The Wager. Metsy Hingle

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The Wager - Metsy  Hingle


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slightly, she stared at his face out of eyes that seemed to measure him. “Tell me, Joshua. Have you inherited Simon’s spirit of adventure as well? Or do you shy away from taking risks?”

      Josh smiled at the challenge in her voice and considered some of the more outlandish deals he’d pulled off over the years for Logan Hotels. “Oh, I’ve been known to take a risk or two,” he said evenly. “Of course, the prize would have to be worth the risk.”

      “I assume you’d consider the Princess a suitable prize?” she asked smoothly.

      Yes! Josh wanted to shout the word aloud, to pump his fist in the air. He did neither. And though it took every ounce of control he possessed, he managed not to give any hint of the excitement humming in his blood. This was it. The moment he had looked forward to for more than half of his thirty-three years—making good on his promise to his grandfather to reclaim the Princess Hotel.

      As though it were only yesterday instead of almost twenty years ago, he remembered standing inside the lobby of the Princess with his grandfather….

      “If only you could have known how it felt to own her, Josh, my lad. To see this vision in your head take shape, to watch mortar and glass and brick come together, to see the dream you’ve carried inside you come to life and create this thing of beauty. Ah, and she was a beauty, my Princess—even before I lost her to Livvy and she fancied her up with those antiques and expensive whatnots. All a body had to do was walk through her doors, stand on these polished marble floors in the lobby to know it, too. One look up at those crystal chandeliers gleaming like giant diamonds or a whiff of those pretty flowers stuffed in the giant urns, and a person felt like he was royalty. That’s why I named her the Princess.”

      “Let’s buy her back,” Josh urged.

      “Oh, I’d like to, lad. Believe me, I’d like to. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember. But I’m afraid Livvy won’t sell her. I’ve asked more than once, but she loves the Princess as much as I do. No, I’m afraid the Princess is lost to us.”

      “But it should be yours. You built her,” Josh argued.

      “Aye, I did, lad. But I lost her fair and square. She belongs to Livvy now—not to us Logans.”

      “I’ll get the Princess back for you, Granddad. I swear I will. Someday she’ll belong to the Logans again. I promise.”

      And that day had finally arrived. The rumors had been circulating for months in the business community that the old luxury hotel was taking financial hits in the fiercely competitive New Orleans market. The fact that Olivia was slowing down and had refused to turn over the reins to anyone had made selling the property the logical thing to do, Josh reasoned. Olivia Jardine was a shrewd businesswoman—shrewd enough to know that the only person likely to pay her top dollar for the aging hotel was the family of the man who’d lost it to her in that crazy bet fifty-six years ago.

      “Am I to assume from your silence that you consider the Princess worthy of a few risks?”

      “Given my most recent offer to buy the place, I think you already know the answer to that. I take it you’ve had a chance to review the offer?”

      “I glanced at it,” she said, her tone noncommital, her expression inscrutable. She maneuvered her wheelchair over to the antique table and pointed to the chair opposite hers. “Do sit down, Joshua. I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”

      Josh did as she instructed and took the seat across from her. “It’s a good offer.”

      “It’s a fair offer,” she corrected him. “Tell me, Joshua. Just how badly do you want the Princess?”

      “Bad enough to pay you more than it’s worth, but not enough to kill you for it.”

      Her mouth twitched, and for a moment Josh thought she might actually smile. She didn’t. Instead she said, “I appreciate your honesty. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you.”

      “Thank you,” Josh said, eager to end this cat-and-mouse game that Olivia was playing with him.

      “So I’ll be equally honest with you. I have no intention of selling the Princess.”

      Her words hit him like a sucker punch, and he had to bite back the oath on the tip of his tongue. Reminding himself of his first rule in negotiating with an opponent—to never reveal what he was feeling—Josh managed to keep his expression neutral while frustration churned inside him like acid. It was a skill that he’d honed in his eight years as head of acquisitions for Logan Hotels and one that had paid off handsomely for him and his family. He’d dealt with tougher negotiators than Olivia Jardine and for hotels of far greater value. Yet when it came to the Princess, the very first hotel built by Simon Logan, it was difficult not to let his emotions come into play. The Princess had always been more than brick and mortar and stone to him, Josh admitted. He’d fallen in love with the place as a boy while listening to his grandfather’s stories. To see the Logan Hotels banner flying over the Princess again had been his dream for as long as he could remember. And, once again, that dream remained just out of reach.

      “You have a good poker face. I’ll give you that.”

      “Are we playing poker, Duchess?”

      “In a manner of speaking.” She paused. “But before we go over the rules of this particular game, I could use a brandy. Why don’t you pour us each a glass?”

      Josh did as she asked, filling the heavy crystal glasses with the expensive vintage while he reined in his emotions. After he handed Olivia her glass, she took a sip, then leaned back in her chair.

      The urge to toss back the brandy was so strong, Josh deliberately drank slowly, savoring the bite of the liquor and wanting to wash away the taste of disappointment in his mouth. When he reclaimed his seat, his emotions were in check once more. Deciding there was no point in pushing Olivia, he remained silent and waited for her to continue the game.

      “I’m sure by now you’ve heard the rumors that the Princess is losing money.”

      He had. Despite the size of the city, New Orleans remained very much a small town in many respects. There was little that went on in the business or personal lives of its more prominent citizens that stayed a secret for long. And the Jardines had always been news makers. “I’ve heard the Princess has been feeling the pinch from the competition.”

      Olivia snorted. “You and I both know that the Princess has been feeling more than a pinch. I’ve lost a small fortune keeping the doors open this past year alone. And I’m sure you also know that my family and financial advisers believe I should sell it.”

      “Maybe they’re right, Duchess. I’ve offered you a good price. Why don’t we save ourselves some time and dispense with the game-playing. Just tell me straight-out what price tag you’ve set on her.”

      All humor faded in an instant. “There isn’t a price tag,” she told him. “The Princess is not for sale. At least not at this time.”

      “But—”

      “Hear me out,” she said, lifting her hand.

      Josh nodded, settled back in his seat.

      “When your grandfather built the Princess it was with the intention that she become the grand lady of New Orleans. After Simon…lost her to me in that foolish bet, I made sure that she lived up to his dream. I turned her into the finest hotel in this city,” she told him, an intense light in her eyes. “I want to see the Princess returned to her throne, Joshua. Once I see that happen, I’ll turn over the reins.”

      Josh couldn’t help it. Hope stirred in his blood again. “If it’s help you need, I can recommend a good management company, put together a team for you and help you turn the place around before you sell it to me.”

      Olivia shook her head. “I don’t want some stranger running the Princess. From the day your grandfather signed her over to me, she’s been run by a Jardine.”

      Josh


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