Page 31 of A Family Affair: The Plan
Why hadn’t Kent bothered to contact Hope to let her know he was coming? Why was he here? She bet he’d hatched another plan and hadn’t bothered to tell anyone—not even Martin. “Does Martin know you’re here?”
“Of course he does. Martin knows everything.” The smile she once thought captivating now appeared false and manufactured.What exactly did he mean?Hope turned to Sam, touched his arm. “We should go inside. I don’t want to keep Mimi waiting any longer than necessary.”
In the short time Hope had known Mimi Pendergrass, she should have realized the woman would not admit a guest without offering food and a welcome, no matter the time or the situation. She also should have realized that while Mimi mightappearwelcoming and gracious, she was no fool. That became apparent twenty minutes later when they were all sitting in the “parlor”, a tray of cheese and crackers on the table along with a plate of banana bread, cut in perfect slices. While Mimi fixed Kent’s scotch, she dropped casual questions likeWhat did you think of my daughter’s bed-and-breakfast? Did you meet Oliver? Who else did you meet?Kent’s answers were precise, calculated, with just the right amount of inflection to suggest interest in the aforementioned parties. Butdidhe care? Did he believe he’d found the right prototype in Reunion Gap for the bed-and-breakfast expansion? Hard to tell and he wasn’t sharing much other than simple answers that could be interpreted in several ways.
When Mimi handed Sam and Hope a beer, Kent raised a brow. “Beer?” A tilt of his head, a curious, “Interesting.”
Hope shrugged, took a sip, straight from the bottle which she knew would aggravate him. “I still drink wine, but beer does have a certain attractiveness to it. Cool, refreshing, pairs well with pizza and wings.” She could have said “pairs well with chateaubriand” and he still would have made a “disgusting” and “not in his lifetime” face.
“I see. Have you developed any otherinterestssince you’ve been here?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but Sam offered an answer. “I’d say she admits to what she really likes instead of what sheshouldlike. It’s very freeing once you realize you’ve been trapped in an existence you don’t recognize.” He took a healthy swallow from his bottle, eyes on Hope’s ex. “Once you find that freedom, you don’t ever want to go back because it’s not worth the cost.”
Kent lifted his glass, saluted Sam. “I wouldn’t be so sure Hope hasn’tadaptedto her environment as opposed to choosing something she loves. She’s very good at it. I’ve seen her at black-tie-affairs and in boardrooms. Highly adaptable. Almost chameleon-like.” His words smothered her. “Remember the event in Arlington? You won them over before the entrées arrived.”
Yes, she did remember that dinner, and while she’d been exhilarated over how she’d garnered their support and the subsequent business, the way she’d stretched who she was made her queasy. The over-the-top compliments, the laughter, the teasing attitude…it did not feel honest or authentic. “That was a different time.” Back then she’d believed it was what she had to do, what shewantedto do to achieve success—and yet it had left her empty.
“Maybe.” Kent nodded, sipped his scotch. “Or maybe not.”
As he sipped his way through another scotch, Kent boasted about the deals he’d made, including the dollar amounts andcut-throat methods he’d used to close those deals.It’s all about getting that deal, he’d said, tossing out more examples of his superior abilities. How had she found that annoying smugness attractive? Foundhimattractive?
Mimi nodded and asked a few polite questions while Sam just stared, jaw set, lips pulled into a frown, letting everyone know he didn’t like anything about Kent. She hadn’t come right out and told Sam that Kent was her ex, the one who’d betrayed her, but a short time into the conversation, only a fool wouldn’t know. The insinuations, the references to them as a couple, and the way his gaze lingered on her made it very obvious that Kent Barclay had been more than a business associate.
If Sam would only look at her, give her some sign that Kent’s appearance in Magdalena didn’t change anything between them...but he didn’t. In fact, he acted as though she were merely a visitor who’d come to do a job. Nothing personal, certainly nothing tied to him. She’d spent most of her life protecting her heart, sharing only so much, never all-in. Until Sam. He was different.He’dbeen worth trusting, worth showing who she really was and what she wanted, and she’d believed he felt the same way. But the stone-cold expression told her he’d shut down.
She had to talk to him alone, tell him how sorry she was that Kent had shown up and then explain the rest—Whatever Kent and I shared is over. Now, it’s all business.
“Kent, how long will you be staying?”
Mimi Pendergrass’s words swirled through the sitting room, landed on top of Hope. All she cared about was when he was leaving. A shrug, a casual glance Hope’s way, and then, “That depends.” Another shrug, another glance at her. “Hope and I will work together and develop a plan for our boss. It could take a few days. We’ll see.” His smile settled on her, his voice turned husky. “She’s very thorough so I don’t expect it will take long.”
Why was he acting as though she wanted him in Magdalena,helpingher? What was he up to now? “I still don’t understand why you’re here. I’ve been in touch with Martin, and I don’t need your help.” Why was hereallyhere…unless…? Of course! The answer pinged her brain seconds after she spoke. He’d been unsuccessful with his town and wanted to take overhers. “So, what happened in Reunion Gap? Did you not get Daniel Reese to sign your bowl?”
A splash of red covered his cheeks, telling her that didn’t go as planned. “The guy blew me off. Said I could talk to his business manager if I had questions about his pieces. Talk about surly.” An eye roll, a big sigh. “So, his wife’s pregnant? I only asked her a few questions, and it’s not like she’s the only person in the world who’s ever had a kid.”
Oh, that comment did not sit well with Mimi or Sam. Hope clutched her beer. “Did you barrel in and try to sell the town on the idea of becoming everybody’s best friend, ask for an introduction to Daniel Reese?” Hope glared at him, made sure she did not hide her annoyance.
Kent leaned back, ignored her comment. “Business is business, whether there’s a pregnancy involved or not. Apparently, the guy didn’t agree because the whole town shut down. I couldn’t find outanything, not who visited or where they came from, definitely not the ones who moved there. There are a lot of high rollers, but they all gave me the stink eye and nobody would talk.”
Mimi tilted her head, tapped a finger against her chin. “Not even my daughter?”
There was no way he could hide his irritation. “Especiallynot your daughter. The blueberry muffins I enjoyed every morning dwindled… No more chocolate chip cookies… No cherry pie…No conversationbeyond the niceties. Very businesslike and very obvious she no longer welcomed me there. When I flat outasked her why the cold shoulder, she told me people deserved to be treated with respect and were more than dollar signs. And then her boyfriend, the hippie dude? I visited his record store a few times, bought some cool stuff. Once he heard about what happened? He told me I might as well leave becausenobodywas doling out information.”
Kent dragged a hand through his perfect hair, confusion smothering his face. “How do people do business there? Why would they want to…? There’s no way I could recommend modeling a small-town bed-and-breakfast or small-town community based on what I experienced there. All I saw were closed-minded skeptics who weren’t willing to share anything.”
“Sounds like they didn’t want you there.”
Hope darted a glance at Sam, waited for him to say more. He hadn’t spoken in what seemed like an hour.
Kent sipped his scotch, eyed Sam. “Hope and I live in Alexandria. Have you ever lived in the city? Ever experienced that life?”
The sharpness in his tone said he doubted it and was setting Sam up for an attack. “Kent, I don’t think that’s relevant and?—”
“Actually, I have.” Sam toyed with his beer bottle, said in a casual voice, “More years than I care to admit. Chicago was my home but it never felt like home. The people never felt like real friends. The money didn’t make a difference in my life either…not in a good way.”
The laugh said Kent didn’t believe him. “Moneyalwaysmakes a difference and who doesn’t love Chicago? The food, the entertainment, the people?”
“I didn’t. And from what I heard, neither did Jameson Price. Did you meet him? He owns the Oak Table in Reunion Gap, but he used to own the Oak Bench in Chicago.”
