Page 28 of The Legend of Lovers Hollow

I rinse the razor and lift it back to my cheek. “We can’t. Even if we actually decided to sell the company, it won’t happen overnight. It could take a few years. We’d need to talk to Mom about her shares before anything else. Then there’s dealing with the board, finding a buyer. If we decide to break it up to sell off instead, it would take even longer, although it would be worth more money. There’s so much red tape and legalities. We’d also need to have the lawyers go back over the terms of your dad’s will, which honestly may have to happen even before we talk to Mom.”

“So?” Warren says.

“This place doesn’t have that kind of time.” I finish shaving and rinse my face, patting it dry with a soft hand towel.

He frowns. “How bad is it?”

“Bad.” I sigh and head back into the bedroom, Warren following behind. “I’ve only got a rough picture at the moment. That’s why I went back home to organise things so I can spend longer here without interruption. There are years of accounts to go through, and it’s all a mess. Creditors are banging down the door, they’re close to foreclosing and putting it to auction if we can’t turn it around soon. Even though you and I are both pouring our own money into it, this place is a money pit. There’s so much that needs doing.”

I shake my head, a sour feeling sitting in my gut as I reach for the clean pair of boxers and slide them up my legs, tossing the damp towel to the floor.

“I’ll help while I’m here,” Warren says. “I’m sure between us we can find a way to keep it afloat.”

“I don’t know,” I mumble, pulling the rest of his clothes on.

“Don’t know what?” he asks gently.

I sit on the bed to pull my socks and shoes on. “I don’t know if I can do it, Warren.” I drop my feet to the floor and look at him. “There’s so much riding on me being able to find a way to save the hotel. This is Ellis’ home, not to mention all the others who live here too.” And I wouldn’t be mentioningallthe others. “What if… what if I can’t do it?”

Warren settles down beside me. “You’ve always been such a worrier. We’ve got this, Morgs. There’s nothing you and I can’t do together. I’ve got your back, like always.” He smirks and nods towards my neck. “And I’m guessing Ellis has got other parts of you.”

“Shut up.” I flush, raising my fingers to the hickey Ellis gifted me with last night.

“Come on.” Warren stands. “I need some proper food, not that overnight shit they serve in-flight. Let’s go downstairs so I can meet more of your merry band of staff.”

I shift off the bed and pick up my towel, depositing it in the laundry hamper so we don’t upset John the Maid. We exit his room, and he locks up behind him, tucking the key in his pants pocket.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw a key for a hotel room. I’m so used to the standard key card system. Kinda cute though.”

We head down the corridor and, as we round the corner, a familiar person comes into sight.

My mouth falls open.

7

Grandfather ambles towards us, still wearing his customary shirt and sweater vest, and his socks, sock suspenders, and dress shoes. However, now covering his bottom half is a white wrap decorated with huge shockingly pink tropical flowers. The skirt, or whatever it is, winds around his waist and ties at the hip. It’s edged in a ruffle of material in the same design, and when he walks, one pale, skinny leg is revealed with each step.

“What on earth is that?” I exclaim as we reach him, my gaze dipping down to stare at the frilly material wrapped around him.

“It’s a sarong,” he answers matter-of-factly. He does a squat, which makes the material part to reveal one of his knobbly knees. “Marvellous.”

“Uh, you are wearing underpants, aren’t you?” I ask suspiciously.

“Of course I am,” he says with affront. “How uncivilised do you think I am?” He does another squat. “But it is rather comfortable. Lets everything hang free.”

“Oh god.” I briefly close my eyes and shake my head. Deciding not to comment further, I turn to my brother, who is watching with fascinated amusement. “Warren, this is my grandfather, Cedric Ashton-Drake. Grandfather, this is my younger brother, Warren.”

Grandfather’s eyes slide over my brother as he studies him. “You look like your mother.”

Warren holds out his hand, which Grandfather shakes. “I’m so happy to meet you properly, Pops.” Then he eyes the sarong with barely concealed delight. “Love the ruffles.”

He huffs, the corners of his thin lips twitching, before he turns to me and his eyes narrow. “A little birdie tells me you’ve been playing dress-up in the upstairs attic.”

“Oh god.”

Grandfather turns to my brother. “Doesn’t surprise me. He was always doing that as a child. He loved the old ballgowns and ladies’ hats.”

“Please stop.”