The Inn at Eagle Point. Sherryl Woods

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The Inn at Eagle Point - Sherryl  Woods


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goad her into backing down.

      “Don’t make this about us, Trace,” she said quietly. “It doesn’t reflect well on you or the bank.”

      Trace scowled at her. “Well, aren’t you full of yourself? Trust me, you had nothing to do with my decision. It’s all right here in black and white. People might lie, but numbers don’t.”

      Abby knew he was right about that, but she wasn’t giving up without a fight. She’d seen the flicker of guilt in his eyes when she’d accused him of letting his feelings for her get into the equation. She intended to use that to force his hand and make him reconsider.

      She tempered her tone. “Will you at least hear me out? You owe us that much.”

      “Really?” he said quizzically. “How do you figure that?”

      “You want to prove that you’re making a totally unbiased decision, don’t you? Then you have to consider all the facts. Otherwise I’ll have to insist on meeting the board myself, and you’ll wind up with egg on your face after barely a week on the job.”

      Again, he gestured toward the file. “The facts are in here.”

      “Not all of them,” she insisted. She handed him a set of the papers she’d spent all Sunday afternoon preparing, partly because she’d wanted them to be strong enough to make her case and partly as a way to steer clear of Mick. “Take a look. As you’ll see, there’s a new investment partner. Jess has more than enough cash now to make good on the loan payments and to capitalize the running of the inn for the first six months, longer if she’s careful. There’s a solid business plan on pages two and three. And on page four there’s a plan for refinancing that egregious interest-only mortgage that should never have been offered in the first place. I think we could make a case that the bank was hoping she’d get herself into financial trouble just so they could foreclose and lay claim to the inn once she’d poured a lot of money into renovations.”

      Trace stared at her incredulously. “You can’t be serious. You think this was the bank’s fault?”

      She smiled. “I do.”

      “You’re crazy!”

      “Want to test my theory in court? I think people are furious over the kind of lending practices that turned the whole industry upside down. I think we could make Jess into a very sympathetic victim.”

      Trace regarded her with a glimmer of new respect. “Not bad. You almost had me going there for a minute.”

      “I wasn’t joking,” Abby assured him. “My next stop will be a lawyer’s office unless I can make you see reason.”

      He looked taken aback. “I’ll have to take this proposal of yours to the board,” he said eventually.

      “Of course. They meet tomorrow?”

      “At ten o’clock,” he told her.

      “Then you should have an answer by noon?”

      He nodded. “I’ll meet you at the yacht club at twelve-fifteen and fill you in over lunch.”

      Abby hesitated. She could stay, had planned to stay, in fact, but with Trace involved it was too complicated. “Jess will be there, but I can’t be. I have to get back to New York tonight.”

      His gaze clashed with hers. “You’ll be there if you expect this to be approved.”

      “Why? This is Jess’s business, not mine.”

      “You’ll be there because I intend to recommend that the board approve this on one condition only.”

      Jess sat up a little straighter. “What condition?” she asked suspiciously.

      Trace looked at her as if he’d forgotten she was even in the room. “That your sister take over as manager of the project.”

      “No!” Abby and Jess said at once.

      “It’s my inn,” Jess protested. “You have no right to dictate who manages it.”

      “I do when this bank’s money is involved and you have a history of failing to make your payments,” he said, his gaze unrelenting. “Abby stays or it’s a deal-breaker.”

      “But the plan,” Abby began.

      “Isn’t worth the paper it’s written on unless you remain involved,” he said. “There’s no assurance it won’t be frittered away on who knows what before the next payment’s due.”

      “Come on, Trace, be reasonable,” Abby pleaded. “I need to get back to New York. I have a job. Jess knows what has to be done. I trust her.”

      “You’re her sister. I’m her banker,” he said. “Unless you agree to my terms, we’ll proceed with the foreclosure.”

      He looked from Abby to Jess, then back again. “Well, what’s it going to be? Will I see you tomorrow?”

      Abby bit back the sharp retort on the tip of her tongue and nodded slowly, afraid of what she might say if she spoke. She held her breath, praying that Jess would be as diplomatic. When she glanced at her sister, she discovered Jess looked furious, but at least she remained silent.

      For the moment, he had them both over a barrel and they all knew it. Once the board went along with this insane plan of his, though, Abby was convinced he’d be satisfied with the victory. After that, she could make him see reason. She was sure of it.

      Then again, she’d learned a long time ago that a man whose pride had been damaged could turn into a fierce and stubborn adversary. For now, anyway, Trace Riley held all the cards, so she and Jess were going to have to play the game his way … at least until she could come up with a new set of rules, and then make him believe that he’d come up with them all on his own.

      Outside the bank, Jess stood on the sidewalk, trembling. She whirled on her sister.

      “What the hell just happened in there? I thought you were on my side.”

      “Of course I’m on your side,” Abby said, looking genuinely bewildered by Jess’s attack. “This was all about keeping you from losing the inn.”

      “I might as well have lost it,” Jess snapped. “He’s put you in charge. Way to go, sis!”

      Abby frowned. “Jess, calm down. Let’s go to Sally’s for a cup of coffee and talk about this. We need to plan our strategy.”

      “Strategy for what? Getting your name on the deed?”

      “Jess!”

      There was a flash of hurt in Abby’s eyes, but Jess didn’t feel like relenting. She was spitting mad and she needed someone to take it out on. Her sister was the most obvious choice, since Jess couldn’t go back inside the bank and start pummeling Trace. Even in her fury, she knew that would be counterproductive.

      “I should have let Mick handle it,” she said. “He’d have made a couple of calls and the bank would have backed down. I might have had to listen to his I-told-you-so’s from here to eternity, but that would have been better than being stabbed in the back by you.”

      Temper flared in Abby’s eyes, and Jess knew at once she’d gone too far.

      “That’s it,” Abby said, her tone icy. “I came down here because you asked me to. I didn’t create this mess, but I found a way out of it. I convinced Trace to go along with it, so you could keep the inn.” Her scowl deepened. “And now you want to blame me because Trace put a condition on his terms for not foreclosing? Did you hear me ask for this? Didn’t you hear me tell him no? Do you honestly think I want to be tied to Chesapeake Shores for who knows how long, when my life is in New York?” She shook her head. “It really is true—no good deed goes unpunished.”

      With that, she turned and walked away. Guilt flooded through Jess. Abby was right. She hadn’t asked for this outcome. And maybe, just maybe, if Jess hadn’t kept the fact


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