The Inn at Eagle Point. Sherryl Woods
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with anything for long. Unlike her sisters or her brothers, she’d never displayed a real passion for work, never found her niche. She’d been drifting, and everyone in the family had known it. Worse, they’d expected nothing more of her.
“Oh, you know Jess. She never sticks with anything for long.” How many times had she heard some family member say that, especially her father? When it came from Abby or her brothers, she took it in stride. When Mick said it, it cut Jess to the quick. She’d grown up believing she would never measure up to the high standards he set for all of his children. The inn was her chance to prove him—to prove all of them—wrong.
Fortunately Jess, like her siblings, had a modest trust fund that had come due when she’d turned twenty-one. It had been invested wisely, the amount growing, especially since Abby had taken over managing the account. It was enough, she’d hoped, for a down payment.
Impulsively, she’d made an appointment the next morning with the Realtor. Naively and because she was caught up in the dream, she hadn’t asked to see the books or any other proof that the inn could be operated in the black. She’d done a cursory inspection and found it to be in good shape. After all, one thing she knew about her father and Uncle Jeff, they designed and built things to last. She’d made a conservative bid, which had been accepted at once. The Pattersons were anxious to leave. All that remained was to get the financing in place.
That’s when she should have called Abby, she realized now. Or her father. Even her brothers could have offered sound advice, but, stubbornly independent to the end, she’d handled it all herself. To keep the payments within reason, she’d accepted an interest-only loan for the short term, then planned to refinance once the inn was open and operating at a profit.
Best-laid plans, she thought now, sipping her wine as she waited for Abby to come back from tucking the kids into bed. Nothing had gone as she’d anticipated. The Pattersons had never installed any kind of up-to-date reservation system. The heating and air-conditioning systems were barely functioning and needed to be replaced with something more energy-efficient. While the building itself was sound, the rooms were shabby, the curtains faded, the linens unacceptable. The exterior looked dilapidated, which had been easy enough to fix, but even a coat of paint cost money.
The down payment had depleted her funds, so she’d applied for a business loan, using the inn as collateral. She’d been approved easily.
Filled with excitement, Jess had finally revealed her purchase to the rest of the family. Predictably, Gram and her siblings had been delighted for her. Mick had asked a thousand and one perfectly reasonable questions for which she didn’t have adequate answers. That was when she’d gotten the first nagging sense that she was in over her head.
Then, a few months ago, while she was still trying to complete the necessary redecorating, she’d gotten a letter from the bank pointing out that she was behind on her payments for the mortgage and for the business loan. She’d scrambled to come up with the cash, embarrassed that in her zeal to spruce up the place, she’d overlooked the due dates for those payments. It had happened again a couple of months later. With her funds depleted, she’d missed two payments in a row after that.
That’s when she’d received the warning notice that she was in violation of the terms of both agreements, her mortgage and her small-business loan.
“Meaning what?” she asked Lawrence Riley when she’d called the bank in a panic.
“Meaning with your very spotty payment history, we could start foreclosure procedures. I’ve been keeping an eye on things at the inn. You have no cash flow.”
“I’m renovating. The grand opening is scheduled for July first. I’d hoped to make it by Memorial Day, but it just wasn’t feasible.”
“How do you expect to make these next payments or the ones the month after?”
“I’ll find the money,” she assured him, even though she had no idea where.
“Maybe you should speak to your father,” he suggested. “I’m sure he’d be willing—”
Jess cut him off. “This is my project. My father’s not involved.”
Her comment silenced him, which she thought was a good thing. But then he said, “If I thought your father was backing you, I could look the other way for the short term….”
“Well, he’s not,” Jess repeated. “You’ll get your payments, Mr. Riley. You know what potential the inn has. You know it’s going to be a success.”
“With the right management, yes,” he said. “I’m no longer convinced you’re the person who can accomplish that.”
His condescension and lack of faith infuriated her. She would have told him off, but even Jess was wise enough to recognize her already precarious standing with the banker.
“Please, be patient,” she said instead. “These are good loans, Mr. Riley. You know me. You know my family.”
“As I said, if you want to bring your father in, we can discuss—”
“No,” she’d replied fiercely.
“It’s your decision, of course. I’ll expect the payments on my desk on time,” he said. “Good day, Jessica.”
That conversation had taken place on Tuesday. She’d called Abby on Wednesday, the minute she’d realized there was no way she’d have the money in time. She knew Abby was going to flip out when she heard the kind of deals Jess had made without consulting her, but in the end she’d help her fix things, because that was what Abby did. She made things right. Even when her marriage was falling apart, she’d found a way to keep her equilibrium, stay on track at work and give the twins the kind of attention they needed to get through the turmoil. If she’d handled all that, this would be a piece of cake, Jess thought confidently.
Of course, that was before she’d realized that Trace was part of the equation. She had no idea exactly what had happened between him and Abby all those years ago, but it hadn’t been good. There was a history there, and despite Trace’s assurance that he wouldn’t let it interfere with the bank’s decision, Jess wasn’t a hundred percent sure she could believe him. Nor was she certain how Abby would feel once she knew she’d be dealing with her old flame. It might be better not to mention that at the outset.
When Abby finally joined her on the porch, Jess asked about work, how the girls were doing in kindergarten, whether there were any new men in Abby’s life. Abby finally regarded her with impatience. “You’re stalling,” she accused.
Jess flushed. “Maybe a little, but I did want to catch up. We never get to have a real heart-to-heart anymore. I miss that.”
Abby’s expression softened. “Me, too. But a life-or-death problem tops catching up. Talk to me.”
An hour later, after Jess had spilled her guts and seen the dismay in Abby’s eyes, she wasn’t so sure this was going to be as easy to fix as she’d hoped.
“We can straighten this out, can’t we?” she asked her sister, unable to keep a plaintive note out of her voice. “I know I’ve made a mess of things so far, but when you see the inn again, you’ll understand why I had to do it exactly this way. It’s going to be amazing.”
“It will only be amazing if you can keep the bank from foreclosing,” Abby said direly. “Why didn’t you call me sooner? I would have loaned you the money.”
“I don’t need your money,” Jess insisted. “I can do this on my own. I just need to buy a little more time. A couple of months, max.”
“You have reservations coming in?”
“We’re booked solid the rest of the summer, and we’re starting to get reservations for the fall,” Jess said proudly. “Plus, once word of mouth kicks in about how cozy the place is and how fabulous the food is, that should take care of the rest of the year, at least on weekends. I’m going to offer some holiday specials, too, to try to boost bookings in November,