Page 9 of Meet Me at the Grand

“Oh. Um, okay.” Had her dream of her family all being together again clouded her judgment? “Could you tell me why?”

“I should rephrase. It won’t work on its own.”

“What does that mean?”

“The pandemic isn’t what killed our economy. It was only the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.” At Dani’s wrinkled nose, he continued, pinning her with a sympathetic look. “The decline of Jonathon Island began ten years ago when the Grand Sullivan Hotel burned partially to the ground.”

Oh.Oh.

“Now that you say it, I think I kind of knew that.” She’d been able to sense a shift back then, but she’d been so caught up in her own pain—her own sense of betrayal, of loneliness, of fear, of guilt—that she hadn’t stopped to consider the larger impact. Even now, though, the details were fuzzy. “Can you clarify how that played a role?”

“A large part of the hotel that burned was housing for seasonal staff. Once we had no place to house the hundreds of workers who came in just for the season, businesses couldn’t get as much help as they needed, which meant they couldn’t stay open as many hours. It was a snowball effect.” He shook his head. “I suppose for now we could take a handful of the empty homes and use them for seasonal staff, but unless we rebuild the Grand, we have no long-term solution.”

A buzz started low in Dani’s stomach. Rebuild the Grand? That was more than she could have hoped for. If anything could get her family back to the island, it was that. Especially James. “Great. Let’s do it then.”

Uncle Seb laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Don’t you think I’ve tried over the years? There’s one problem with that—your father.”

“Right. How could I have forgotten?” It was the whole reason the divorce and the four years between her fourteenth and eighteenth birthdays had been so terrible—the fight over the Grand Hotel, which had been built on Jonathon land but with Sullivan money. Uncle Seb and Mom still owned the land, but Dad still owned the heap of ashes formerly known as the Grand. And he had refused to sell it to the town ever since.

“What if I asked him?” Yes. Maybe. “What if I got him to sell it?”

Uncle Seb’s eyes lit, and he leaned forward—so far that his shirt nearly touched the food on his plate. “If you could do that, then I’d say you’re a miracle worker.”

Dani bit her lip. “But then who would develop it? The town hardly has the resources to invest in something like that.”

“I still have connections in New York.”

“Of course you do.” Despite now living on the island full time, he still kept one hand in the dealings at the New York-based law firm where he was partner and where her older cousin Bash worked.

“If you can get your dad to sell, then I’m confident I can find a developer willing to work with us on this.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Her uncle reached across the table, took her hand, squeezed it. “And you, my sweet niece, may just yet save us all.”

* * *

Ah, home sweet home.

Or close enough, anyway.

Liam stepped inside the twentieth-story office of Stone Development, wheeling his suitcase behind him. The familiar smell of peppermint—thanks to the diffuser on Marianne’s desk—swept over him, catching each one of his tired nerves and stretching them until they relaxed. His suitcase wheels got stuck momentarily on the lip of the plush, blue rug that Marianne insisted made the office feel cozy and “not so sterile.”

And they all knew Marianne was the real boss around here.

Speaking of the angel herself, she glanced up from her large white wooden desk and grinned. “Liam! You’re back.” The administrative assistant stood and rounded the desk quicker than he’d thought was possible, given she’d just received a new knee three months ago.

Liam offered a warm smile and pulled the woman into his arms. The top of her gray-streaked curls just barely hit the center of his chest. “I’m back.” Hopefully for a while this time—if his pitch with Dad went well. He released her. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing much.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Just a whole soap opera.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Do tell.” Honestly, he wasn’t one for office gossip, but Marianne delighted in knowing everything about everyone.

As Liam rested his tired body against the desk, Marianne quickly filled him in on how Dominic and Toni had finally gone on a date. Everyone had apparently seen that one coming from a mile away. Liam hadn’t. And how Layla was pregnant and would be going out on maternity leave in about six months. And how Rob and Duke had nearly come to fisticuffs—Marianne’s words—in the break room over a project they both wanted.

Liam smiled and nodded the whole time, until Marianne suddenly giggled. “Oh dear, I fear I’m boring you, sugar.” Leaning back against the desk, she bumped the large photo frame next to her computer, which held a photo collage of her three kids, seven grandkids, and her late husband Jerry.

“What? Never.” He tried to hide the yawn behind his hand but knew the secretary had caught him. “Sorry. Had a really early flight from New York.”

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