that obnoxious bird never shut up?
“You know I’m crazy about your mother, don’t you?” Elden never made a secret of that and had always treated her like a queen. Pampered her. In fact, Denny’s father blamed his ex’s former boyfriend for making her dissatisfied with Hunter Ridge, motherhood and, in particular, her first husband. “I know you care for her, too, Den. So what do you say the two of us get this inn fixed up the way she’d like it? You know how she dotes on that old gal who befriended her in that backwoods hamlet.”
Denny stepped out of the gazebo, determined to keep his temper in check. “So you want her to spend a mint on a six-guest-room inn located in the middle of nowhere and hand it over to an old woman who is in questionable health but who also has no training and limited experience in the hospitality field? Pardon me for pointing this out, Elden, but that’s not the type of investment you’ve trained me to make.”
“Maybe not, but if you can see to your mother’s business and lie low in Arizona while Victor gets acclimated to his new role...” That’s what this is about? Making life comfy for Vic? “If you can make those things happen, Den, I can make it worth your while.”
Denny had heard his stepbrother was struggling—a leader without followers, because most supported Denny stepping into that VP slot. “I’m being banished? Is that what you’re telling me?”
His stepfather chuckled. “Not banished. Giving your brother a chance to find his footing without people looking to you for the answers.”
“Is that what he’s telling you? That I’m trying to undermine him?”
“Apparently you have a loyal following, and that’s caused unrest.”
“I’m not driving that. It’s business as usual, as far as I’m concerned. I’m not stirring up animosity toward Vic.”
“That’s good to know. But I realize that as long as you’re highly visible and available, there are those who may continue turning to you instead of Victor. There seems to be an undercurrent of, shall we say, resentment on the part of some that he was promoted over you.”
No foolin’. “Is that surprising? Vic walked out on you and the family business almost a decade ago. Then he waltzes back in—and out of the blue steps into a top spot.”
“Although it may seem like it on the surface, it wasn’t out of the blue. I told him at the time we had our falling-out that there would always be a place for him in the business.”
A place he hadn’t earned? A birthright he’d snubbed?
Denny remembered well that blowup between his stepbrother and Elden. It hadn’t been pretty, and clearly Elden had been deeply wounded at a betrayal by the offspring he’d poured so much of himself into. That was when Denny set his heart on filling Vic’s shoes better than Vic could ever fill them. To earn his stepfather’s respect and a leadership role in the family business. He was well on the road to achieving that, until Vic showed up last winter, seemingly humble and contrite...and the tide began to turn.
“From the reaction of others,” Denny said carefully as he watched Lillian step out the back door and into the garden, “I think you’d have to agree that expectation wasn’t well communicated.”
“Come on. He’s my son, Den.” And I’m not. “He’s settling down now and is ready to put his nose to the grindstone. Don’t take it personally. You and everyone else knew from the beginning that he is destined for the top spot when I step down. That’s still a considerable ways off, but if everyone pulls together, helps him get through this time of transition, it will work out in the long run. For everyone. I’m counting on you to make that happen.”
Meaning keep out of the way?
“I have responsibilities, projects that I’m in the middle of, people who are depending on me.”
Seeking relief from the pressure building inside, his gaze tracked Lillian as she gracefully moved to sit on a shaded stone bench. She was a striking-looking young woman with a country-fresh vivacity that had been absent in the sophisticated, born-to-high-society Corrine. The local librarian seemed considerably less capricious than his former fiancée, too. You wouldn’t catch a well-grounded Lillian Keene heading for the hills on her wedding day, leaving some poor sucker in the dust.
But as appealing as that small-town allure might be on the surface, it wasn’t a girl-next-door type that would help him get ahead at GylesStyle Inns. With the departure of Corrine, he was back to square one. Nevertheless, it was a shame that the pretty Lillian planned to follow in her great-aunt’s footsteps and sequester herself in Nowheresville.
“By all means, stay on top of the projects out in the field,” Elden responded, drawing Denny’s attention again. “But in dealing with others at the home base? Steer them back to Victor and let them learn to depend on him. If you’re working on getting this inn fixed up for your mother, that’s a good enough reason for stepping back. No one will question it. You won’t have to offer explanations.”
Was his stepfather truly that naive? Oblivious to the effort Denny had taken to build a network of strong relationships based on mutual respect as he climbed the corporate ladder? Elden thought his arrogant, self-indulgent son could step in and pick up the reins if Denny laid them down?
Across the garden, Lillian looked up and caught him watching her—those beautiful hazel eyes, even at a distance, almost took his breath away. Nevertheless, he managed to refocus on the conversation at hand.
“And when I’ve done my time here?” He couldn’t help throwing in the prison analogy.
“Then we’ll talk. Victor filling that VP opening doesn’t mean there isn’t still a prime spot for you at GylesStyle—especially if you can keep him and your mother happy.”
“And if I can’t?”
Silence hung heavy. Except for that irritating bird.
“Well, Den,” Elden finally drawled, “see that you do.”
* * *
From the far side of the garden, with the sound of a merrily trilling robin singing its heart out, Lillian couldn’t hear what Denny was saying on the phone. Assuming it was the same call he’d taken before she’d gone inside, it was quite lengthy. His voice remained low and indistinguishable, but from his expression, he didn’t like the way things were going.
How often she’d seen that same look of concentration on Cameron Gray’s face when he’d returned home to Hunter Ridge in February. Having been let go from a managerial position in Boston, he nevertheless lived on his phone, constantly schmoozing with contacts despite insisting that anyone who remained tied to corporate America was nothing but a fool.
He was at home in Hunter Ridge to stay, he’d declared. Working with his dad at the hardware store, he assured everyone around him that relationships were what mattered. Family. Church. Old friends. This was where he wanted to settle down and raise a family. With her. Or so he claimed until the day before their wedding, when he got a call from his former employer—and without consulting her leaped at a job offer, generously volunteering to hire a caregiver for her aunt and to place Taylor at an upscale private school.
Was it any wonder she’d cried and prayed most of the night? The next day, as everyone was gathering for the ceremony, she called the officiating
