“Can we just start with a week? I’ll let you know if I need to stay longer.”
Ben glanced up. “You don’t know how long you’ll be here?”
“I’m not sure when my business will be concluded.” And wasn’t that the truth? “One more thing. I’d like to pay in cash, if that’s all right.”
Ben’s eyebrows lifted. “We normally require a credit card on file in case there are damages.”
She couldn’t give him a credit card with her real last name on it, now could she? Her stomach twisted at the need for such deceit, but she pushed the uneasiness aside. “I’m happy to pay for a week at a time up-front, plus I can give you a deposit in case there are damages. Not that I plan to damage anything.”
He studied her for a moment, probably weighing whether she’d walk out if he refused. Finally, he nodded. “You’re not the first person to come to Walker Beach looking for anonymity. Two hundred should cover the deposit, which will be refunded when you check out as long as nothing’s damaged.”
“Sounds great.”
He took her cash then worked to check her in.
So far, except for his penetrating gazes and slightly bristly manner, he’d been all business—an admirable quality, actually, considering how often guys hit on Bella when she was doing the most mundane of tasks like grocery shopping or working out at the gym. But this was one instance where a chatty demeanor would have been helpful.
Because everything was riding on getting Ben to like her.
And people didn’t open up to those they didn’t like, so to succeed here, she needed to gain his trust. At least, that’s what Mom had said before she’d sent Bella off on this mission.
Hating herself more than a little and feeling as fake as a metal tree at Christmas, Bella cocked a hip and propped an arm on the desk. While Ben clicked around on the screen, she pointed to a framed photo a few inches away that showed a huge group of people smiling at the camera. “Is that your family?”
Not looking up, he nodded. “Yep. Family reunion last year.”
She peered closer and finally found Ben in the upper left corner, his arm slung around a tall blond girl with similar features. “Who’s that?”
He looked up with a frown and something like irritation in his eyes. “My sister, Ashley.”
What would it be like to have a real family—not just a mom who was more a boss than anything?
Maybe, at the end of all this, Bella would finally know.
Keep him talking. Right. “So, what’s there to do around here?”
A printer whirred to life behind Ben. He snagged some papers and turned, handing them to Bella along with a pen. “Tons. Of course, there’s surfing, kayaking, and other water sports. If you need any equipment or want to take a tour, my cousin Cameron manages a rental shop and could set up something for you. There’s also a lot of shopping downtown if antiques, art galleries, and specialty shops are your thing.”
She flourished her signature across the safety waiver and contract detailing the security deposit regulations. “Any good places to eat?”
“My personal favorites are Froggies Pizza and the Frosted Cake.”
Her stomach rumbled to life at the suggestions. The tiny pack of airplane peanuts she’d found at the bottom of her purse hardly sufficed for a meal, but that’s all she’d eaten since breakfast. “Those sound amazing.” She angled her head and pushed her lips into a grin that felt anything but natural. “Would you happen to be available to join me?”
Ben stiffened. “Can’t. The earthquake put me behind on everything.”
Great. The prickly owner clearly wanted nothing to do with her—except to take her money, of course. What now? “Rain check, maybe?”
“I’m really slammed.” He averted his eyes and slid a key card against the desk’s polished surface. “Your room is just upstairs and down the south hallway. Third door on the left. If you need anything, I’ll be in my office, which is just around the corner off the kitchen.”
Bella snatched the key card and tried for a casual tone. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
She strode toward the staircase, wincing at the tightened skin on her kneecaps. Maybe this was more like that first time riding a bike than she’d realized, with the hill too steep and Bella too bullheaded to see she shouldn’t attempt it.
But just like that day twenty years ago, she was going to keep dragging her bike all the way to the top. She was going to have to change her strategy, but she’d try again and again until she finally mastered it.
No matter her own reservations, she would get Ben Baker to agree to sell his inn to her mom. It didn’t matter that Mom had been trying for at least six months. Bella could accomplish what no one else could simply because she had more riding on this than anyone else.
Sure, Mom wanted the deal so she could finally build the resort she’d been dreaming of. The place would be a gold mine.
But Bella wanted something more than money. She and her mom had come from poverty, and poverty could find them again at any time. But a family—well, families were forever. And Bella wanted to know if she had one out there, somewhere.
So, bring on the hill because Bella Moody would do just about anything to find out who her father was and whether he’d been survived by any family when he’d died twenty-seven years ago.
Numbers were Ben Baker’s enemy.
Especially when they were red. Very, very red.
Ben scrubbed a hand across his face and leaned back in his office chair as the spreadsheet swam in front of him on the screen. Grandpa would roll over in his grave if he could see how badly Ben was botching his legacy.
His one saving grace would be the insurance money from the earthquake, which he hoped he would get an update on by Monday. He’d likely have to do most of the repairs himself—and maybe he’d snag his buddy Evan or a few of his cousins to help out—but that would leave extra money on the table to pay off some of his debts.
Like the mortgage he’d defaulted on three months ago.
But if the four cancellations that had just come in this afternoon and the numbers bleeding on the screen indicated what was to come, the Iridescent Inn was in dire trouble.
Ugh. He needed a break.
Easing away from the desk, Ben strode to his office door then into the hallway and up the stairs toward the lobby, where the world’s most comfortable couches awaited him. Maybe a little time stretched out on one of those bad boys would refresh him enough to come up with a plan.
But as he reached the top of the stairs and pivoted toward the pair of deep green couches ringing the stone fireplace against the south wall, Ben halted.
There sat the woman who had checked in only a few hours ago, a large pizza box on the scratched oak coffee table in front of her along with a stack of plates and napkins. She glanced up at his arrival. “Oh. Hi. I hope it’s OK I’m in here.”
Earlier she’d been all business in that skirt that had hugged her curvy lower half and heels that had looked painful to walk in. Now she looked much more relaxed—though somehow still classy—in black yoga pants and a flowy blue shirt that brought out the chocolate brown of her eyes.
The same eyes that had drawn him in earlier when he’d “rescued” her in the courtyard. Ben had imagined something mysterious and vulnerable in their depths. Probably he’d just whacked his head harder than he’d thought.