Page 22 of Colton's Last Resort

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Erica can see to it.”

“I know she can,” Laura said. “But this is personal.”

Adam conceded. “Are you ready for Clive?”

Laura eyed the to-go cup she’d set on her desk. “Ask me again after coffee.”

At sixty-one, Clive Colton looked shrunken. He still had his spine. Admitting weakness was distasteful to him. But now he cut a less imposing figure, more compact and slightly stooped compared to his once-distinctive six-foot frame. More salt than pepper tinted his hair. His suit was conservative, tasteful and impeccably bespoke.

He hugged her upon entering the conference room, just as he embraced Adam and Joshua. The latter pulled away after a brief clutch. The hug wasn’t about warmth or familiarity. It was for form’s sake, something Joshua didn’t give a fig about.

Greg Sumpter, the siblings’ private attorney, shook hands with Clive. “It’s been a long time, Clive.”

“Sure,” Clive said, his smile falling away. “How are you, Sumpter?”

“Oh, just fine, thank you,” Greg replied jovially. Tall, fit, Greg was dressed casually. No suit or tie for him. He wore his collar open. His relaxed demeanor, paired with his legal savvy, had appealed to Adam, Laura and Joshua right away. He visited the resort often, not just for business, but to check in personally with the three of them and to see Tallulah. He was forty-eight and unmarried, and Laura knew he had a one-sided love for their head of housekeeping.

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” Clive told him.

Adam spoke up from the head of the table, where he stood behind his usual chair. “I asked Greg to join us.”

“Why is that?” Clive asked.

Greg answered quickly. “He thought you and I could play a round of golf later. It snowed last night, but it should melt off quickly. Do you still get out on the course?”

Clive lifted a shoulder. “Now and then. Can’t swing it like I used to.”

Joshua groaned.

“We’ll tee off this afternoon,” Greg said. “How’s that sound?”

“Fine,” Clive said, pulling out a chair for himself.

Greg sent Adam a wink before taking a seat. Laura folded into a chair between her brothers, smoothing her skirt over her legs. “What do we owe the pleasure of a visit?” she asked Clive directly. “You didn’t bring Glenna with you?”

“Not this time,” he said, running a hand down his tie.

“And your health?” Adam mentioned. “How are you feeling?”

“Spry enough,” Clive said, cracking a smile. That smile had caught the imagination of his wife and mistress and the other women he’d taken a shine to through the years. “Thanks for asking.”

“Would you like coffee?” Laura offered. “Tea?”

“Mylanta?” Joshua muttered, earning a nudge from Laura.

Clive didn’t seem to hear him. “No. Thank you, though, Precious.” His grin broadened. “Anybody tell you lately you look just like your mother?”

“No,” she answered.

“Pretty as a picture,” he said proudly. “Just like Annabeth. She was stunning. Before the cancer did its bit—”

“What did you call this meeting for?” Adam interrupted as Laura tensed and Joshua muttered under his breath.

“Are you in a hurry, son?” Clive asked.

“We’ve got meetings scheduled for the conference room at eleven thirty and after lunch,” Adam told him. “Spring means nuptials, and Mariposa has become the place for destination weddings.”

“Congratulations,” Clive said. His eyes were drawn to the view from the windows. “You’ve built something impressive here. You were so young when you took it on. I didn’t think you’d last long in Arizona. Now you’ve got something to be admired.”

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