary must be sudden and shocking. He’d had plenty of time to witness the transition from the staid to the unexplained. But he downplayed her insistence on a ghost encounter.
“You’re having problems with the menus?” she asked. “Maybe he should focus. He’s dividing his attention. Only one is his actual, profitable business, and he’s giving that the least of his time.”
Christopher waved a hand. Once Seth figured out what he was doing, he’d be great at the print shop. He needed time. Christopher was happy to give him that. He was curious about her response. Before her return, the version of her he’d created in his mind would have jumped in and helped. He’d offered his support because he figured she’d want him to be encouraging. “You don’t support Soupy?”
“I’ve never heard of a lake monster. I grew up on these shores. Why is the legend taking off now?”
Her question held shades of regret. Did she not believe? Or did she feel left out? He didn’t have a fear of missing out. If he didn’t do something, he didn’t waste a thought considering what if?
She suffered from major FOMO. Did Soupy symbolize the length of her self-imposed exile and the distance between herself and the community? The town wasn’t quite the same as she left it. Loon Lake had room for two dreamers. “Your concerns are about his workload? Or are you against his mythologizing? Because I don’t quite follow your argument.”
“Don’t turn this around with logic.”
He almost smiled. “Give Seth your encouragement. That’s all he needs.”
“You know I support others. I gave him a few ideas, but I’m sure Zach realizes I’m not a believer.”
“You’re creative. Help Seth. Soupy is a way to ingratiate yourself with him and everyone else. Dealing with loss isn’t easy. I think we are all offering support by embracing Soupy.”
“I don’t need a way to make friends, thank you.”
“I know you don’t. But Soupy isn’t a business. Seth is quite sincere about Soupy.” Christopher leaned forward, interlacing his hands. “While he has only come forward recently, he didn’t launch the creature out of nowhere. Talk to him. Learn more. You’ll change your tune.”
“I can’t imagine I’m the only person in town that doesn’t believe in Soupy.” She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Elise isn’t a believer. I’m sure.”
Christopher bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to burst his wife’s bubble. Nor did he want to get into a discussion about Elise.
Ashley widened her eyes. “She is? The one time I actually hoped I could count on her. Ugh.” She groaned. “Why must I always adapt?”
Christopher would have snorted if he hadn’t spotted genuine frustration in the set of her tight mouth. She had spent her childhood in a kingdom of which she was the ruler. Coming back might be an adjustment, but she had never experienced the typical growing pains of becoming part of a community. She’d been adored.
“How does Soupy stack against your ghost?” He leaned his chin in a palm.
Her cheeks reddened. “Initially, the ghost was fake. But I’m telling you, the lighthouse is really haunted. It’s always been a creepy spot.”
He laughed. He wasn’t sure he’d ever disagreed about something more. But he’d give her a win. This time, it didn’t take away anything from him. If only they weren’t trapped in a zero-sum game playing each other, they’d actually have fun.