“Ignore them,” Callie admonished when she noticed Eve’s preoccupation.
Eve lowered her voice. “I can’t. They’ve single-handedly destroyed my family’s business.”
“It’s not illegal to give you some competition,” Baxter pointed out. He’d grown up next door to Noah, and they’d spent most of their time together, but they were nothing alike. In keeping with his profession, Noah was athletic, perfectly toned and always tan. He rode outside nearly every day, including the winter. Baxter, a stockbroker who commuted to San Francisco three or four days a week, was handsome, too, but in a suave, cultured way.
“They’ve been doing more than that,” Eve muttered. “They’ve been trying to drive me out of business. That’s unethical, even if it isn’t illegal.”
Cheyenne knew how close they’d come. She wasn’t sure the Harmons would be able to hang on to the inn, despite the remodel and the name change and the plans they’d developed to promote Little Mary’s as a haunted house. “They’ve been undercutting our rates by so much they can’t possibly be making any money,” she explained. “They’re taking a loss every day—a significant one, considering how much they’ve thrown into restoring that place. They’re just hoping to outlast us.”
“At which point they’ll be the only B and B in town and will recoup their losses,” Eve said bitterly. “You wait and see.”
“Except they won’t succeed in forcing you to close your doors.” Riley handed his son some money so he could go to the counter and buy one of the giant muffins Black Gold was known for. “You’re about to give people a good reason to stay at your place, even if it costs a little extra.”
“What?” Eve asked dryly. “A scare?”
“A piece of Whiskey Creek history.” Ted pushed his to-go cup aside. “Maybe it’ll help that I’ve decided to tackle Mary Hatfield’s murder as the basis for a new book.”
“Really?” Noah flipped his hair out of his face as he leaned forward. “You’re moving away from fiction?”
“I’ll keep up with my current contracts. The thrillers are my bread and butter. But in my spare time I’d like to research what happened to Mary. See if there’s a story there. I’ve always been curious about it. If I can find enough information to proceed, maybe it’ll bring some notoriety to the inn.”
“You’d better work fast,” Eve said.
He reached over to cover her hand with his. “You’re making lots of great changes. Have some faith.”
“Everything will work out.” Callie tucked her shiny blond hair behind one ear. “But even if it doesn’t, you’ve done all you can. We’re leaving on Sunday. Don’t let the Russos ruin your trip.”
Eve flattened her hands on the table. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve tried to talk to them, but they won’t listen, let alone show any sympathy.”
“It’s business,” Noah said. “You can’t take it personally.”
That was easy for Noah to say, Cheyenne thought. His future didn’t depend on the bed-and-breakfast.
“There are human beings behind businesses. Eve has always believed that running The Gold Nugget would be her future.”
Everyone glanced at one another as if they were shocked it was Sophia who’d contributed this. She and her husband were the wealthiest people in town—not counting Simon, who’d married Gail a year ago. One would think if anyone was going to weigh in on the side of ruthless business practices, it would be Sophia, who’d chosen to break Ted’s heart and marry for money.
“The problem will still be here when you get back,” Riley said, reiterating Callie’s sentiment. “Tackle it then. For now, the inn is my baby. You have better things to think about.”
He was referring to the cruise, of course. But that wasn’t where Eve’s mind went. Cheyenne could tell by the smile that broke out across her face. “I do have better things to think about,” she agreed. “One of them is dinner with Joe DeMarco.”
Cheyenne nearly dropped her cappuccino. Eve had sworn her to secrecy. She’d said she didn’t want anyone to know how she felt about Joe, not until she’d had the chance to see if he returned her interest. Did his agreement to have dinner mean that?
“So…is this a date?” Callie was instantly intrigued; they all were.
Blushing slightly, Eve rolled back the foil lid of her orange juice. “It is.”
Baxter crossed one leg over the other. Although he usually worked at home on Fridays, he was dressed in one of his hand-tailored suits, signifying he had business in San Francisco. “Since when have you been seeing Joe?”
“Tonight will be our first evening out. But…I’ve had my eye on him for ages.”
Cheyenne couldn’t look up. She didn’t want to meet anyone’s gaze, didn’t want her friends to realize that she felt as if she’d just been kicked in the stomach. Eve hadn’t had her eye on Joe nearly as long as Cheyenne had. But she couldn’t say so. Eve’s announcement made Joe hers, whether he felt the same or not.
“He needs to start seeing someone.” Callie put her plastic spoon into an empty yogurt container. “How long has it been since his divorce?”
Noah answered. “I was getting back from my first race in Europe when I heard, so it would have to be four, five years ago.”
“The divorce was hard on him,” Baxter commented.
Riley’s chair scraped the wood floor as he made room for his son, who’d returned with his muffin. “What his ex-wife did would’ve been hard on anybody.”
“I think he’s seen a few women over the past couple of years, but no one from around here,” Ted volunteered.
“And no one who’s as perfect for him as I am,” Eve joked.
When everyone chuckled, Cheyenne tried to laugh, too, but couldn’t manage much more than a pained smile. She wanted to say she had to check on her mother so she could slip out. But she’d driven over with Eve.
Forcing herself to sit quietly, she pretended the same happy interest the others exhibited as Sophia said how delighted Gail would be, and Ted teased that it was about time the reluctant-to-commit Eve settled on someone. It’d been three years since her last relationship.
Soon talk of Eve and Joe died down, but the next subject didn’t make Chey feel much better. Ted told everyone about the tourist information he’d found online. Callie went over what to pack for the cruise. And Eve asked whether or not to buy traveler’s checks—all for a trip Cheyenne couldn’t take.