Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(90)

“That’s what your dad said yesterday on the phone. Sounds like maybe the distillery might happen, huh? Your friend wants to partner up and invest?”

I grimaced. “Maybe. We’ll see. First I need to survive a week with him to know if I can possibly take him as a partner.”

Henry laughed. “You don’t get along with him?”

“It’s complicated. I’m going to try.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I said, heading out of his office into the hall. “I’ll need it.”

Next, I stuck my head into my dad’s office. “Got a sec?”

“For one of my girls, always.” He smiled. “So you and Oliver are headed out today, I hear?”

“Yes, although I have no idea where. I told him he has one week to sell me on this partnership idea.”

“That’s what he told me this morning at breakfast.” He nodded. “I think it’s smart. Hear him out, get all the facts and figures. He didn’t go into much of that with me.”

“I will. I’ve got plenty of questions to ask.” In fact, I’d started a list last night. “I want to know exactly how he sees this working with us co-owning the venture. I don’t want to be just his silent partner. I want a say in things.”

“Good for you, honey. Just remember, he’s got more experience than you do.”

My hands balled into fists. “Yes, I know, Dad. I’m not sure if we’re heading to Detroit or what, but I’ll keep in touch with you.”

“Sounds good. Have fun.”

After that, I headed up to the inn’s reception desk, where my mother was on duty.

“There you are,” she said brightly. “Oliver was looking for you.”

“It’s barely eight A.M!”

“I think he wanted to get an early start today.” She smiled approvingly. “He’s always been so ambitious.”

I was dying to roll my eyes, but I managed to refrain. I didn’t want anyone to accuse me of going into this with a bad attitude. “I spoke with Henry just now and he says he’ll be fine without me this week. Apparently, Renee is going to come in and help out.”

My mother’s smile disappeared, and lines creased her forehead. “Is she? The poor thing.”

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “You can’t say anything about this, but I ran into her last week in town, and when I asked how she was, she burst into tears. Turns out they’ve been struggling with fertility treatments. She confided that their latest round of IVF failed.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

“She was so upset. Reminded me of when Sylvia was trying to get pregnant.”

My eyes widened. “Really? I didn’t know Sylvia had IVF.”

“She didn’t talk about it much. You know how private she is.” She sighed. “But it was very hard on her. Anyway, it just goes to show you that you shouldn’t wait forever to start trying to have children,” my mom scolded. “You never know what kinds of issues you might—”

“Bye, Mom.” I left her mid-sentence, unwilling to hear another lecture about putting off marriage and family. I had no idea if that was in the cards for me and didn’t feel any burning desire to make it happen. I had my hands full with professional goals.

Thank God Frannie had just gotten engaged to Mack—our mother could nag her about kids now.

From the inn’s lobby, which was starting to get crowded with guests coming down from their rooms for breakfast, I headed for my parents’ wing, which was the original farmhouse, although it had been expanded and remodeled many times over the last 100 years.

I let myself in the side door, which led directly into the kitchen, where I found Oliver leaning against the counter, drinking a cup of coffee, and looking at his phone. He was showered and dressed, and his hair was still a little damp, so it looked darker than it really was. His shorts made me laugh—they were red.

“Good morning,” he said, looking up from the screen. “What’s so funny?”

“Your shorts. They remind me of prom.”

He grinned. “Oh, right. I forgot about that. What a bunch of douchebags we were.”

“Finally, something we can agree on.” I stuck a pod in the Keurig and grabbed a coffee cup. “So what’s the scoop for today?”

“I figured we’d take a drive, so I can show you the place I want you to see.”

“How long is the drive?” I asked, watching my cup fill.

“Not long at all. But I was thinking we could stay there for the night.”

Suspicious, I peered at him over one shoulder. “Stay there for the night?”

“Sure.” He drank his coffee, crossing his feet at the ankles.

“Like, in a hotel or something?”

He hesitated. “Or something.”

Sighing, I pulled my cup from the machine and turned to face him. “I’m not sharing a room with you, Oliver.”

“Okay.”

“This isn’t some kind of reunion for us.”

“I get it.”

“And if I don’t want to stay wherever it is you’re taking me, I’m not staying.”

“Fair enough.”