Page 13 of The Wexley Inn
“That’s why I’m here. Ever since you mentioned you’d landed the inn renovation, I was curious to see the inside.” She looked over the building. “It’s spectacular, even in its current condition. Tell me again about the new owner.”
Thomas hesitated, unsure how to navigate this unexpected complication. “Her name is Isabella Montgomery. She retired from the hotel industry, and she wants to restore the inn and use it as a functioning business.” He’d already told her this on the phone, but Emma was a curious person. Actually, she should’ve been a detective in one of those dark rooms with a single light hanging above a table.
Something in his tone must have alerted Emma. She studied him with narrowed eyes. “What are you not telling me?”
Before Thomas could respond, the front door opened and Isabella emerged. There was a moment of silent assessment between the two women from different chapters of his life.
“You must be Emma,” Isabella said, extending her hand. “I’m Isabella Montgomery. Your father’s doing a great job assessing the renovation needs here.”
Emma shook her hand, her expression politely neutral. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Montgomery. The inn is a big project to take on.”
“Please, call me Isabella. And yes, it is. That’s what makes it so exciting.” She looked between Thomas and Emma. “I’m going to leave you two to catch up, but Thomas, if you need me, I’ll be reviewing the upstairs floor plans.”
As Isabella disappeared back into the house, Emma turned to her father with a raised eyebrow. “So that’s the new owner you’ve been so vague about when we talk.”
Thomas sighed. “Let’s take a walk around the grounds. I need to check the exterior drainage anyway.”
As they circled the property, Thomas explained all the technical aspects of the renovation and pointed out architectural features. Emma listened, but he could sense her waiting for the information he was avoiding.
“Dad,” she finally said, stopping beneath one of the old oaks. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something important about this Isabella that you’re not telling me?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Isabella and I… well, we knew each other a long time ago, before I met your mother.”
“Knew each other,” she repeated.
“As in we were in college together,” he admitted. “It was serious.”
“How serious?”
“Very.” He looked away, focusing on the marsh in the distance. “She was the first person I ever loved.”
Emma was silent for a moment. “And now she’s back, hiring you for a major project? That’s quite a coincidence.”
“No, it wasn’t planned, at least not on my part. And she had no idea I was still on the island when she bought the inn.” He turned back to his daughter. “Look, it’s strictly professional between us now. It’s been thirty years, Emma. We’re different people.”
“Well, maybe so,” she said, “but I’ve never heard you mention her before. Not even once in all these years.”
“Well, some chapters of life are better left closed.”
“And yet here she is, reopening that chapter, whether you wanted it or not.” She had a protective worry on her face. “What happened between you two? Why did it end?”
He hesitated. He’d never discussed the circumstances of his breakup with Isabella, not even with Sarah during their marriage. It was a private pain, a choice he made that changed the course of his life.
“It’s complicated, Emma. I made a difficult decision that hurt her deeply.” He met his daughter’s eyes. “But she’s my client now, and I’m going to give this project my best work, regardless of our history.”
She studied his face, clearly sensing there was something more to the story, but she knew him well enough to recognize he wouldn’t be pushed further.
“Just be careful, Dad,” she said. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
He smiled slightly. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line? I’m the parent here.”
“And I’m the only one of us who inherited Mom’s common sense,” she said. “Speaking of which, I should probably meet this Isabella properly, since you’re going to be working with her for months.”
Before he could object, she started striding back toward the inn. He hurried to catch up, wondering how this unexpected collision of past and present would unfold.
They found Isabella in the main parlor, discussing molding restoration with Eliza. She looked up, her professional smile firmly in place.
“Emma wanted a proper tour,” Thomas explained. “She has a great eye for design and might have some insights to offer.”
