Love Redefined Read online

  “If you could just show me the existing property…” I repeated, doing my best not to enjoy the fresh clean smell of the air, tinged with pine and something earthy and verdant lingering beneath. I didn’t want to let my eyes wander the far horizon where smudges of mountain ridges pressed against the cerulean blue sky. Seriously, when was a sky ever this blue?

  Don’t get me wrong—I was taking it all in. That was my job. I was just trying to keep a professional distance from both the location and the guy trying to melt my clothes off with his sexy smile as he sold me on the place.

  “Right up here,” he said, waving a muscled arm at a two-story structure standing ahead of us, at the far end of the parking lot and across a small road. The Inn was nestled back away from the center of town, pressed up to the meadow on one side with massive trees soaring overhead at its back. I couldn’t help craning my neck to follow the huge dark red trunks upward as they towered above us, making the structure look small despite its significant size.

  “Wow,” I said, without meaning to speak aloud. “I’ve read about those, but I’ve never seen one. That’s one of the Sequoia trees, right?”

  Chance grinned again and followed my gaze until we were both standing, craning our heads upward to see the tops of the trees behind the Inn. “A couple of them, yeah,” he said, his voice lowering and taking on an almost reverent tone. “Those are part of the original Kings Grove of Giant Sequoias. The original grove continues across the highway there. A lot of it was actually cut down for lumber soon after they were discovered, but the biggest part of the grove is still there, about a half mile away.”

  He pointed back across the parking lot we’d come through, and I imagined what that might look like—dozens, maybe hundreds of these giant trees pressing together toward the sky. They were almost too big to be believed. Finn would love this, I thought.

  “Haven’t met a human yet who wasn’t a little bit humbled by the size and age of these trees. They’re magic,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  I squinted at him, and it occurred to me what a strange place this was, where a man like Chance Palmer would be waxing poetic about big trees. He was right though, there was something magic in their size, their constancy. I felt a strange rush of sadness for the ones that had been cut down. As charmed as I was by the trees, I was almost equally charmed by Chance Palmer, and I quickly realized his super power. Everyone had a super power. Finn and I had figured that out a long time ago, and now I couldn’t help looking for them when I met new people. Chance’s super power was certainty. He made our meeting feel like an unnecessary detail to get past, as if this was already a done deal. It was tempting to lean into that kind of confidence, to let him steer. But I wasn’t here to lose my head over trees or tall strong men with impressive super powers, and I cleared my throat, forcing myself back to the business at hand.

  “Okay,” I said, narrowing my gaze at the Inn and pulling out my notebook from inside my bag. “Owned by the Piper family for fifty years. Indoor plumbing and a major renovation in the seventies, another renovation in the nineties. Average rate of occupancy just under sixty percent. All that correct?”

  “Someone’s done her homework,” Chance said, nodding. “But the occupancy rate isn’t a good indicator of the popularity of Kings Grove. The issue is that during the summer months and early fall—now, for instance—the place is usually sold out. But in the winter, not many folks come around. We don’t have access to a downhill ski resort up here, and the Pipers weren’t interested in developing the place to cater to other kinds of winter sports that might attract people.”

  I followed Chance up the main steps of the Inn, which had a sprawling front porch looking out onto the meadow and offering a view through the village center and to the trees beyond. There were Adirondack chairs in groups and rocking chairs set up around the big space—most of which were occupied by folks who seemed to be simply enjoying the view and the mild weather.

  We stepped through the front doors into the lobby to find a soaring ceiling and a space decorated in what I could only call ‘eighties log cabin.’ Huge unfinished pine beams dominated the space, and the walls were covered with quilts that had a southwestern flavor, deer antlers, and framed prints of the big trees. The pine rafters and walls gave the whole place a yellow cast when combined with the sunlight pouring in through the high windows. While the decor was not to my taste, there was something appealing about the result. A huge stone fireplace sat against the far wall, and the reception desk stood off to one side.

  “Hello,” said a woman with dark hair pulled up into a bun and wire-rimmed glasses over small bright eyes.

  “Sandra Piper, meet Michaela Grayson from McLaren Resorts.”

  I shook hands with the woman. “Hello,” I said. “You’ve done a fabulous job with the place. Very rustic and comfortable.”

  “How’s Joe?” Chance asked her.

  The woman’s face slackened and her eyes dropped, but she regained herself quickly. “Doing a little better Chance, thanks.” Sandra looked at me. “Please make yourselves at home,” she said. “The corner suite upstairs is unoccupied if you’d like to take a look, and Chance knows his way around.”

  “Thanks,” Chance said. “Please give Joe my best.”

  She nodded and handed Chance a key card.

  We toured the big property, seeing more of the same. The room, while comfortable, didn’t scream luxury resort, and the property’s kitchen was too small to service the hotel at its current size. There was a lot of work to be done here. That said, the potential for establishing a winter sports destination was something I thought might be interesting. I had research to do.

  It was nearly lunchtime when we finished walking the full extent of the Inn, investigating every storage closet and landscaping shed, and covering the current personnel load. We walked back out to the expansive front porch and paused at the railing, looking out at the meadow.

  “What do you think, Michaela?” Chance was looking at me expectantly, turned toward me with one hand resting on the railing.

  I’d love to say I’d settled into his commanding presence during our time together, but I’d be lying. I was painfully aware of him. Of his broad strong chest, of the way his pulse beat in his throat just above the collar of his fitted golf shirt, of the way his tanned skin covered muscled and sinewed forearms that looked capable and imposing. I’d become aware of his scent, too—a mix of something clean and spicy, almost as heady as the scent of the mountain air I’d been breathing all morning. It was all a bit overwhelming, and I had to struggle to remind myself I was not actually on vacation with a muscled tour guide at my beck and call. It was a nice fantasy, though.

  “I think I need to get back down to the valley and attend to some other matters.” I stuffed my notebook back into my bag and tried to pretend I was eager to leave this place.

  “Lunch first?” he suggested.

  “I really should go,” I said, though I didn’t feel committed to my statement, and Chance clearly noticed.

  “I’ll treat you to the finest diner food this side of the highway,” he said, that superpower certainty, winning me over. He gently took my elbow and guided me up to the front door of a long low building with the words Kings Grove Diner hanging on the sign over our heads. “We can talk about next steps.”

  I sighed. I was hungry. It wouldn’t hurt to eat quickly before driving back to get Finn. “Just a quick bite,” I said. “And I really can’t tell you much until I’ve spoken with my boss.”

  “Right,” Chance said, ushering me into the charming restaurant.

  For a diner, it was very nice. It had all the booths and the long counter you’d expect, but the space felt modern and clean, and wasn’t trying to cling to any kind of 1950s diner culture. We were greeted by a woman with messy gray hair piled on her head at the podium, and she literally rolled her eyes at my escort.

  “Palmer,” she said, sounding as if she’d had more than enough of him, despite us having just walked
through the door. Then her eyes fell on me, and I prepared to be greeted similarly, but her face lightened and she smiled. “Oh, hello,” she said, her voice lighter and friendly. “Welcome to the Kings Grove Diner.”

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Sorry.” She leaned her head in conspiratorially. “This one’s in here every day, and I swear his coffee and bear claw habit is going to bankrupt me, especially because my waitresses seem partial to his irritating grin.”

  The grin in question was aimed at this woman now, and she rolled her eyes again, but I saw a pink blush creeping up her neck. “Take a seat wherever you like,” she said.

  “That’s Adele,” Chance told me as he led me to a far booth in front of the window. “She’s harmless. And this is the best seat in the house.”

  I settled myself and gazed out the window. Though the view was actually mostly parking lot, it was made significantly more urbane by the imposing forms of the Giant Sequoias standing near the buildings across the way, and the bright blue sky that seemed to reach down and drape itself over everything.

  “So,” Chance said, once we’d had a look at the menu and placed our order with the young waiter. “What do you think? I mean, you’ve really only seen the center of town. You’ll have to come back with boots and shorts so we can hike the ridge and go see Kings Grove for real, and I’ll drive you around the village.”

  “Mr. Palmer.” I gave him a level look. Part of me was bubbling with excitement, listening to this handsome man talk about all the things “we” would have to do as if we were embarking on a relationship that involved something more than luxury properties and enormous amounts of investment capital. I needed to get us both on the right track. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back up for a leisure trip. This is about risk, and I don’t know if I can convince McLaren that Kings Grove is a risk that will pay off.”

  The man across from me cocked his head to the side, dark hair falling onto his forehead as he did so, and his eyes taking on a thoughtful look but certainly not conceding the point. “Fair enough,” he said. “So if it’s not a hike through the backcountry you need, what do you think you do need to convince McLaren?”

  I spread my hands on the table top. “This has been a nice distraction from my usual day to day, Mr. Palmer—”

  “Chance, please.”

  “Okay, Chance. It’s been fun seeing the big trees. I’m just not sure this place screams ‘luxury resort.’ I mean,” I looked around for a clear example of what I was trying to articulate. “Look over there.” I nodded out the window toward the parking lot at a couple of older men wearing white socks pulled up high on their legs with their sandals strapped tightly over them. “The McLaren set is not typically the sock-and-sandal wearing type.”

  Chance was nodding slowly. “So you’re judging Kings Grove on the poor fashion sense of a couple old timers?” He sounded half amused and half annoyed. “This isn’t a Prada and Laboutin town, that’s for sure.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. This place is beautiful. It just feels more rustic cabin than luxury resort.”

  He sighed, and I could hear his frustration in the sound. “That’s because right now, that’s what it is. I’d like to change that—with McLaren’s help. The Prada set isn’t the only one with money to spend on experiences, you know.”

  Our food came, and I sat back into the booth, thinking about Chance’s words and enjoying the peaceful hum of the place and the company for a few quiet moments as we both ate. In the end, it came down to simple fear. I needed a sure thing. I was afraid to gamble on this because it could mean my job. And that could mean losing the security I’d found for Finn. That was just too big of a risk.

  “Will you think about it at least?” Chance finally asked.

  “I’ll be honest,” I told him, feeling like I owed him something. “Even if there was a chance a McLaren resort could succeed here, it’s not a guarantee. And the next deal I make kind of has to be a sure thing.”

  His face fell and for a split second, this tall strapping man looked like a disappointed little boy before he recovered the superhero smile, which I was coming to see as his trademark. “There are lots of examples of luxury resorts in rustic locations,” he said, still not giving up. “And an international airport is only two hours out. This could be the next Aspen or Vail.”

  “Right, but most of those places have some kind of draw—a ski resort, an ancient treasure, an entire community devoted to wine or yoga, or—”

  “None of them have the Giant Sequoia.”

  “I think it takes more than a few oversized conifers to—” My phone began ringing in my bag, and I winced and lifted a finger to Chance as I dug it out with my other hand. The number on the screen showed Finn’s school, and my heart picked up a faster rhythm. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Grayson, it’s Tiffany at Heritage.” Tiffany’s super power was her ability to freak me out just by saying her name on the phone. It was never good news.

  “Is everything okay? Is Finn all right?” I was holding the phone in a vice grip, thinking about how far away I was from my son right now.

  “He’s fine, ma’am. A little upset, maybe. His father stopped by just now, and—”

  “Is he still there?” I was already standing, digging out my keys. I hadn’t seen Jeff since he’d gotten out, and I didn’t think showing up at Finn’s school was the best way for him to re-enter our lives.

  “He approached Finn out on the playground, and one of the staff intercepted him,” she said. “He’s gone now and Finn is with the nurse.” I cringed, wondering if a stable, sober man would approach a child who barely knows him like that and came up with doubt. I wanted Jeff to be healthy, maybe to be a part of Finn’s life—it would make my own life easier if I could trust him. But it didn’t sound like six years of prison had made him any more practical or wise.

  Chance had stood and was watching me with concern in his gray-blue eyes. I faced him and lowered the phone, putting my hand over the microphone. “I’m sorry, Chance. I have to go right now. It’s an emergency.”

  “Of course,” he said. He waved a hand over the table, “Don’t worry about it. This was my treat anyway. Just drive carefully.”

  “I will,” I told him, and turned with the phone back at my ear. “Tiffany, I’m over an hour away, but I’m coming now. Can you keep Finn there, please? With the nurse? I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  “He can probably return to class, Mrs. Grayson, he’s calmed down. I just wanted to let you know—”

  “I’d feel better if you just kept him in the office, please. Where you have an eye on him.” I wouldn’t put anything past Jeff, and I wasn’t going to risk another run-in.

  “Okay, we’ll do that. See you soon.”

  I was in my car as I ended the call, and looked up as I pulled out of the parking lot to see the tall masculine form of Chance Palmer standing on the sidewalk, huge trees brushing the sky on either side of him. Kings Grove really was a nice place. It just didn’t feel like a sure thing for McLaren Resorts. Despite Chance Palmer’s certainty, I was pretty sure of that. And I needed a sure thing.

  Chapter 3

  Chance

  “What’s wrong, poopy pants?” Sam stuck his head around the frame of the office door, peering in with mock concern on his face.

  “The McLaren deal. Died before it even got started.” I hated losing, and Michaela Grayson really hadn’t even given me a chance to pitch her properly.

  Sam stepped into my office and I leaned back in my desk chair, forcing a long groan from the springs that was almost as morose as I was feeling. “It’s just business, Chance.” My brother shrugged irritatingly, and I thought—not for the first time—the new and improved Sam Palmer was annoyingly upbeat since Miranda George had accepted his proposal last summer.

  “Well, in case you forgot, ‘just business’ is how we afford our easy lifestyles up here, little bro. And I’m the one who’s supposed to be bringing it in.”

  Sam c
rossed his arms and sighed. “We’ve got plenty of work in the next year, Chance. One deal won’t kill us.”

  “It was a big one.” I could feel myself pouting and I knew I shouldn’t let the loss of the McLaren Resort bother me so much, but it did and I couldn’t figure out exactly why. I suspected it had something to do with the tall leggy brunette who represented the deal. She’d been the first woman I’d met in a long time who seemed too preoccupied to be charmed. I realized I’d been using charm in place of strategy for a while. I didn’t like admitting failure, but this was clearly not a win.

  “So don’t give up so easily,” Sam said. “The guy clearly just needs another dose of your—”

  “Wasn’t a guy,” I interrupted.

  “Mike, right?”

  “Mike’s a girl. A woman.”

  Sam made a face I recognized from childhood—the one that preceded a statement like, “you’re a stupid head” usually. “Mike is a guy’s name, loser.”

  “And Michaela is a woman’s name.” I stood and pushed the chair back behind me, making it squeal again. “Trust me. I just met her. She’s not a guy.”

  One of Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he whistled long and low. “A woman who didn’t lay down at your feet, huh? Didn’t know they still made those.”

  “Shut it.” I walked around my desk to the bulletin board where I’d pinned Sam’s drawings for the McLaren Resort–our vision for the future of the Inn. I hadn’t had a chance to show these to Michaela because she’d run off so quickly. The lines were elegant and clean, the entire structure was high end, glamorous.

  At my shoulder, Sam said, “What’d she think of this?” I could hear the pride in his voice as he looked at his drawing. My brother was more of an artist than an architect, though he did a fairly good job at both endeavors.

  “Didn’t even see it.” I was staring at the drawing, trying to see it through Michaela’s eyes, when a thought came to me. “You know what?” I turned to my brother, and he gave me a skeptical look, his eyes narrowing and his arms crossing again. “Can you do another version? More rustic but still luxurious? Maybe soften some of the lines here, blend it into the environment more?”