“Actually, now’s not really a good time,” Claire said, standing up. “I need to, ah, take care of some things. I’m really sorry.”

“If it’s more important than the survival of the hotel, sure.”

She looked down, then back up at him. “It’s not more important than that, I just – can we set up a time tomorrow to talk?”

The nerve of this lady! Like he didn’t have better things to do than chase her around and plead with her to take her new business seriously.

“I guess we can do tomorrow.” He crossed his arms. “Unless you expect the FBI to haul you away.”

Claire nodded, brushing past him. “Anytime. Please let me know.”

He was about to snap something back at her when her phone rang. She answered it.

“Hello?”

Chip gritted his teeth. She was ignoring him again!

“Slow down, sweetie. What happened?” Claire listened, her forehead crinkling. “Lucy, honey, please don’t cry. It’s not worth it to –”

He stared at her, cradling the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she clutched the pile of reports to her chest. Was she talking to her daughter?

For the first time, Chip had the strange, creeping thought that she wasn’t just the new hotel owner – she was also a regular human being.

“Okay,” Claire said softly, “No, that’s fine. Call me any time. I love you.”

As she tried to move the phone into her pocket, she dropped all of the papers onto the ballroom’s dance floor. They spun around her, floating to the floor in a ragged pile.

“Oh gosh, sorry,” she muttered, dropping to the ground.

It was as though someone had tossed a bucket of water onto the raging flame in Chip’s mind. He’d allowed himself to get entirely too worked up at this poor woman.

On the ground, Claire was frantic, dropping half of the papers again, almost falling as she tried to gather them. He knelt down to help her, but before he could think of something to say, she thanked him, apologized again, and disappeared from his sight.

Chapter Five

Things weren’t adding up. As much as Claire didn’t want to further annoy Chip, she had to get away from the hotel and find a quiet place. She needed to call the DNA company, or the FBI, or anyone who could get to the bottom of this misunderstanding.

Claire was already in her car and halfway down the road from the hotel when she realized that she’d forgotten her overnight bag. She slammed on the brakes.

Wait. Did she even need the bag? She closed her eyes and told herself to stop being flustered. It was hard for her. Occasionally when someone yelled at her, especially with so much anger, it threw her back into being a young, clueless paralegal.