Page 8 of The Seascape Between Us (The Men of Saltwater Cove #4)

Chapter Five

Daniel

I woke with a dull headache—not the blinding pain of a migraine, thankfully—but the kind of steady ache I associated with hangovers and sleepless nights. The kind of ache that, once it took hold, didn’t let go no matter how many ibuprofens I popped.

After spending the night tossing and turning in my bed, my spinning thoughts refusing to settle and let me sleep, I really shouldn’t have been surprised by the headache or the slow, murky feeling clinging to me like a second skin.

The last time I’d checked my phone, it had been close to four—two hours before my alarm went off.

Though it had been closer to seven before I’d dragged my sleep-muddled ass out of bed and into the shower.

Now, dressed and ready for the day, I felt slightly more human, even if the same thoughts plaguing me for most of the night were still playing through my head, like a video caught on a loop. Just like last night, every time I closed my eyes, Grey’s image swam before me.

I still couldn’t believe I’d admitted to him I was living here.

Though, given his plans for the Seascape, it was just a matter of time before he found out, anyway.

People talked, after all, and Alistair was living with Grey’s colleague…

Employee?… Friend? Whatever Finn was to him.

I was surprised Grey hadn’t known from the start that I was living here after having to give up Ramona’s house.

At least he hadn’t used it as another thing to dig at me with.

I wasn’t sure I could have gritted my teeth and put up with his sharp remarks.

Letting go of that house had been hard, even knowing it would provide Ramona with the care she needed.

When my mother and Ramona’s relationship morphed from employer and employee to friends to partners, moving from the hotel into Ramona’s house felt like I had a home for the first time since my mother left my father.

We were a family, and the years we had there together were good—for a few years, anyway.

I drew a deep breath and shoved away the dark thoughts before pulling open the door and stepping out onto the open walkway running the length of the hotel.

Despite the early hour, the sun was already bright and hot, making me wince.

The salt-scented wind off the sea gave little relief.

I started for the hotel lobby, passing Grey’s room, but refusing to look at his closed door or wide window with the drapes pulled tight.

He was probably still sleeping soundly and had been since he’d gone inside last night. Why wouldn’t he be, after all? He wasn’t losing his only source of income, his home. He didn’t have to tell his employees they were very likely going to lose their jobs.

The invisible band around my skull squeezed tighter.

When I reached the door inside, I hesitated just a moment.

Here, after all, was the real source of my sleepless night.

Admitting I lived at the hotel in one of the rooms wasn’t great, and worrying about losing the hotel had been a frequent cause of sleepless nights for years, but last night’s ceiling stare-down had been brought to me by the memory of Grey stumbling on the stairs and me catching him to keep him from landing face-first.

It had been seventeen years since I touched him, since he’d been close enough to feel his solid frame flush with mine. Worse still, the heat from his body seeping through his clothes had felt so energizing. Something low inside me pulled tight, leaving me with an ache gripping my insides.

Back in my room, I had almost felt the imprint of his body against mine. Hell, the spice, sandalwood scent of his cologne had clung to me after, no doubt another contributing factor to my sleepless night.

I sincerely hoped that I could avoid him until he checked out and went back to his life in Portland.

Although, after he'd demanded I serve him dinner last night, I didn’t think I’d be that lucky.

God, he’d probably ask me to serve him breakfast. At least he’d be gone in a few hours—he had no reason to stay, after all—and I could go back to living my life and running my hotel…

for now. How long before he listed my business for sale?

How long until someone swooped in and bought my hotel out from under me?

I did my best to ignore the flutter of panic at my throat, the fine sheen of cold sweat forming on my skin.

What the hell would I do once this place was gone?

I would have no job, no home. I had no education past high school.

Running a hotel is all I had ever done, but I doubted bigger and more successful hotels would be lining up to hire me after running my own hotel into the ground.

Inside, I crossed the lobby into the restaurant and helped myself to a cup of coffee. Hopefully, between the caffeine and ibuprofens, it would take the edge off the headache, and I’d stop feeling so damn sorry for myself.

I hated to think about what the new owners might do to my hotel. Would they tear down the beautiful, curved walls and rich teak paneling to replace it with a box-shaped building where everything is painted beige? My stomach churned at the thought.

I had to figure out a way to stop Grey. Speaking to a lawyer came to mind. I should probably find out if there was a way to shut Grey down or even delay him, but who was I kidding? I couldn’t afford that.

Coffee in hand, I made my way to my office.

Carter was behind the desk, phone receiver pinned between his ear and shoulder, while he used both hands to type into the computer.

When his gaze landed on me, his eyes widened meaningfully as if he was trying desperately to communicate something while being trapped speaking to a guest.

I frowned, but inevitably eased past him. He could tell me whatever he needed to once he was off the phone. I pushed open my office door and froze.

Grey sat behind my computer, frowning down at the screen. The past year’s financials were spread out over the desk— my desk. Having heard the door open, he looked up from the computer and smirked. “You look like shit. Didn’t you sleep?”

His assessment of my physical appearance didn’t even offend me. After all, he wasn’t wrong. Apparently, spending time with the ex I’d never really gotten over, both hating and loving every moment of it, had a negative impact on my sleep. Who would have guessed? “What are you doing in here?”

“I couldn’t sleep, either.” He turned back to the computer screen. “And when I can’t sleep, I work.”

“This is my office,” I reminded him, moving into the room. “You need to find somewhere else to work.”

“I prefer to think of it as our office, partner .” He didn’t look up from whatever he was doing on my computer, and he made no effort to move.

I ground my teeth until my jaw ached, but I wasn’t going to get dragged into some pissing contest. I was tired, irritable, and my head was still pounding.

As exhausted as I was, I didn’t sit. I refused to use the chair opposite my own desk as if I were a guest. Besides, maybe if I hovered next to him, he’d take the hint and get out.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” I asked.

Grey glanced up from the computer, then leaned back in the ancient chair, springs squeaking loudly in the quiet. His narrowed gaze snagged on mine. “I’ll tell you about my sleepless nights if you tell me about yours.”

I shot him my own wry smirk before taking a sip of coffee. “Something about being forced to sell my hotel and wondering what will happen to my employees keeps me up at night.”

“Congratulations!” Grey said with false brightness. “ Your sleepless nights are about to come to an end.”

I froze, coffee cup halfway to my mouth, refusing to let myself hope. “What do you mean?”

Grey’s hard smile stretched wider. “You won. I’m not going to sell the hotel.”

Rather than a sense of relief, apprehension unwound low inside me like a cold snake while I waited for the other shoe to drop. “Don’t fuck with me.”

He snorted. “Been there, done that.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” When I didn’t respond and just eyed him suspiciously, he let out a long sigh. “After dinner last night, I started to consider what it would take to turn this place around and whether it would be worth it. I think I can make it work. I’m not going to sell.”

The relief I’d been holding at bay swept through me, nearly knocking me off my feet, and I finally sank into the chair opposite my desk. “Grey, thank you. What you’re doing—”

He held up his hand, cutting me off. “Don’t think for one second I did this for you.

This is a business decision, and whatever history we had doesn’t factor into what’s happening at the hotel.

I can put the past behind me to get this place profitable, but outside of this hotel, we’re nothing to each other—not friends, not acquaintances, nothing . ”

Over the years, I’d forgotten how cutting Grey could be with his words. The reminder first thing in the morning, with a pounding headache and before I’d finished my first cup of coffee, wasn’t great, especially after tossing and turning all night, thinking about how it felt to touch him again.

“Got it.” My voice scraped like a rusty hinge, and I had to clear my throat before saying more. “So, what do you need from me?”

“The plan is to update the rooms, bring them into the current century—”

“I think guests like the mid-century feel,” I told him, doing my best to ignore the irritation prickling along the back of my neck. He really was planning to fill the rooms with generic furniture and paint everything beige. “We’re not like every other hotel in the area.”

He glared. “I think guests want to stay in rooms that don’t feel like they were furnished with thrift store finds, and when was the last time the bathrooms were updated.”

That was an easy question to answer. Never, at least not all at once and with any plan for uniformity. “I’ve replaced pieces over the years when I had to.”

“Are you telling me those bathrooms date back to the fifties?”

“Sixties,” I corrected, not that he was listening.

“I don’t know why I’m asking.” His nose wrinkled with disgust. “I saw the bathroom in my room.”

“It was clean.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, thank god for that.”

I almost told him that the shower and tub insert had replaced the original ten years ago, but I doubted he’d be impressed.

“The roof needs to be replaced,” I admitted. “I was planning to do it after the summer season. I’ve patched anywhere that was leaking.” The leaks I knew about, anyway.

“I’ll have Finn come down for an inspection.

He did one last year, but I want to know exactly what I’m dealing with, so I’ll have a better idea of everything that needs to be done.

I want to plan for a grand re-opening, something flashy that’s going to show that the Seascape has been completely overhauled before we’re too far into the summer season. ”

“We’re booked pretty solid, starting the first week of July.”

“That only gives us six weeks.” Grey rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s going to be tight, but not impossible.”

“There’s no way in hell you can update thirty-four rooms in six weeks.”

“In my experience, you can accomplish anything if you throw enough money at it.”

I rolled my eyes. “No doubt.”

“We’re going to need to get started right away. We’ll have to reschedule any guests you have between now and the opening. I can have Cooper,” he gestured to the office door and, I assumed, the desk clerk beyond.

“Carter,” I corrected.

“Whatever, I’ll get him started on calling guests this morning. In the meantime, I want to run some numbers with my people.”

“I can put together the financial reports—”

“No need to worry your pretty little head with all those numbers. I have people for that.”

My grip on my coffee cup tightened. I was half-surprised it hadn’t shattered to dust in my hand. “So, what am I supposed to do?”

“I could use a coffee.” His dark eyes held mine, a cold and humorless smile stretching across his face. “I take it black.”

He turned back to my computer screen, and just like that, he'd dismissed me from my own office as if I were one of his lackeys. Though, for all intents and purposes, I supposedly was.

I stood and left my office, closing the door behind me, then leaned back on it and shut my eyes, doing my best to smother the anger humming beneath my skin like an electric charge.

Grey wasn’t selling the hotel, and I should be grateful.

He had money to invest and bring it back to its former glory.

Again, I should have been grateful. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made a deal with the devil himself all those years ago when I let Oliver buy into my hotel, and now the devil had come to collect his due.