Page 7 of You Had Me At Valentine

“Assign me a job, boss,” I say lightly. “At least put the tallest guy in the room to work hanging stuff or something.”

“You should go,” she tells me over her shoulder. “You have a long drive back to Denver. Wouldn’t want to keep all those other clients waiting.”

“I’m not going back to Denver.”

That gets her attention. A heart falls from her fingertips. “You’re staying in town?”

“Not just in town.” I spread my hands. “Here. At the inn. You really should call your father.”

Three

Lyra

The lobby of the inn explodes with festive Valentine’s Day cheer. And by explodes, I mean, I go overboard. Possiblythat has more to do with how much I enjoy ordering Byron around than actual decorating tenacity.

The entertainment value of a man straining to reach the highest point above a window—while covered in glitter—cannot be overstated.

Byron’s grin never slipped. Somewhere in the depths of my soul, I have a little sliver of respect for that. It’s deep though. Mostly I’m miffed that he doesn’t seem overly hot and bothered by my presence.

I cannot claim the same.

Because let’s be honest. Watching Byron do anything is not a chore and then he took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and proceeded to prove that stringing up hearts can indeed be sexy.

I might have put him through his paces strictly for the view. It’s not a crime.

That’s going to happen later on, when I kill him for selling my inn. And for still being the hottest guy in a valley-wide radius.

At least he finally took off to settle into his room so I could get my faculties about me.

Spoiler alert: that didn’t happen.

Byron is back.

For the next two weeks anyway. How ironic is it that he plans to put the inn on the market the day after Valentine’s Day?

I have two weeks to figure this out. With or without his help. I at least have enough wits about me to understand that he’s the lynchpin in this scenario. My father will listen to him. I know it.

The real question is whether I have enough sway with Byron to get him away from the dark side and back into my camp.

My gut doesn’t feel too good about my chances. What happened between us is ancient history, but dang, it was harsh. And hard to forget.

After telling me he didn’t feel the same way about me as I clearly did for him, he walked away without a backward glance.Apparently, we were too young to know what we really wanted from life, and this way, I could be free to figure it out.

Yeah, the air quotes are quotey enough to create a breeze.

The conversation I need to have with my father deserves a face-to-face, not a phone call. Possibly I might have some choice words to say that can’t be properly conveyed otherwise.

When I get back to the resort, I confront Lachlan in his office, which is the size of a tennis court. It overlooks the valley, which I’m sure is not an accident.

I love running the resort, so my office is in the back, where staff members can find me easily. I’ve spent my whole life weaving myself into this place with my name on the sign. Don’t I deserve better than hearing about the inn fromByron Hale?

My father glances up when I knock on the heavy wooden door. Lachlan MacLellan commands the space around him, even in casual clothes.

“I’ve been instructed to speak with you,” I tell him, in lieu of a greeting, which matches my mood.

He doesn’t smile. We don’t have that kind of relationship. Which is fine. Mostly. Would I love it if he acknowledged that we’re a team occasionally? Sure. But in the meantime, I’ll take a second chance for the inn.

He gestures to the leather chairs edging his desk, his expression unreadable. “I take it you’ve met with Byron.”

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