Callie Endicott - That Summer at the Shore

That was six years ago, when the land had cost less and he’d bought it on speculation. Had success with his first batch of acquisitions led him to a hasty decision with the second?

“What are my options?” Zack asked.

“You might have a chance in court if you think the seller was deliberately misleading.”

“I don’t know if Jenkins did anything wrong, and I doubt we could prove dishonest intent if he did. It would be a nasty fight. People liked the old guy, odd as he was.”

Kim nodded. “And they’ll be protective of his granddaughter. You’re a smart businessman, Zack. Negative relations with the local community is extremely costly in the long run. My suggestion is to work it out with Ms. Conroe. She isn’t a bad sort.”

Zack pictured Jamie’s stubborn face. “She doesn’t like me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Don’t rub it in. I’ll have the real-estate agent contact her with an offer.”

Kim tapped her pencil on the desk thoughtfully, and a corner of his mind appreciated the technology for doing video teleconferences. It wasn’t face-to-face communication, but closer to it than the phone. This way he could read her body language and get a feel for what she was thinking.

“I have a suspicion Ms. Conroe won’t sell,” Kim said. “There’s a sentimental attachment. Other solutions are possible, though. For example, she makes jewelry. How about featuring her pieces in the gift shop? In return, she may relocate the stand.”

He stared at the computer monitor, appalled. “For Pete’s sake, I can’t put cheap bits of beadwork on sale here. We carry top-end items like art glass and original sculptures.”

“Look for an accommodation.” Kim sounded exasperated. “Talk to her. She might compromise if she realizes the potential impact on your operations.”

Zack glanced at the map on which the property lines had been clearly drawn. “You’ve got higher hopes for her goodwill than I do.”

“If nothing else, you have your contingency plan to build around her and border it with a tall hedge or stone wall. Your guests would still have a private beach since you aren’t required to provide access between her two sections. She has to use the public road the same as everyone.”

Zack groaned. He’d gotten used to the idea of having all that lovely, undeveloped land to himself. It was so much less complicated.

“Make nice,” Kim ordered. “You do it with difficult patrons. Swallow your pride and pretend she’s a VIP client staying in your King Louis suite.”

“I don’t have a King Louis suite. What’s your schedule over the next couple days? Unless you ticked her off, I’m sure she’ll listen to you more than me.”

“We got along fine.” Kim scanned her iPhone, and then shook her head. “I can’t get away for a while. Anyhow, you should be the one to take care of this. Like it or not, she’s your neighbor and you’ve got to mend fences. Begin with an apology for trying to get her arrested. It wasn’t your finest moment.”

He groaned again.

“I have to go, Zack. I’ve got a meeting with the mayor in twenty minutes.”

“The mayor? Show-off.”

She laughed as he disconnected.

Zack was convinced Kim was getting malicious amusement from the situation. He grasped his coffee and sucked down half the cup, wishing it had a dash of whiskey. Aside from his emergency fund, he’d sunk every penny into Mar Vista, along with the assets his parents had insisted on investing. If the resort didn’t turn a profit and his loan defaulted, could he at least salvage their money?

Hell. There was no reason to assume the worst; he’d deal with it. And in the meantime, he would ensure everything continued to run properly.

He hit the intercom button on his desk. “Trudy?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Do you have those purchase orders and invoices ready for me to review?”

“I forwarded them to your computer.”

“Thanks.”

He clicked on the files, making notes and adding his approval as needed. Trudy had rejected a requisition for room deodorizers and sent a memo to housekeeping that guest rooms were to be so clean that fragrance wasn’t necessary. Excellent. Trudy knew his position on the issue. Apparently, the housekeeping supervisor was pleased with the replacement linens. The prior lot must have been defective, though they’d come from a leading company for luxury hotel linens.

Zack started on the invoices, only to grit his teeth when he saw the third one. Of course. Jamie Conroe must have chortled when she topped her paperwork with Little Blue Fruit Stand Enterprises.

Resigned, Zack added his authorization for payment. Maybe the Mar Vista restaurants would furnish enough income that she’d abandon her trailer. It had to be easier to manage supplies for one customer than to spend a full day vending vegetables to dozens of different people.

The lunch hour passed before he was finished. He got out his keys and squared his shoulders. No more procrastinating; he had to tackle his chief headache.

On the way, he drank the cup of stale coffee sitting in the SUV. Caffeine might help him cope with the woman.

The blue trailer wasn’t quite as vivid as his memory had made it, or else the shock value had diminished.

Jamie was half reclining in a green chair, legs extended in long, languid lines. She seemed to be asleep. Her dark hair fluttered in the breeze and her creamy complexion was highlighted by the eyelashes resting on her cheeks. Today she wore jeans and a T-shirt that revealed the curves he’d glimpsed at her house.

No cosmetics.

No jewelry or accessories.

No special attempt to look attractive or appealing.

Yet something in the scene tugged at Zack’s gut. It didn’t make sense. Jamie was the opposite of the women who inhabited his world. True, he’d been living like a monk, too buried in work for socializing, but still....

“Are you going to buy strawberries, or keep examining me for weak points?” she said suddenly, startling him.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“The sound of tires on gravel is a decent alarm system.” Jamie raised her eyebrows. “If you’re here to complain some more, go ahead and give it your best shot.”

“I...I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have called the sheriff. And you were correct—this is your land. The surveyors’ report came this morning.”

“Wow. That must have hurt.” She rose from the low-slung chair in a graceful twist.

Zack grimaced. She couldn’t know how much it hurt, or how hard it was to follow Kim’s advice to be nice. “As I said, I’m very sorry. I was under the impression your grandfather sold me everything, including this beachfront acre.”

Her blue eyes grew stormy. “Are you saying he cheated you?”

“I’m only...” Zack stopped. It was galling; even if George Jenkins had cheated, it meant he was the chump. Zack couldn’t afford that kind of reputation in corporate circles. “No, not at all, but I would like to acquire this section. Name a price.”

“It isn’t for sale.”

“Are you planning to build?” he asked.

“Heavens, no. Granddad would haunt me.”

That was reassuring. All he had to worry about was a summer fruit stand—except summer was his busiest season. In the next few months the resort was solidly booked with reservations from high-profile guests, as well as old friends and clientele who knew him as a manager in other locations. Most were coming because of their acquaintance with him, and they’d keep coming if Mar Vista met or exceeded their expectations. And while it was possible that Jamie’s hideous trailer wouldn’t sabotage the resort, it wouldn’t be good for it, either.

“I’ll pay you a fair amount,” he said. “Extremely fair.”