Page 51 of Healing Hearts at the Christmas Inn
"Fine," Jack said finally. "But as soon as we're in a better financial position, I insist on paying for their services. Full rate. No discounts."
"Of course." Logan's agreement came too quickly, too easily.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "I mean it."
"I know you do." Logan was already gathering the documents, stacking them carefully. "What are your plans for today?"
"Supplies run into St. Augustine. The kitchen needs restocking, and we need various things for the inn." Jack stood, stretching until his back popped. "The glamorous life of an innkeeper."
"I'm meeting with the attorney." Logan slid the documents back into their original envelope, then pulled open Jack's desk drawer and retrieved a larger manila envelope. He slipped the foreclosure notice inside, hiding the damning red letters. "We need to get ahead of this instead of just reacting."
"Agreed." Jack watched Logan tuck the envelope under his arm. "Meet back here this afternoon for a catch up?"
"Sure." Logan headed for the door, then paused with his hand on the knob. "Thanks for trusting me with this."
"You didn't give me much choice." But Jack's tone was warm. "Oh, before you go. We're all going to the tree lighting tonight in St. Augustine. And by all of us, that includes you."
Logan turned back, his expression cautious. "Who is we all?"
"Me, Jane, Gran, Holly, Trinity, and Charlie."
Something flickered in Logan's eyes at Charlie's name. Interest mixed with wariness, like a man spotting quicksand and debating whether to risk crossing it anyway.
Logan thought for a second, then nodded slowly. "It could be fun."
"Great." Jack tried not to smile at the way Logan's shoulders had tensed at the mention of Charlie Burke. "Seven o'clock. Don't be late."
Logan opened the door just as footsteps approached from the hallway.
"Good morning, Uncle Logan!" Jane's voice rang out, bright and cheerful in a way that made Jack's chest tighten with unexpected emotion.
He heard Logan sigh, a sound caught between exasperation and deep affection. The kind of sound a man made when faced with someone he loved who refused to stop embarrassing him.
It put a smile on Jack's face despite everything.
Jane appeared in the doorway as Logan disappeared down the hall, her auburn hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, paint smudges already decorating her hands even though it wasn't yet eight in the morning.
"Morning, sweetheart." Jack settled back into his chair. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep." Jane leaned against the doorframe, practically bouncing on her toes. "Dad, can you get the ladder out and put it in the ballroom? I want to start cleaning the chandelier today."
Jack blinked. "The chandelier? Jane, you're really going all out this year."
"I know." Her grin was incandescent. "But it needs it. When's the last time anyone actually cleaned it properly?"
"Your grandfather's last year, probably." Jack studied his daughter, noting the brightness in her eyes, the energy radiating from her. She looked more alive than she had in two years. "But polishing that thing will add at least another day to your already tight decorating schedule."
"The decorating schedule is nothing," Jane said, her voice light and certain, "compared to actually planning and pulling off the Winter Ball this year."
The words didn't register at first. Jack heard them, processed them individually, but their meaning refused to connect in his brain.
Then it hit him all at once.
"The Winter Ball?" He gasped, sitting forward so fast the chair creaked. "Jane, that's..."
He trailed off, staring at his daughter as if she'd suddenly started speaking another language. The Winter Ball. The event they hadn't hosted in ten years. The tradition that had died with his father and stayed dead because none of them had the heart or energy to resurrect it.
Jane was still grinning, practically glowing with excitement and determination.
