In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes: Chapter 4
A WEEK after I received my business loan, Grant went on a weekend trip to visit his parents in Vancouver. The morning after he left, he transferred the contents of our company’s account to a bank in Mexico City. The detectives with the police department suspected he had left the immediate area, and the investigation hit a dead end.
His name wasn’t even Grant Markham. It was Jason Fairfax, and he had done this to two other women in Europe.
That’s when I hired a private investigator to get my money back.
“I had to grease a few palms to get the bank security footage,” Rick said. “He left here with a duffel bag of cash, like the detective expected.”
I let a long breath out, chewing my lip. “Okay, so what now?”
Rick sighed. “Look, you’re a nice person, so I’m going to be straight with you. The detectives said this guy has done this before, right? The chances that he’s hanging around are slim. If I were him, I would take off down to South America and drink mojitos on a beach for the rest of my life. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. I don’t think we’re going to find this guy.”
A rock landed in my stomach and I swallowed.
“There’s nothing we can do?” I asked. “Anything, Rick?”
He sighed again. “You’re the client, and as long as you’re paying me, I’m happy to sit in bars and ask people if they’ve seen the guy, but it’s a waste of your money.”
I rubbed my temple, scrambling for a solution. I knew in my gut he was right.
Grant was perfect, too perfect, and it was all an act. He had practiced this, and I fell for it. I always fell for the wrong guy.
I nodded. “Okay.” My hand was shaking.
“I’m sorry, Sadie, but this guy is a professional. I’ll send you the invoice when I get home.”
We said goodbye and hung up, and I wished I could disappear into the floor.
It was so much money, and I wasn’t getting it back.
I walked downstairs in a daze and confused about the universe.
I was a good person. I paid my taxes. If I saw someone’s skirt tucked into their underwear or food in their teeth, I told them. When my friends had too many margaritas, I helped them get home safe. I had volunteered with Big Sisters in Toronto for five years. When I was done with my grocery shopping, I always put my cart back with the others.
What did I do to deserve this?
This debt was going to take years to pay off. The bank didn’t care that Grant stole the money. When I was building my business plan, the monthly payments seemed reasonable, but now?
No money, no company, no clients, no income.
The loan was in my name, because Grant had spent the last decade in New York before he transferred to Toronto, and was still building Canadian credit.
Fuck. My stomach burned with shame. I was so clueless.
Before Grant, it was Dylan, an investment banker who seemed like the perfect guy until I figured out he expected me to stay home with our future children. Great for some people, but not for me. I loved interior design, and I wasn’t giving it up.
Before Dylan, it was Luke, a painter I had met while doing a fine arts degree. Luke also seemed perfect in that tortured artist way until I overheard him making fun of my paintings.
I blew out a long breath and I closed my eyes. When would I learn? I couldn’t trust myself to pick the right guy, and it was getting worse each time.
While I locked up at the inn, I pushed all the feelings aside.
It didn’t matter. I was done with dating for the foreseeable future. I had enough on my plate.
Twenty minutes later, I strolled back down the main street on the hunt for some lunch when my gaze landed a shop window.
It was a real estate agency, with listings posted in the window for people to browse.
An idea struck me and a smile stretched across my face. The inn was worth a ton of money, and I had a ton of debt.
We could sell the inn. Of course. It was so simple.
Guilt poked me in the ribcage. The inn was Katherine’s life’s work. She put her whole life into that place. Her passion and purpose was hosting people, showing them the beauty of Queen’s Cove, growing friendships with travelers from around the world, and helping people make incredible memories during their vacation.
My forehead pinched and I chewed my lip with uncertainty.
On the other hand, I had zero plans to own and operate the inn, and I doubted Holden did either. The guy had a company to run. What the hell would he want with an inn? Katherine knew my life was in Toronto. There was no way she had expected me to move to Queen’s Cove and run the inn, and if she did, she wouldn’t have left it to Holden. She would have left it solely to me.
From what Katherine had told me, his company was successful. He didn’t need the money. Why was he in the will?
I knew one thing. Katherine did this because she loved me. She left it to me because she didn’t have any kids, and we were close. This was her way of giving me a leg up in life.
A surprised, elated laugh burst out of me, and I sent a million thank you’s up to Katherine, wherever she was in the universe. My golden solution had landed straight at my feet, and I could see my problems evaporating.
Good things happened to good people.
I’d stay at the inn one last night, and tomorrow, I’d go find Holden.