Page 1 of The Inn Dilemma

Chapter One

Nova

The lion taunts me with his pretentious eyes as if he’s thinking, “I knew you’d be back to grovel.”

It’s been years since I’ve seen him, yet the foreboding feeling is as strong as ever. He is less imposing than Dad, but has the same intimidating glare. Tension wraps itself around my chest. It tightens into a vise grip the more my fingers curl around the brass ring in the lion’s teeth. After a second of deliberation, I thump it against the front door.

I take a step back and inhale the crisp September air. As I release my breath, I remind myself that no matter what happens, I will be okay. It will all work out at some point, at some time, in some way.

Seconds that may as well be hours pass before Dad answers the door. Shock flickers in his eyes, but then his mask of cool indifference blankets his features. The suit his strong frame once filled out hangs off him. He’s aged far more than I anticipated these last four years. His previously broad shoulders have shrunk, and his severeeyes don’t hold the same intensity with the new dark bags beneath them.

Kent Price looks sick.

My throat tightens, but I swallow down my shame and whisper, “Hi, Daddy.”

His nostrils flare and he looks at me as if I’m a stranger on his doorstep.

“Nova. What are you doing here?” Despite his frail appearance, his voice still commands respect.

Tears burn my eyes, but I hold them back like I’ve done for most of my twenty-three years. Kent Price sees crying as a sign of weakness.

“I’ve come home.” My voice cracks.

He scoffs. “If you think this is still your home, you are sorely mistaken.”

“But I’m your daughter.”

Dad’s lip curls in disgust. “I have no daughter.”

I stumble back as if he just struck me. A pathetic whimper leaks through my lips. I pinch them tighter together.

He will not see me cry. I will not cry.

“You ceased to exist when you ran off with that Frenchman.” He spits out the last word. Dad may have been right about Beau from the beginning, but I refuse to admit that to him now. Just like I’ve refused to admit to myself the similarities between the two men. They both had the same goal for me—to become their little trophy. Dad wanted me as his trophy daughter, Beau as his trophy girlfriend.

If it was anyone else, I could drop to my knees and beg my dad to forgive me. Tell him that he was right about Beau and I was an idiot for not listening to him. Most loving fathers would forgive, and we could movepast this huge mistake. But showing that vulnerability would only intensify my father’s disdain. Showing vulnerability would put me right where he wants me and I’d be back to square one.

Despite the anger I harbor for Dad, I need this first step toward healing.

My spine is stiff and my head is held high while my heart slowly crumbles inside my chest.

“I won’t waste anymore of your time,” I say, infusing my words with more confidence than I feel.

Something flickers in his gaze, and I pray that by some miracle there’s a crack in his cruel heart…but then he narrows his eyes and I know there’s not. He takes a step back into the house and slams the door in my face.

I swallow the lump in my throat, then turn on my heel and head toward town. A few cars pass me, slowing down as if trying to figure out why someone iswalkingon the side of the road coming out of the ‘ritzy’ part of town.

The skies are a mix of gray and black. Thunder rumbles in warning of an incoming storm, and I pull my cardigan tightly around me. It’s time I head back to Reese’s apartment. She’s been so kind to open her home to me and allow me to hide out while I worked up the courage to face Dad. I can’t say I’m surprised he didn’t welcome me home with open arms, but I expected a little more from my father. A little more of what? I don’t know. Sympathy? Understanding? Forgiveness? Love?

When I was a little girl, Dad told me I was the apple of his eye. I was naive enough to believe him. He had been prepping my brother Chris to take over the family business for as long as I could remember. But I was the one he spoiled. He bought me fancy dresses and prettyjewelry to match. As I got older, I realized his spoiling me wasn’t for my enjoyment but for his image. A big shot CEO couldn’t be photographed with anything less than the picture-perfect family.

“I have no daughter.”His words ring in my ears as I head into town. I want to cry. Ineedto cry. It would alleviate some of the pain in my chest. Some of the pressure that’s slowly suffocating me. But I can’t. I haven’t cried in years. Tears are a weakness.

I have at least half a mile left to push down the pain and slip on the façade that tells the outside world I’m okay.

The chill in the air seeps through my layers of clothing and settles inside my bones.

I finally reach Main Street, and I head to Mountain Auto Repair where my friend, Reese, works. Her apartment is also above the garage and where I’m temporarily living with her. Reese offered it to me when she found me loitering at the library. When in doubt, books have always given me guidance on where to pivot in life. That day was no exception.

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