Page 15 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of activity. I shadowed Amelia through every department, learning the complex dance of resort operations—how housekeeping coordinated with maintenance, how the kitchen timed deliveries with meal service and the hundred small details she juggled effortlessly.

By lunch, I had pages of notes and a deeper appreciation for just how much she managed daily. We were reviewing staffing schedules in her office when raised voices from the adjacent conference room caught our attention. One was distinctly Arthur Horton’s, carrying that edge of desperation I recognized from my father’s final business days.

“The bank won’t wait forever, John! If we can’t show significant improvement—“

“There are other options,” a second voice cut in. “Crystal Ridge Developments has expressed interest—“

“Over my dead body,” Arthur growled. “I won’t sell to those vultures.”

I glanced at Amelia, but she had frozen in her chair, her face draining of color as she listened to her father. The staffing schedule she’d been reviewing slipped from her trembling fingers.

“Then we have thirty days,” the second voice—John—said grimly. “After that, foreclosure proceedings begin automatically.”

The voices moved away, but their words hung like smoke in the office. Amelia clenched her hands so tight that her knuckles turned white, a gesture like my mother’s before we lost our family business, and my chest ached.

“Amelia,” I started, but she held up a hand.

“Don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Just... don’t.”

She stood shakily, moving to the window. The morning sun that had warmed our coffee break now felt harsh, highlighting every line of tension in her posture. I wanted to go to her, offer comfort, but something in the way she held herself—like she might shatter at a touch—warned me away.

My phone buzzed—the temp agency was confirming staff arrivals. But looking at Amelia’s rigid back, watching her fight for control, I knew we needed more than temporary solutions.

We needed a miracle.

Or maybe just one corrupt official’s worth of dirt on Crystal Ridge Developments.

The idea formed as I watched her, remembering every ruthless takeover I’d witnessed in my corporate years. Crystal Ridge wouldn’t play fair, neither would I. Not with Pine Haven at stake. Not with her.

***

The afternoon sun beat down as I made my way into town, my mind churning with what I’d overheard. Crystal Ridge Developments wasn’t just planning competition—they were circling like vultures, waiting for Pine Haven to fail. The same way Morrison Industries had circled Dad’s company before the end.

I pulled into the small parking lot behind the county records office, adjusting my tie with a grimace. Time to put my corporate reputation—and unfortunately, my charm—to good use. I’d always hated this part of business, the schmoozing and flirting for information. It reminded me too much of the games played during Dad’s final days. But for Amelia? For the way, her eyes lit up when she talked about Pine Haven’s legacy? I’d play whatever part necessary.

“Mr. Miller!” The clerk’s eyes widened as I approached her desk. According to her nameplate, Pearl looked to be in her mid-thirties, her blonde hair arranged in careful curls. “What brings you to our little office?”

I leaned casually against her desk, letting my smile turn warm and intimate—the same smile that had closed million-dollar deals. “Please, call me Hunter. And I was hoping you might help me with something.” I loosened my tie slightly, noting how her eyes followed the movement.

“Of course!” She sat up straighter, smoothing her hair. “What can I do for you... Hunter?”

“Research for a potential development project.” I moved closer, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “I was hoping to look at some recent permit applications. Though I’m sure you’re too busy to help me dig through all those dusty files...”

“Oh, no!” She jumped up eagerly. “I mean, it’s no trouble at all. The permit files are right back here.”

I followed her to the records room, mentally apologizing to Amelia for what I was about to do. The familiar mix of guilt and necessity settled in my stomach. Pearl chatted animatedly as she pulled files, clearly enjoying the attention.

Twenty minutes of careful flirtation later—complimenting her filing system, asking about her work, letting my hand linger when she passed documents—I had what I needed. Crystal Ridge had filed permits for not just one but three properties in the area. All mysteriously fast-tracked through the system, just like the permits that had surrounded Dad’s company before the end.

Back in my car, I loosened my tie completely, feeling slightly dirty. Pearl seemed nice—someone who genuinely took pride in her work. But the ends justified the means. Pine Haven was worth it. Amelia was worth it. When she talked about saving her family’s legacy, the thought of her face made the uncomfortable flirtation fade to nothing more than a necessary evil.

My phone buzzed. Amelia’s name lit up the screen, and my genuine smile returned instantly. This—her—was real. Everything else was just a means to an end.

“Where are you?” She sounded stressed. “The temp staff arrived, but they need orientation, and the Hendersons’ anniversary dinner setup needs—“

“I’ll be there in ten,” I cut in. My heart rate picked up at the strain in her voice. “Everything okay?”

A pause, then, “Just... hurry.”

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