Page 2 of The Main Event

“Well, I don’t like it,” Mom announced.

Dad and I unveiled twin smirks. My mother had never been one to keep her opinion to herself.

“I’m shocked that you don’t like it,” Dad drawled.

Mom shot him a dirty look. “You don’t even know why I don’t like it, and you’re already making fun of me.”

“That is how we operate,” Dad agreed. “I’m interested in hearing why you don’t like it, though.”

“Me, too,” Lux enthused. “I love Salem gossip. Jesse is terrible at it. He’ll listen to the servers talking and get the gossip all wrong when he finally delivers it to me. I want some honest-to-goodness dirt, people.”

I laughed as I bit into the squash. I still didn’t know what it was, but it was heavenly. “You know, it’s probably good that you pinned down Jesse,” I said to her. “If not, I would totally steal him just for the meals he could provide alone.”

“Oh, I could totally take you,” Lux countered. “Don’t hit on my man.”

She was so happy, all I could do was smile. She’d never been the romantic sort, which was why people had been so surprised when she fell head over heels for Jesse. I had always been a romantic at heart but was still alone.

Nope, I definitely wasn’t jealous.

“Get to the gossip,” Lux prodded when I hadn’t said anything for several seconds.

I shook myself out of my momentary pity party. “Oh, right.” I exhaled a sigh. “So, the new Hunter comes in Monday. They say his name is Jaxon, but he goes by Jax, and the rumor is he’s never run a hotel before.”

Rosie’s eyebrows moved toward one another. “Is he the best one to be taking over a historic hotel?”

“It was left to him.”

“To him specifically?” Dad queried. “What about the rest of the family? I thought there were Hunters everywhere.”

“There are, but I guess this guy was specifically left the hotel, and the others were cut out of the deal,” I explained. “I got theskinny from Melody in accounting. She said that George Hunter was estranged from almost everybody in the family.”

“I think that’s true,” Mom said. “I knew a Carrie Hunter when I was in high school. She was a niece. I remember asking her if she got to live in the hotel because I just assumed that was a thing. She very primly told me that her arm of the family had nothing to do with George. He was considered an eccentric.”

“That sounds about right,” Dad agreed. “There’s an arm of the Hunter family over in Boston. They have a lot of business dealings in the city—I think real estate is their game—and I’m pretty sure I’ve met a few of George’s sons. They were all estranged from him.”

“Still, that’s sad,” Rosie said. “You were always fond of George, right?” she asked me.

I nodded without hesitation. “I always thought George was great,” I confirmed. “He was fun. He gave great bonuses. He also had no qualms hiring me as a party planner even though I was still figuring things out.”

“Yes, but that means he got you for cheap,” Dad argued. “That was a win-win scenario for him. If you screwed it up, he could use you as a scapegoat.”

“Which he never did,” I reminded my overprotective father. “He basically let me do whatever I wanted when it came to the event planning at the hotel. Don’t talk badly about him. I miss him.”

George had apparently known he was dying for six months but only told a select few people. I was not one of them. He had gotten all of his affairs in order, and when the end was near, he told everyone he was going on vacation. In reality, he went into hospice care.

When his death was announced two weeks after he’d left for his supposed vacation, I’d been wrecked. Everybody mourned George at the Hunter Hotel. We cried and reminisced. I hadn’teven bothered to think about what would happen next until somebody had brought it up.

Two weeks ago, George’s will had been read at some family get-together. It was assumed the hotel would pass down to his sons and be split evenly, maybe even sold. That didn’t happen, though. Instead, the hotel went to this one grandson. And all the money George had amassed in his lifetime? Half of that went to the one grandson too—I’m sure all the other grandchildren were bitter—and the other half went to various charities.

The rumor was that George’s sons were going to fight the will. That had been the plan, until George’s estate planner dropped the hammer. There had been multiple witnesses to the new will, which was put together shortly after he got the news he was dying. Those witnesses had attested to the fact that George was of sound mind when he decided what he was doing. He hadn’t even started any pain medication yet. That meant the sons didn’t have a leg to stand on, and Jax Hunter would be inheriting.

I was still debating whether that was a good or bad thing.

“What do we know about this Jax?” Rosie asked. “Does he have a good reputation?” She directed the question at my father.

“I don’t know anything about him,” Dad replied.

“What about you?” Rosie looked as if she were preparing for war when she asked the question. “Do we need to curse this guy before he even arrives?”

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