Page 21 of The Holiday Clause

The wind picked up, and the scent of patchouli oil wafted from Bodhi’s clothes. “I’ll try. But first, I should see to the elders.” The elders were what Bodhi called the cats.

“Sounds good.”

Wren’s father scooped the mangy tabby with one ear off the hood of the truck. “Come on, Nog.” As he passed Greyson, he used the cat’s paw to wave. “You know, a cat who naps in sunlight knows more about life than a man who checks his phone.”

Greyson lifted his eyes from the screen, where he was waiting for the weather app to load. Accumulation had dropped from eight inches to six, but who knew how up-to-date that report was? The satellites hit Hideaway Harbor on sporadic waves, so their headlines weren’t always current.

As soon as Bodhi disappeared down the gravel path, Wren appeared. Like her father, she only wore sandals. At least she had the sense to throw on a sweater. “You told me to wait and then never came back.”

He used a rag to oil down the now sharp edge of the shovel. “I didn’t tell you to wait. I told you to stay.”

“Ah, this must be why I flunked collie training.”

He met her dry stare. “Smartass.”

She lifted the canister of mineral oil and read the label. “Thanks for taking care of my shovels. I never would have thought to sharpen them or even known how.”

He meant to say welcome, but only a grunt of acknowledgment escaped.

When her hand rested on his arm, he paused but didn’t take his gaze off the blade. “Greyson, you can talk to me. I know what Magnus did this morning.”

“I’ve got nothing to say about that.”

Her touch fell away. “Are you upset about what he plans to do with the company?”

He shrugged and continued oiling the metal. “His company, his choice.”

“You have a right to be angry. He promised Hawthorne Fishery to you guys since you were children.”

“Well, he changed his mind.”

There was a time Greyson thought he would follow in his father’s footsteps. He loved fishing and being out at sea, but it had been decades since his father set foot on one of their boats. Crews managed everything, and with so many vessels in the fleet and captains handling the details of each expedition, his father hadn’t been on a boat in years.

Being the CEO of a billion-dollar fishery had very little to do with actual fishing. Greyson liked being out at sea but CEOs rarely saw the coastline. They were too busy trapped inside corner offices looking at numbers. He had no interest in a life like that.

“Do you really think he’s going to sell it off?”

“Magnus doesn’t make empty threats.”

“What about Soren and Logan?”

“What about them? You gonna marry them?”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He shrugged again. “If they want to keep the company, they need to find a wife.”

“You all act like I’m the only single woman in town.”

He finished with the shovels and turned to lean against the truck. “You’re not at all tempted? You’d be set for life.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t insult me. You know money doesn’t motivate me like it does others.”

“Money’s a necessary evil. It’s freedom.”

“Says the reclusive billionaire living off the land in the woods.”

He chuckled. Money didn’t motivate him either, but he did respect all that it could achieve. Speaking of which... “The studio looks good all finished.”