Page 3 of Under the Northern Lights
Gage Weston gritted his teeth, trying to tamp down his growing irritation. Clive had been relentless in his determination to meet and discuss his client’s previous offer to buy Gage’s family’s property and the business that came with it. The private equity firm Clive represented wanted to come in and build a high-end resort. The reason smaller private fishing retreats in the area were going under. Swallowed up by the bigger, wealthier conglomerate fish.
No, Gage thought angrily as he dug deeper into his store of determination. His family’s business was not going to go under. Not if he had anything to do with it. He had agreed to that afternoon’s meeting for one reason only—to put an end to the realtor’s pursuit once and for all.
Thankfully, the lunch hour had passed, leaving the small port diner empty, except for two elderly local women who frequented Glady’s Glacier Grill, where the menu’s playful catchphrase was:Good eats found here, don’t Juneau?
Mrs. Hodgkins and Mrs. Gilroy were chatting away at a two-seater table near the front entrance. They were finishing up their slices of Glady’s freshly baked apple pie between sips of hot tea. From where he and Clive were seated across the room in front ofa small gaslit fireplace, Gage doubted the women had overheard much of the conversation he and the persistent intermediary had been having.
Redirecting his focus back to the man sent to broker a deal, Gage said evenly, “I’m not sure where you’re getting your information from, but Living the Good Life Fishing Retreat is staying in my family where it belongs. It’s not for sale. Never has been. Never will be.” Leaning forward, he pushed the offer back across the table to Clive and then went back to eating the open-faced pot roast sandwich he had ordered before the other man had joined him.
Clive shoved the paper back into his dark brown leather briefcase. “I had thought you might see things differently now, considering your father’s continuing health issues.”
Gage’s gaze snapped up, pinning the realtor in place. His dad’s recovery from the stroke he had a little over ten months earlier was not going to be used as a bargaining chip by Clive Wagner or anyone. “My father is on the road to a full recovery. Until then, all decisions regarding the lodge have been turned over to me. We’renotselling.”
Clive stood up from the table, briefcase clutched at his side.
Gage stood as well.
Extending his hand, Clive said with a sigh, “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”
Something Gage would not be doing. With a nod of acknowledgment, he extended his hand to the other man in a firm handshake, then stood watching as Clive, along with his client’s generous offer, walked out of the diner.
Lowering himself back into his seat, Gage dragged a hand through his dark brown hair with a sigh. Then he picked up his fork and stabbed at the lukewarm pot roast with its now soggy bread base. Not that it mattered. His appetite had leftwith Clive’s not-so-subtle reminder of the issues Gage’s family business was facing.
The end of the main fishing season was nearing and that would mean less money coming in. That’s how it normally was during the off-season. But the rest of the year always made up for it. However, they had seen a decline in bookings thanks to the opening of the Reel and Relax Resort, a nearby resort offering its guests not only fishing excursions, but spa amenities as well. One of several that had been built along the coastline and on two other remote Alaskan islands in the past four years.
While Gage and his family had made the difficult decision to limit their bookings in the months after his father returned from the hospital, the deluxe resort chain had drawn in several of Gage’s regulars. Selling out would be easy, but Gage wasn’t looking for easy. He was looking for a way to save his family’s legacy.
His gaze shifted to the two elderly women across the room as they stood. Mrs. Gilroy bent to place a tip on the table between the two teacups, and then the two friends pulled on their rain jackets, zipping them up tight.
“Be safe on your flight home, dear,” Mrs. Hodgkins called over to him.
“Verna, it’s Gage,” Mrs. Gilroy said as they tugged the hoods of their jackets up over their beauty-salon-perfected heads. “That young man doesn’t need anyone telling him to be careful. No one pilots a plane better than he does.”
That brought a much-needed grin to Gage’s face. Almost everyone in this part of Juneau knew Gage and his family. Both his father and mother had grown up here, and Gage’s family had made plenty of trips into town to pick things up for the retreat over the years.
“You two ladies be careful walking out in that rain. The ground might be slick.”
“It’s barely more than a drizzle now,” Mrs. Hodgkins assured him. “But you’re a dear for thinking of us.” With a wave, the two women slipped out into the still-slightly-inclement weather.
“Care for a refill?”
Gage turned to find Glady Walters, a close friend of his mother’s and longtime owner of Glady’s Glacier Grill, smiling down at him, coffeepot in hand.
He nudged his empty cup closer to the edge of the table to make pouring easier for her. “One more for the road, I suppose.”
“In your case, I think that would be one more for the air.”
Gage chuckled. “True.”
Her expression grew serious. “I hope that man finally got the message,” she said with a shake of her head as she refilled the cup.
Gage’s brow lifted.
“It’s a small diner,” she admitted with a shrug. “When it’s all but empty during the mid-afternoon lull, conversations tend to carry in here.”
Which was why he’d chosen that time of day to have his talk with the private equity group’s go-between. The fewer people around to overhear their conversation, the better. He wasn’t concerned about Glady overhearing. She and his mother had probably already discussed at least some of the lodge’s situation. But at the reminder of how easily words carried in the near-empty room, Gage cast a glance in the direction the two older women had been sitting.
“No need to worry about Mrs. Gilroy or Mrs. Hodgkins,” Glady assured him. “Those two talk as loudly as they do because they’re both hard of hearing.”
