Page 13 of The Seascape Between Us

I sincerely hoped that I could avoid him until he checked out and went back to his life in Portland. Although, after he'd demanded I serve him dinner last night, I didn’t think I’d be that lucky. God, he’d probably ask me to serve him breakfast. At least he’d be gone in a few hours—he had no reason to stay, after all—and I could go back to living my life and running my hotel… for now. How long before he listed my business for sale? How long until someone swooped in and bought my hotel out from under me?

I did my best to ignore the flutter of panic at my throat, the fine sheen of cold sweat forming on my skin. What the hell would I do once this place was gone? I would have no job, no home. I had no education past high school. Running a hotel is all I had ever done, but I doubted bigger and more successful hotels would be lining up to hire me after running my own hotel into the ground.

Inside, I crossed the lobby into the restaurant and helped myself to a cup of coffee. Hopefully, between the caffeine and ibuprofens, it would take the edge off the headache, and I’d stop feeling so damn sorry for myself.

I hated to think about what the new owners might do to my hotel. Would they tear down the beautiful, curved wallsand rich teak paneling to replace it with a box-shaped building where everything is painted beige? My stomach churned at the thought.

I had to figure out a way to stop Grey. Speaking to a lawyer came to mind. I should probably find out if there was a way to shut Grey down or even delay him, but who was I kidding? I couldn’t afford that.

Coffee in hand, I made my way to my office. Carter was behind the desk, phone receiver pinned between his ear and shoulder, while he used both hands to type into the computer. When his gaze landed on me, his eyes widened meaningfully as if he was trying desperately to communicate something while being trapped speaking to a guest.

I frowned, but inevitably eased past him. He could tell me whatever he needed to once he was off the phone. I pushed open my office door and froze.

Grey sat behind my computer, frowning down at the screen. The past year’s financials were spread out over the desk—mydesk. Having heard the door open, he looked up from the computer and smirked. “You look like shit. Didn’t you sleep?”

His assessment of my physical appearance didn’t even offend me. After all, he wasn’t wrong. Apparently, spending time with the ex I’d never really gotten over, both hating and loving every moment of it, had a negative impact on my sleep. Who would have guessed? “What are you doing in here?”

“I couldn’t sleep, either.” He turned back to the computer screen. “And when I can’t sleep, I work.”

“This ismyoffice,” I reminded him, moving into the room. “You need to find somewhere else to work.”

“I prefer to think of it asouroffice,partner.” He didn’t look up from whatever he was doing on my computer, and he made no effort to move. I ground my teeth until my jaw ached, but I wasn’t going to get dragged into some pissing contest. I wastired, irritable, and my head was still pounding. As exhausted as I was, I didn’t sit. I refused to use the chair opposite myowndesk as if I were a guest. Besides, maybe if I hovered next to him, he’d take the hint and get out.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” I asked.

Grey glanced up from the computer, then leaned back in the ancient chair, springs squeaking loudly in the quiet. His narrowed gaze snagged on mine. “I’ll tell you about my sleepless nights if you tell me about yours.”

I shot him my own wry smirk before taking a sip of coffee. “Something about being forced to sellmyhotel and wondering what will happen tomyemployees keeps me up at night.”

“Congratulations!” Grey said with false brightness. “Yoursleepless nights are about to come to an end.”

I froze, coffee cup halfway to my mouth, refusing to let myself hope. “What do you mean?”

Grey’s hard smile stretched wider. “You won. I’mnotgoing to sell the hotel.”

Rather than a sense of relief, apprehension unwound low inside me like a cold snake while I waited for the other shoe to drop. “Don’t fuck with me.”

He snorted. “Been there, done that.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” When I didn’t respond and just eyed him suspiciously, he let out a long sigh. “After dinner last night, I started to consider what it would take to turn this place around and whether it would be worth it. I think I can make it work. I’m not going to sell.”

The relief I’d been holding at bay swept through me, nearly knocking me off my feet, and I finally sank into the chair opposite my desk. “Grey, thank you. What you’re doing—”

He held up his hand, cutting me off. “Don’t think for one second I did this for you. This is a business decision, andwhatever history we had doesn’t factor into what’s happening at the hotel. I can put the past behind me to get this place profitable, but outside of this hotel, we’re nothing to each other—not friends, not acquaintances,nothing.”

Over the years, I’d forgotten how cutting Grey could be with his words. The reminder first thing in the morning, with a pounding headache and before I’d finished my first cup of coffee, wasn’t great, especially after tossing and turning all night, thinking about how it felt to touch him again.

“Got it.” My voice scraped like a rusty hinge, and I had to clear my throat before saying more. “So, what do you need from me?”

“The plan is to update the rooms, bring them into the current century—”

“I think guests like the mid-century feel,” I told him, doing my best to ignore the irritation prickling along the back of my neck. He reallywasplanning to fill the rooms with generic furniture and paint everything beige. “We’re not like every other hotel in the area.”

He glared. “I think guests want to stay in rooms that don’t feel like they were furnished with thrift store finds, and when was the last time the bathrooms were updated.”

That was an easy question to answer. Never, at least not all at once and with any plan for uniformity. “I’ve replaced pieces over the years when I had to.”

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