“I’m sure, really, it was just a thing for a second. I’m fine. But I was in the kitchen and—”
I filled him in on what I’d witnessed and he shook his head in annoyance. “If Savannah can’t get Miss Stiles back, Finn’s taking over until she finds someone else whether he wants to or not. But really? Culinary Institute of America and Cordon Bleu? That’s impressive. I knew he left home after high school, but I didn’t know he was a trained chef. And he wants to open a restaurant? Interesting.”
“I know. Now I really want him to cook for us. I want to know if he’s any good after all that bragging. And speaking of cooking, do you want to raid the kitchen? I didn’t eat much lunch and you skipped it altogether. Then I was thinking maybe some hot cocoa and a fire in our bedroom. So we could watch the snow and, um, other stuff.”
“Hmm, some of that sounds good.” Griffen scooped me up in his arms, sweat and all. I didn’t mind. In Griffen’s arms was one of my favorite places to be.
He strode from the room, explaining, “I’m taking you upstairs, and you can help me wash off all this sweat. And then I’m going to make you come at least twice, maybe three times, and then I’m going to feed you a brownie, in bed, while we watch the snow. How does that sound?”
“That sounds just about perfect.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Griffen
I leaned over the laptop, scrolling through the contract we were reviewing. “Tricky bastards. They keep trying to slip something in.” A click and I deleted the extra lines before moving on. “I’ll be glad when we’re done with these clowns. By the time this contract expires we need to have an alternate supplier in place.”
“Got it,” Hope said, adding it to the list in her ever-present notebook.
A quick double rap sounded on the door and both of our heads popped up. Royal stuck his head inside the office. I thought he’d headed out to the Inn after breakfast. Maybe he’d come back.
“Come in,” I said, closing the laptop. “I’m ready to take a break from this anyway.”
A little hesitant, Royal crossed the room and took one of the big leather chairs in front of the desk. He sat, propping an ankle on his knee before he leaned forward.
“I know you haven’t had a lot of time to get up to speed with the business, and it’s even harder with Ford… gone.”
“We’re getting there. I’d be lost without Hope.”
Royal gave Hope a surprisingly affectionate smile. “I can see that,” he said. “It was a surprise, you two getting married, but it’s good to see you both happy.”
I leaned back in my chair, taking Hope’s hand with a smile that probably showed more than I meant it to. I didn’t care. Hope smiled back before dropping her eyes, still too shy for public displays of affection.
“Is that what brought you in today?” I asked. “Here to wish us happy?”
“Not exactly. I had some thoughts about the Inn that I wanted to run by you. I’ll be honest and tell you that I ran most of this by Dad and Ford. Ford was in favor of it. Dad was not.”
“If you’re trying to get me on your side, that’s a good start,” I said.
“That’s what I was hoping,” Royal said with a hint of his charming grin. “The first thing is the guest cottages. We have more land along the river and the cottages have been selling out on a regular basis, year-round. I put together some numbers—”
Royal handed me a manila folder. A quick look showed spreadsheets and graphs. “Tenn and I believe the investment would pay off within a few years, if not sooner. On top of that, we’d like to do more coordination with the rest of the family businesses. Dad was determined to keep us all separate. Islands unto ourselves and all that. We have a great restaurant at the Inn, but we should coordinate more with Avery’s brewery, and I know she’d like to add a restaurant at some point, which would be great as an alternate place to send a guest for a meal and still keep them in the family. Ditto for offering activity packages through Quinn’s guide business.”
“Hope and I haven’t reviewed the family concerns since I knew the rest of you had them under control, but I assumed all of this was already going on. I didn’t know about Avery wanting a restaurant, but the rest of it. Why would Dad hamstring you like this?”
“Paranoid, I think, that we were plotting against him. Or he was just being an asshole. With Dad, it’s hard to tell.”
“True enough. I can’t see any reason we shouldn’t do everything you suggested. Hope and I will take a look at these numbers you put together, but if they look as good as you think they do, we can start talking construction plans.”