Page 14 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

Fernando’s expression grew serious as he arranged croissants with practiced care. “Since her father stepped back two years ago. The economy got bad, staff started leaving for bigger resorts. She just...” he shrugged, but I caught the protective note in his voice, “picked up the slack. Like her mother used to do.”

Something in my chest tightened, watching her. The careful way she demonstrated the machine’s features, her patient smile as the server practiced—it all looked effortless. But I caught the slight droop in her shoulders, the way she subtly massaged her neck when she thought no one was looking. The same tells I remembered from debate tournaments when she’d push herself too hard.

The morning rush hit like a wave. Suddenly, I was busing tables, refilling coffee urns, and even manning the omelet station when one cook called in sick. Through it all, Amelia was everywhere, greeting guests by name, solving problems before they became crises, and keeping everything running with a grace that reminded me painfully of how Mom used to manage our household.

It wasn’t until the breakfast rush finally died that I overheard something that made my blood run cold.

“The new Crystal Ridge Resort is going to be amazing,” a well-dressed woman said to her companion at a corner table, her voice carrying that tone of someone used to being listened to. “Right up the mountain from here. My husband’s firm is handling the permits.”

I slowed my coffee pot refills, staying within earshot.

“Another luxury resort?” her friend asked, stirring her tea with a look of practiced concern. “Won’t that hurt places like this?”

The first woman’s laugh was dismissive—the kind I’d heard too often in corporate boardrooms. “Oh, this place won’t be around much longer, anyway. I heard from Sonia at the bank that they’re about to foreclose—“

I moved away before I could hear more, my mind racing. A new resort? Foreclosure? The pieces started clicking together—the fast-tracked permits I’d been investigating, the pressure from the bank, Arthur’s increasing anxiety. But I couldn’t let Amelia hear it like this, as callous gossip over breakfast.

She was in the lobby when I found her, helping an elderly guest with his luggage despite wearing heels that had to be killing her by now. I waited until she finished, then caught her arm gently. Her skin was warm under my fingers.

“Take a break,” I mumbled, noting the tension in her shoulders. “You’ve been going since five.”

“I’m fine,” she pulled away, but I held firm, remembering how she’d push through debate tournaments until she nearly collapsed.

“Amelia.” I kept my voice low, intimate. “Ten minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

Something in my tone must have convinced her, or maybe exhaustion won out. She followed me to our deck, as I’d started thinking of it, where I’d already arranged coffee and those bear claws she loved but never bought for herself.

“What’s this about?” she asked, sinking into a chair. The morning light caught the shadows under her eyes that makeup couldn’t hide.

“Can’t a guy bring his partner coffee?” I tried to be casual, though my heart jumped at the word ‘partner.’ But her eyes narrowed—she’d always been able to read me too well.

“Hunter.”

I sighed, sitting across from her. The mountain air carried the scent of pine and fresh pastries. “I made some calls thismorning. There’s a temp agency in town that specializes in hospitality staff. They can have people here this afternoon.”

“We can’t afford—“

“I’m covering it,” I cut in, watching her expression shift from exhaustion to that familiar stubborn pride. “Consider it an investment in Pine Haven’s future.”

She stood abruptly. “I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity.” I caught her hand before she could leave, remembering too late how every touch between us seemed charged lately. “It’s me refusing to watch you work yourself into the ground. When was the last time you took a day off?”

She pulled her hand away but didn’t leave. The morning sun caught her face, highlighting her beauty and her exhaustion. “This is my responsibility.”

“And you’re doing an amazing job. But Amelia...” I stood, needing her to understand, to see what I saw—a woman trying to carry her family’s legacy alone. “You can’t save Pine Haven if you burn out.”

Something flickered in her eyes—vulnerability, maybe, or the same loneliness I’d glimpsed at Taylor’s wedding. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can. But you don’t have to handle it alone.”

The morning sun caught her face, highlighting the shadows under her eyes she’d tried to conceal with makeup. Watching her fight her instincts, I remembered all the times she’d refused help in high school—carrying too many books, taking on extra debate research, always insisting she was fine.

“Let me help,” I said. “Please.”

She stared at me for a long moment, and I could almost see her weighing pride against practicality. Finally, she nodded once. “One week trial. But I’m paying you back.”

“We’ll discuss terms later.” I pulled out my phone, already texting the agency before she could change her mind. “Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

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