Chapter Twelve
Ken set his coffee cup down and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “You can’t let him bully you, Claire. Remember,youare the one with a vision for this place.”
Claire glanced at him before standing up. “Excuse me. I need to speak with Chip.”
“It’s just as well,” Ken said with a sigh. “I’ve got to run. Until later. Don’t forget – positive energy!”
Claire nodded at him. “Yes, right.”
She went after Chip. He was already halfway to his office by the time she caught up to him.
“Hey!” she called out.
He spun around, a half-smile on his face. He didn’t look angry.
That was good.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Claire let out a breath. “I am so sorry about Ken. I’m not on board with that Thanksgiving idea. My daughter Lucy educated me long ago on the history of Native Americans and how –”
“Please. It’s okay.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I expected as much from Ken. He’s my competition.”
Claire cocked her head to the side. “Your competition?”
Chip nodded. “Yeah. I have to win you over to the dark side – to the side of the Fruit Festival.”
She laughed. “It won’t be that hard.”
“Don’t make up your mind yet,” he said, putting his hands up. “I was thinking we could make a trip to one of the orchards. You should try some of the local ciders before giving the festival the axe.”
Claire didn’t need to be convinced. Regardless of Ken’s opinion, she liked the sound of the Fruit Festival. It was a tradition. Who was she to tamper with tradition?
However, in her ploy to hide Marty, she needed to act as natural as possible. Spending time with her general manager fit the bill. “That sounds nice.”
“Great. I’m free tonight,” he said.
Claire had planned to spend the weekend at the cabin, getting to know Marty. “Ah. I’m not. What about next week?”
“Sure. Next Friday, then?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s perfect.”
“I can pick you up, if you’d like.”
Oh dear. She didn’t want anyone near the cabin. “How about I meet you there? I’m spending next week with housekeeping, and that’ll just make it easier.”
“That works.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m sending you the address. See you at…?”
“Seven?” she suggested.
He nodded. “Seven’s great. Good luck with housekeeping.”
?
He walked off and Claire let out a sigh, releasing the tension in her shoulders. It was good that Chip wasn’t upset...and that Ken had taken off for the day.
She’d thought Ken would have interesting ideas for the hotel, but so far he hadn’t given her many specifics. In fact, the more she thought about it, the most specific he’d gotten was when he insulted Chip and criticized the Fruit Festival.
