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“I wouldn’t put anything past her,” she admits. “And I had a horrible thought yesterday, by the way, and I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about it.”
It’s my turn to tilt my head as I wait for her to tell me what it was.
“What if Nana can’t decide so she gives us each fifty percent?”
I twist my lips. The thought hadn’t occurred to me, but then this has all been such a whirlwind that I haven’t had much time to think rationally about much of anything. “Do you think she’d do that?”
Her brows knit together. “She’s kind of doing it with my dad and uncle,” she points out.
“But they don’t own fifty percent each. Maggie still retains ownership, and she’s just having them run it at fifty percent each.”
“Fair point. But still…I can’t work every day for the rest of my life with Amelia in charge here.” She sighs. “I don’t know what I can do to prove it should be me.”
I press my lips together, and I set my phone down as I take her into my arms. “Just be you, Gracie. Keep doing what you’ve always done. What’s that saying? The trash takes itself out? Her true colors will show, babe. Just give her the time to show them.”
“To who? Because Nana’s obviously blind to those true colors if she’s considering giving it to her.”
I hug her a little tighter. “Or maybe she already knows it’s you, and she’s just giving Amelia the chance to try to step up and do the right thing.”
She sighs, and I feel her relax a little into my arms. “I hope you’re right.”
I kiss the top of her head, and then I let her go so she can dish out the eggs as I pour us each a cup of coffee.
I hope I’m right, too.
The doorbell rings shortly before I’m about to head over for another day of analyzing financial reports with Steve, and I spot a huge vase of flowers sitting on the porch. I pick it up and bring it inside, and Grace is just finishing up the dishes.
“Oh, Spencer,” she says, wiping her hands on a towel. “How sweet!”
“These aren’t from me,” I admit, though I’m sort of kicking myself for not thinking of sending my wife flowers.
She looks confused as I set them on the table. “Not from you? Then…who?”
I finger the card on the stick that says Grace, and I pull it off and hand it to her.
She pulls the card out and reads it aloud. “Grace, I heard you got married in Vegas, and it made me realize all I’ve lost. If it isn’t real, give me a call. I’ve been thinking about us nonstop. Love, Patrick.” She glances up at me.
“Patrick? Who’s Patrick?” I ask.
“My ex,” she says, rolling her eyes. “It’s been years, but nobody knows better than my family how devastated I was when it ended. I’m over it now, for the record, and this is clearly Amelia already starting with games.”
I see it the moment it happens. A fire lights up her eyes as she shakes her head. “She thinks she can win with stupid tricks like this, but she won’t.”
I raise both brows. “I’m right here beside you for whatever you need.” I have to admit, I’m sort of interested in what my wife is going to come up with to ensure she gets what’s rightfully hers.
Chapter 38: Grace Nash
Separating Emotion from Decisions
A Week After the Wedding
“I have some ideas for things we can do, but a lot of it would fall under marketing,” I tell my dad. I’m here interrupting his time with Spencer, but I’ve been brainstorming all morning, and this is what I’ve come up with.
I’m taking the high road where Amelia is concerned. I’m not going to try to sabotage her relationship. Instead, I’m going to prove how much this place needs me, and by the same token, I’m going to show how irrelevant Amelia is.
“Areas dip into each other all the time,” my dad says. “Just because Amelia has the title of marketing director doesn’t mean the hospitality manager can’t create marketing events as well. What are you thinking?”
“I thought we could improve our reputation by doing some charitable events, maybe do some live BTS type things on our TikTok and Instagram accounts, and reach out to some influencers with private tours,” I say, naming a few ideas from my earlier brainstorm off the top of my head.
