beginning and talk really slow.”
She sighed. “I had an opportunity to win a casino in a poker game. Lydia Montgomery and Reed Watson staked me and I won that baby on an inside straight that no one saw coming because I’m an old lady.” She giggled.
When he’d been a child, she tried to keep what she did on the down low. Hunter and his siblings all knew she’d send them off to school in the morning and be home again when they returned. In between she played poker—cutthroat poker. They all knew she supported them by playing cards at various casinos in Las Vegas, but no one really talked about it. After all, she’d inherited four boisterous children when their parents had died in an automobile accident and she had to be respectable.
“I’ll be there in four or maybe five hours,” he said, unable to stop himself from talking. He just had to know how she had the nerve to bet her life savings for a shot at winning a casino.
“See you soon. I’ll be at the Casa de Mariposa. It’s easy to find.” She disconnected.
Hunter set his phone down on the nightstand, his head spinning. What had his grandmother gotten into now? The first thing he did was call the airport, but since he couldn’t get a flight until morning, he might as well drive. The arrival time would be the same. Next, he called his two brothers and sister to put them on standby. After a quick shower, he packed for a week and walked out the door of his South Beach apartment while sending text messages to his personal assistant to reschedule his appointments. Later he would let her know how far ahead she needed to reschedule.
He opened the door to the underground garage and walked to his Mercedes. A few moments later he pulled out into the thick, foggy morning air of San Francisco and headed toward the freeway.
* * *
Hunter couldn’t believe his eyes. He stood in the parking lot, staring up at the elegant stately hotel that rose twelve stories up. Morning sun had already chased the desert night chill away, replacing it with rising heat. A temperature gauge on a bank across the street flashed an eighty-eight in between showing the time.
“What do you think?” Miss E. stood next to him on the sidewalk as he studied the rows of balconies that studded the side of the hotel with his inner architect eye.
The Spanish architecture was beautifully done. Painted in a glowing golden pink, the stucco façade was fancifully decorated with brightly colored mosaic trim around the doors and window, with elaborate gothic arches over the entrance to the hotel. The architectural style was a bit of a mishmash of Spanish Colonial, Moorish influence and a touch of Gothic, yet it was still pleasantly attractive and easy on the eyes.
Though he was in awe, he couldn’t stop himself from scolding his grandmother. Actually, he wanted to shake her, but he was afraid she’d hurt him, so he let that notion go. “What were you thinking? Gambling your entire life savings away on a chance, a small, miniscule chance of winning a casino?” Hunter asked.
Her lips turned down in that disapproving smile that had haunted his childhood, but amusement lurked in her eyes. “I told you retirement just isn’t for me. I’ve never been so bored in my whole life.”
He leaned back on his heels, studying the façade. The hotel was on his left and the casino, contained in a three-story building, was to his right. The parking lot flanked the structure and wound around the sides. “What do you want me to do with it?” Other than some cosmetic needs, the structure looked good, though he would know better after a look at the blueprints and a more careful, detailed inspection.
Miss E. grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her eye level. “You don’t need to do anything with this part. What I want you to do is design and oversee the building of a spa. Hot springs on the rear of the property are just going to waste. Jasper Biggins, he’s the original owner, planned to build a spa, but never quite got around to it. I need you to do it.”
The front doors opened at their approach and a blast of cold air flooded over them. Hunter glanced around the reception area with a knowledgeable eye.
“You need some work done in here, too.” Though he had to admit the hotel was in pretty good shape. He guessed it had been built in the mid-seventies. “Just a little touch-up, a good cleaning and some professional restoration work. That’s just my first impression. I have to see blueprints, do a thorough inspection, but I can find you someone good who can do that.”
“I don’t want someone good.” Miss E. shook her head. “I want you.”
They walked through the reception area after a quick glance at the casino and out the back to the pool sparkling in the morning sun. The pool was roughly L-shaped. Lounge chairs bordered the edges. A small cabana showed stacks of white towels. Already half the chairs were filled with lounging customers smearing tanning lotion on their skin. Children played in the shallow end.
The hotel curved to his right around the pool and the casino curved to the left. Beyond that, he saw nothing but desert rising into hills.
His gaze traveled up over the balconies jutting out over the pool. A couple kids stood on one, looking down. If his brother Donovan had been there, he would have already calculated the distance from the balcony to the pool and considered trying a swan dive. Donovan had always been the daredevil. Hard to believe he was now a chef in Paris. His brother Scott had always been Donovan’s co-conspirator, leaving Hunter to partner with their only sister, Kenzie. If only Kenzie were here. She’d always been able to handle Miss E., unlike Hunter and his brothers, who always seemed to be in conflict with her.
“I have a business in San Francisco.” The hotel/casino was a grand old dame, just like his grandmother.
“And you have a partner who can take up the slack. I want you,” Miss E. repeated more forcefully.
Hunter gulped. “Yes, ma’am.” No one argued with Miss E. He’d always been a tall man. Even at ten, when he first came to live with his grandmother, he’d been taller than her. He’d used his size to intimidate his two brothers and sister. The one time he’d tried to intimidate his grandmother, he’d learned the hard way that no one crossed her and lived to tell about it. He was thirty-two years old and his grandmother could still make him feel as if he was ten. Miss E. played poker with a lot of unsavory people and didn’t intimidate easily.
“Who’s financing this?” Hunter wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead. “You don’t have that kind of money.” But then again she could, and no one would ever know about it unless she wanted them to.
His grandmother waved at the top floor of the hotel. “You’ll meet Miss Montgomery later. She’s getting settled in one of the penthouse suites. And Reed will be along when his family emergency is taken care of.”
Another thought occurred to him. Private poker games like the one his grandmother participated had a high buy-in. “How did you manage the entry fee for the game?”
“Reed and Lydia put up the buy-in money and I brought the expertise. We each own a third.”
Hunter stepped back and looked up. From what he could see the structure, the bones seemed solid, though he’d know more when he started crawling around inside. They walked back into the reception area.
“This place looks frozen in time.” Hunter watched a middle-aged couple step through the front doors and out into the dry July heat.
The interior was dark, heavy with wood furniture despite the most beautiful mosaic floor he’d ever seen. The long
