Sunset Cove
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
SUNSET COVE
ANJ Press, First edition. December 2021.
Copyright © 2021 Amelia Addler.
Written by Amelia Addler.
Cover design by CrocoDesigns
Maps by MistyBeee
Dedication
For the hope of new beginnings
Introduction to Sunset Cove
A six-million-dollar inheritance, and a chance at a new life...
At 52, Claire Cooke gets the shock of a lifetime when she’s named the sole heir of a distant uncle. As a single mom, she’s already had to watch her kids grow up and leave the nest, so Claire decides to keep the money and take a risk: she buys The Grand Madrona Hotel on beautiful Orcas Island and prepares for a new chapter in her life.
Chip Douglas didn’t put in ten years as manager of the hotel just to watch a stranger run it into the ground. So imagine his surprise when Claire turns out to be the exact opposite of what he’d expected. She’s charming, wise, and beautiful – someone he could easily see himself falling in love with. If only his divorce hadn’t convinced him that falling in love again was impossible…
When the FBI shows up at Claire’s door asking questions about a dangerous criminal with close ties to her past, it’s not long before Claire is forced to face her history or lose her potentially happily ever after with Chip. Will she make the right choice?
San Juan Islands Map
Orcas Island Map
Chapter One
A blast rang out and Claire popped up from her pillow. It was dark in the unfamiliar hotel room as she strained to listen through the hollow silence.
Voices carried through the door and a moment later, she heard the clamoring of dishes. Her heart was still racing as the room service cart clanked by.
Claire let out a sigh. The sound had been real, not imagined. She hadn’t startled herself awake from a dream this time, the same one she’d dreamt a thousand times.
It had variations, of course. Sometimes she was onboard the small single-engine plane, screaming as she felt a force pulling her down, down, down, before exploding in a flash of light.
Other times, she dreamt she was on the ground, watching as the little aircraft’s wings clipped the tops of the trees before slamming into the side of a mountain.
No matter how it started, the outcome was always the same – fire, confusion, and a lack of survivors. Just like it had been in real life.
New chapters in life often started with a crash. Claire knew that. She was trying to avoid any crashes, collapses, or otherwise destructive starts this time, however. She hoped that her new beginning on Orcas Island would go smoothly. Quietly. That she’d be in control.
As much as that was possible. She rolled over to check the time on her phone, but despite pushing its buttons and giving it a shake, it refused to wake up. She squinted in the darkness and saw that the phone charger was hanging loosely from the outlet.
Ah. Loose outlets weren’t uncommon in old buildings like this. It was just another improvement they needed to make. She marked it down in her notebook.
The list was growing quite long, as she’d expected. It’d been nearly a week since she’d closed on the sale of The Grand Madrona Hotel, and she’d spent each night in a different room, taking notes, admiring the views, and finding out that many of the hotel’s critical reviews held nuggets of truth.
Her neck and shoulders were stiff from an anxious night, and she stretched before hopping out of bed and scooting across the creaking hardwood floor. She liked the sound; there was a charm to the hotel, something that she didn’t want to lose. The 1920’s style sang through the little details: the eloquent tile patterns, the gold-trimmed banisters. It just needed a bit of polish to really shine.
She pulled the curtains open with a dramatic swoop and the sunlight peeked in. This was the best room in the hotel – the Sunset Suite. The placid ocean waters filled her view and, in the distance, tiny green trees rose to the sky, a thousand perfect brushstrokes on the mountainside.
With some effort, Claire managed to open the old window and take a breath of the crisp island air. The sunlight quieted the jittery thoughts in her head, and she felt the fear of the morning fizzling away.
Claire smiled to herself. So what if she didn’t know anything about running a hotel? These views sold themselves! How hard could it be?
Not that hard – at least not yet, though she was open to suggestions. Claire had hired a hospitality consultant who told her to spend at least one night in every room of the hotel. He argued that she needed a true idea of what the experience was like for guests, and since there were only thirty-two rooms, it didn’t seem too cumbersome.
This was her sixth night, and she was glad she’d saved the suite until now. The room was more spacious than the others, and the furnishings were more grand. Best of all was the gentle sound of the water lapping at the shore – she’d never grow sick of it.
The night before, she’d sat in front of the window and watched as the sun set behind Turtleback Mountain, turning the sky from a smattering of orange and red, to yellow, and finally a glowing blue.
It was a perfect place, better than a dream. Claire leaned out of the window and closed her eyes.
There was a knock at the door. “Housekeeping!”
Did housekeeping always come this early? She leaned forward to grab her watch from the desk and startled at the time. It was nearly nine o’clock!
She’d promised to be out by eight so that housekeeping could get the room ready for the next paying customer.
“Just a few minutes, please!” Claire called out. She was supposed to meet the general manager, Charles – or did he go by Chip? – at nine for their first formal appointment. He’d been out the week prior visiting family for the holidays, and she was excited to finally talk to him.
Claire needed to make a good impression on Chip. The previous owner, Steve, said that the hotel lived and died by the manager’s orders.
She got dressed and hastily threw her bag together, slinging it over her shoulder before catching the elevator down to the lobby.
This was perhaps her favorite spot in the hotel. Everything about it just felt right – the sleek marble floors, the art deco furniture, the chandelier that hung over the elegant, sweeping staircase.
Most miraculously of all, this stunning place was hers.
Gigi was manning the front desk – sort of. Her head was bowed down, eyes fixed on her cell phone, and all Claire could see was her black hair.
Claire walked up to the desk, apparently unnoticed, and cleared her throat. Gigi looked up from her phone before letting out a sigh. “Good morning.”
“Good morning!” Claire said as she heaved her bag onto the table. “Would you be able to store this for me? I’m not sure if my next room is ready yet.”
Gigi looked at the computer screen, clicking away. “Doesn’t look like it. I can let you know when it is.”
“Thanks Gigi. Oh! Have you seen Charles around?”
Gigi frowned. “Do you mean Chip?”
“Er – yes. I wasn’t sure everyone called him that, or if it was just a nickname that Steve had made up.”
“No one ever calls him Charles,” she said flatly. “That won’t win you any points.”
Claire smiled. “Got it. Have you seen Chip, then?”
“I don’t think so,” she said with a shrug.
Claire could tell that Gigi was quickly losing interest in this conversation – if she ever had any interest in it to begin with. “I’ll see if I can find him. Will you please call me when my new room is ready?”
“It’s going to be a while. Housekeeping fell behind this morning.”
News traveled fast, didn’t it? “Ah, sure. No problem. I’ll wait for your call.”
Gigi nodded, her head already drifting, eyes fixed downward.
Claire rushed into the hotel’s restaurant, The Plum Spoon, but Chip was nowhere to be seen. She was only a few minutes late. Surely he hadn’t already marked her as a lost cause?
Claire was seated and she plugged her phone charger into a nearby wall. This time, the charger managed to hold.
She then turned her attention to trying to tame her disheveled hair using her reflection in the window. It was in vain – her hair had stubbornly decided its place for the day – and before long, the waiter stopped by to get her order.
She’d had the same waiter every day so far – Dan. He was a pleasant younger guy who gushed with excitement about both things to do on Orcas Island, as well as whatever the restaurant was serving that day. That morning, he was talking up the special: an oyster omelette.
Seafood didn’t sound appetizing to her anxious stomach. Yet Dan told her that the oysters were caught locally, that they had a sweeter taste than most, and how the chef expertly prepared only the best ones. She finally relented and said she’d love to try it.
Her omelette arrived quickly, garnished with a beautiful flower and flanked by fresh fruit on one side and lightly fried potatoes on the other. Claire found the fruit and potatoes easiest to stomach, but she took small bites of the omelette as well.
No need to offend Dan or the restaurant owner – they were just about the only people who had been nice to her in the past week, and if they decided to stop renting the space, Claire would have a hard time finding a restaurant to fill the void.
She kept checking her phone to see if she had any messages from Chip. Perhaps she’d gotten the day wrong, or something awful had happened to him? A car accident? A ferry accident?
She was about to call his cell phone when he walked through the door of the restaurant, a frown fixed on his face.
Claire stood up and waved. “Hey there!”
He saw her and nodded. “Miss Cooke, it’s good to see you.”
“Please,” she said, waving a hand. “Call me Claire.”
He looked different than she remembered, though she’d only met him for a brief moment before when she was talking to the previous owner.
He was dressed differently then, in a thickly knit sweater, and Steve had teased that he’d have to trade it in for a suit and tie once Claire was in charge.
Chip hadn’t gone as far as all that, but he was wearing a button-down shirt which seemed to fit awkwardly around his biceps, the material taut and strained.
Maybe that was why he looked so grouchy? His clothes were too tight. He was a big guy, at least a head taller than Claire, and far too broad to be struggling against a flimsy shirt all day.
That must be it – tight clothes. That could set anyone on edge.
They shook hands, his large hand squeezing hers firmly, and he took a seat. “I’m sorry for being late – ”
Claire rushed to respond. “That’s no problem, I had a bit of a late start myself today. I hope nothing is wrong?”
“No.” His scowl deepened. “Just a guest threatening to leave a one-star review.”
“Oh no! What happened?”
He shook his head, and Dan stopped by to take his order. “Just coffee, thanks.” Chip sat back. “Nothing to worry about. He was caught smoking in his room – lit part of the duvet on fire. We had to charge him the two-hundred-dollar cleaning fee, and I had half a mind to drag the duvet into the lobby for him to add to his review.”
Claire winced.
“What?” Chip said. “Would you have preferred if I handled it a different way?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that, I just – ”
“What?” He crossed his arms.
Claire bit her lip. “It’s nothing. I don’t have any experience in hospitality, as you know.”
“Yes, I know.”
She forced a smile. “I’m not sure if Steve told you, but I ended up hiring a consultant – Ken Gallon? Have you worked with him before, or maybe read his book?”
Chip shook his head. “Never heard of him.”
“Oh, well, he recommended that I read a few books about hospitality. They talk about different ways to handle challenging situations.”
“Do they?” he said, accepting his coffee with a nod.
Claire paused. This wasn’t how she’d hoped this meeting would go. “Maybe we can set up a time to talk about that later? I’m sure that you’ve had a lot of experience in dealing with difficult customers.”
“Yes, I have.” Chip took a sip of his coffee before setting it down in front of him. “But if that’s how you think I would best spend my time, then I guess that’s what I’ll be doing.”
All right then. Clearly Claire was not doing well in keeping the hotel’s right-hand man happy. “No – please. I want you to tell me what we need to do. I was hoping to learn a lot from you.”
“Look,” he said, leaning forward. “I’m going to level with you. Things at the hotel don’t look good.”
She sat back. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not been a great time for hotels the last few years, if you haven’t noticed.”
Claire nodded. “Oh, of course.”
“I’m not trying to say that Steve painted an overly rosy picture of our financial situation here. He genuinely believed in the place. To be honest, he probably thought it would all work out, like it always had. I couldn’t get him to listen to me.”
“I’ll listen to you,” Claire said quickly. “Really.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a file. “Take a look for yourself. I’ve prepared some reports. There’s a list of expenses, a few pages on the budget, and the projected occupancy for the coming year. At the end there’s a list of suggested improvements –”
“Oh yes, I’ve got some ideas for improvements, too,” she said, pulling her notebook out of her purse.
He narrowed his eyes at the notebook, reading off her first suggestion. “New curtains? It’s going to take more than that to keep this place going.”
Claire nodded, covering her silly notebook with the papers he’d just given her. She flipped to the end of the packet, eager to see the improvements he’d listed.
Eager wasn’t the most honest word – she was also afraid. She’d spent most of her money buying the hotel, and though she’d set aside some money for improvements, the idea frightened her. Spending money was always hard for her, especially because for most of her life, she’d hardly had any.
“You look overwhelmed,” said Chip. “Do you want me to talk you through some of this?”
“That would be great,” said Claire, looking up with a smile.
Dan appeared at the end of the table. “Excuse me, Miss Cooke?”
“Dan, please, it’s Claire.”
He flashed a smile.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think someone is looking for you.”
“Oh?”
He dropped his voice. “They said they were FBI agents.”
Claire laughed, but his expression didn’t change. “I’m sorry. Are you serious?”
He nodded his head. “They asked for you at the front desk, but now they’re running around the hotel. I think some of the guests are upset.”
Claire stood up. “Wow, okay.” She looked down at Chip. “Some of the staff has been pulling jokes on me. All in good fun, you know, but at first I assumed…” She flashed a smile and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Chip. I’d better go and see what this is about. Maybe we can –”
Chip nodded. “I’ll be in my office when you’re done.”
Claire offered him a strained smile. “Thanks.”
Chapter Two
Chip stared at Claire’s back as she walked away.
Unbelievable.
Their first meeting had lasted all of fifteen minutes. When Steve sold the hotel, he assured Chip that he was leaving the place in good hands.
It didn’t seem that way. It seemed like Steve had gotten soft in his old age.
“No, he was always soft,” Chip muttered to himself. The old man had hired him ten years ago, even though he had no experience in hotels. Steve had taught him everything he knew – well, sort of. Chip always knew more about money than Steve did. Steve never cared about money, hence the state the hotel was in now.
Chip let out a sigh. Claire had left behind the papers he’d given her, and she didn’t pay for her breakfast. He debated adding her meal to his tab, but decided that would seem too much like he was kissing up.
He’d tried to be considerate of her when he decided to wear a “nice” shirt. Chip had regretted that from the moment he left the house. It was uncomfortable, and it felt weird. Why should he have to change how he dressed because of a new owner? Steve never cared how he dressed.
He paid for his coffee and walked out to the lobby, spotting a distracted Gigi at the front desk.
“Gigi. Off your phone,” he snapped. “I’m going to start locking it up if you can’t keep your eyes off of it.”
“Sorry boss,” she said with a smile. “Hey, did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
Her eyes brightened and she leaned forward. “That the new owner is a criminal.”
Chip frowned. “What?”
Linda, the events coordinator, popped up behind him. “I bet that’s how she got the money to buy the hotel. Do you think she’s in with the mob or something?”
“No, I don’t think she’s in with the mob,” Chip said.
Gigi nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. She’s too clueless. I think she’s just a rich lady who’s never worked a day in her life.”
Linda nodded. “I can see that.”
Gigi dropped her voice. “Did you know that she’s spending a night in every room? It’s driving housekeeping nuts. Every time I think they have a freebie because the room was empty, Claire messes it up.”
“Can’t wait for my meeting with her,” Linda said airily.
Chip said nothing and walked off. He had his questions, too, but he wasn’t going to join in the staff gossip. It didn’t matter who this woman was – they had to deal with her regardless.
She was the new owner of the hotel, the hotel that he had dedicated the last ten years of his life to, the same one that had been in a spiral for the last two years. A spiral that Claire seemed bent on accelerating.
When he handed her the numbers – the facts of her new situation – she looked at him like he’d dumped a glass of water over her head.
Chip smiled to himself. He’d sort of wanted that reaction. He wanted her to feel shocked, surprised, and overwhelmed. Sometimes people need to get a little jolt to move them into action.
He needed her to understand how serious the situation was at the hotel, how close they all were to being bought up by a huge company and their roles “streamlined” in the name of profit.
Fifteen minutes wasn’t enough to communicate this to her, though, especially when she had her own list of ideas for improvement. As if a week at the hotel was all she needed to figure it out!
Ridiculous. How could she think that she knew better than him? Because she’d hired a consultant?
Chip got back to his office and looked up the consultant, this Mr. Ken Gallon. The guy was clearly a grifter. His résumé read like a list of schemes, jumping from one strangely named company to the next. He used overly flowery language, saying that while employed at a bank he “managed portfolios totaling over fifty million dollars.”
What did that even mean? That the bank had fifty million? That was nothing for a bank. When Chip had worked at an investment bank, he saw hundreds of millions of dollars disappear like it was nothing.
And now the FBI was poking around his hotel. Despite not knowing for certain that it was Claire’s fault that federal agents were there, he was angry enough to assign her the full blame. He huffed around his office, shuttling papers, moving books, and muttering to himself.
In his fury, he knocked an old mug of coffee onto his copy of the financials.
“Well, that’s just great,” he said, mopping up the mess with a paper towel.
So much for his plan for the next year. He tossed the sopping paper towel into the trash and took a seat. “It’ll be a miracle if we even make it a year,” he muttered, turning to his computer.
Chapter Three
After checking the gym, the banquet hall, and the lengths of the first and second floors, Claire was beginning to wonder if perhaps she’d dismissed the prank theory too quickly.
There was no sign of the alleged FBI agents anywhere, and the look on Chip’s face as she walked away was burned into her mind’s eye – the look of disappointment. Or was it disgust?
Claire wasn’t sure, but it was bad. Steve made it sound like Chip was the most important person at the hotel. How was she going to make any of this work without his help?
The elevator let out a ding – a light, metallic sound that Claire couldn’t get enough of – and the doors opened to the third floor. She looked around, seeing no one. The housekeeping cart was parked outside of the Sunset Suite, and Claire decided she’d ask them if they’d seen anyone. If they hadn’t, she’d give up her futile search.
The Story Continues on BooksBarbecue!
Enjoyed this preview? ❤️ Do not stop here!
Read the complete book free online → 🔗
Continue reading now on BooksBarbecue and discover every page!
Love reading? Bookmark BooksBarbecue.com for more amazing books!
Happy Reading!