Simply Irresistible
Page 2

“Your momma said you’d say that, but she knew better. Knew your worth ethic. She said you worked very hard.”
Maddie had worked hard. And dammit, she had also pretty much run that company. May it rot in hell. “How do you know all this?”
“I’m Lucille.” When this produced no recognition from Maddie, she cackled in laughter. “I actually work for you. You know, at the inn? Whenever there’s guests, I come in and clean.”
“By yourself?”
“Well, business hasn’t exactly been hopping, has it? Oh! Wait here a second, I have something to show you—”
“Actually, I’m sort of in a hurry…” But Lucille was gone. “Okay, then.”
Two minutes later, Lucile reappeared from the gallery carrying a small carved wooden box that said RECIPES, the kind that held 3x5 index cards. “This is for you girls.”
Maddie didn’t cook, but it seemed rude not to take it. “Did Phoebe cook?”
“Oh, hell, no,” Lucille said with a cackle. “She could burn water like no other.”
Maddie accepted the box with a baffled “Thanks.”
“Now, you just continue down this road about a mile to the clearing. You can’t miss it. Call me if you need anything. Cleaning, organizing… spider relocation.”
This caught Maddie’s attention. “Spider relocation?”
“Your momma wasn’t big on spiders.”
Uh-huh, something they had in common. “Are there a lot of them?”
“Well, that depends on what you consider a lot.”
Oh, God. Any more than one was an infestation. Maddie managed a smile that might have been more a baring of her teeth, gave a wave of thanks, and got back into her car, following the dirt road. “The Mouse,” she said with a sigh.
That was going to change.
Chapter 2
“Don’t take life too seriously. After all, none of us
are getting out alive anyway.”
PHOEBE TRAEGER
Turned out Lucille was right, and in exactly one mile, the road opened up to a clearing. The Pacific Ocean was a deep, choppy sea of black, dusted with whitecaps that went out as far as Maddie could see. It connected with a metallic gray sky, framed by rocky bluffs, misty and breathtaking.
She had found the “resort,” and Lucille had gotten something else right, too. The place wasn’t exactly hopping.
Dead was more like it.
Clearly, the inn had seen better days. A woman sat on the front porch steps, a Vespa parked nearby. At the sight of Maddie, she stood. She wore cute little hip-hugging army cargoes, a snug, bright red Henley, and matching high-tops. Her glossy dark red hair cascaded down her back in an artful disarray that would have taken an entire beauty salon staff to accomplish on Maddie’s uncontrollable curls.
Chloe, the twenty-four-year-old Wild Child.
Maddie attempted to pat down her own dark blond hair that had a mind of its own, but it was a waste of time on a good day, which this most definitely wasn’t. Before she could say a word, a cab pulled up next to Maddie’s car and a tall, lean, beautiful woman got out. Her short brunette hair was layered and effortlessly sexy. She wore an elegant business suit that emphasized her fit body and a cool smile.
Tara, the Steel Magnolia.
As the cabbie set Tara’s various bags on the porch, the three of them just stared at one another, five years of estrangement floating awkwardly between them. The last time they’d all been in one place, Tara and Maddie had met in Montana to bail Chloe out of jail for illegally bungee jumping off a bridge. Chloe had thanked them, promised to pay them back, and they’d all gone their separate ways.
It was just the way it was. They had three different fathers and three very different personalities, and the only thing they had in common was a sweet, ditzy, wanderlusting hippie of a mother.
“So,” Maddie said, forcing a smile through the uncomfortable silence. “How’s things?”
“Ask me again after we sort out this latest mess,” Tara murmured and eyed their baby sister.
Chloe tossed up her hands. “Hey, I had nothing to do with this one.”
“Which would be a first.” Tara spoke with the very slight southern accent that she denied having, the one she’d gotten from growing up on her paternal grandparents’ horse ranch in Texas.
Chloe rolled her eyes and pulled her always-present asthma inhaler from her pocket, looking around without much interest. “So this is it? The big reveal?”
“I guess so,” Maddie said, also taking in the clearly deserted inn. “There don’t appear to be any guests at the moment.”
“Not good for resale value,” Tara noted.
“Resale?” Maddie asked.
“Selling is the simplest way to get out of here as fast as possible.”
Maddie’s stomach clenched. She didn’t want to get out of here. She wanted a place to stay—to breathe, to lick her wounds, to regroup. “What’s the hurry?”
“Just being realistic. The place came with a huge mortgage and no liquid assets.”
Chloe shook her head. “Sounds like Mom.”
“There was a large trust fund from her parents,” Maddie said. “The will separated it out from the estate, so I have no idea who it went to. I assumed it was one of you.”
Chloe shook her head.
They both looked at Tara.
“Sugar, I don’t know any more than y’all. What I do know is that we’d be smart to sell, pay off the loan on the property, and divide what’s left three ways and get back to our lives. I’m thinking we can list the place and be out of here in a few days if we play our cards right.”
This time Maddie’s stomach plummeted. “So fast?”
“Do you really want to stay in Lucky Harbor a moment longer than necessary?” Tara asked. “Even Mom, bless her heart, didn’t stick around.”
Chloe shook her inhaler and took a second puff from it. “Selling works for me. I’m due at a friend’s day spa in New Mexico next week.”
“You have enough money to book yourself at a spa in New Mexico, but not enough to pay me back what you’ve borrowed?” Tara asked.
“I’m going there to work. I’ve been creating a natural skin care line, and I’m giving a class on it, hoping to sell the line to the spa.” Chloe eyed the road. “Think there’s a bar in town? I could use a drink.”
“It’s four in the afternoon,” Tara said.
“But it’s five o’clock somewhere.”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “What?” she said to Tara’s sound of disappointment.
“I think you know.”
“Why don’t you tell me anyway.”
And here we go, Maddie thought, anxiety tightening like a knot in her throat. “Um, maybe we could all just sit down and—”
“No, I want her to say what’s on her mind,” Chloe said.
The static electricity rose in the air until it crackled with violence from both impending storms—Mother Nature’s and the sisters’ fight.
“It’s not important what I think,” Tara said coolly.
“Oh, come on, Dixie,” Chloe said. “Lay it on us. You know you want to.”
Maddie stepped between them. She couldn’t help it. It was the middle sister in her, the approval seeker, the office manager deep inside. “Look!” she said in desperation. “A puppy!”
Chloe swiveled her head to Maddie, amused. “Seriously?”
She shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
“Next time say it with more conviction and less panic. You might get somewhere.”
“Well, I don’t give a hoot if there are puppies and rainbows,” Tara said. “As unpleasant as this is, we have to settle it.”
Maddie was watching Chloe shake her inhaler again, looking pale. “You okay?”
“Peachy.”
She tried not to take the sarcasm personally. Chloe, a free spirit as Phoebe had been, suffered debilitating asthma and resented the hell out of the disability because it hampered her quest for adventure.
And for arguing.
Together all three sisters walked across the creaky porch and into the inn. Like most of the other buildings in Lucky Harbor, it was Victorian. The blue and white paint had long ago faded, and the window shutters were mostly gone or falling off, but Maddie could picture how it’d once looked: new and clean, radiating character and charm.
They’d each been mailed a set of keys. Tara used hers to unlock and open the front door, and she let out a long-suffering sigh.
The front room was a shrine to a country-style house circa 1980. Just about everything was blue and white, from the checkered window coverings to the duck-and-cow accent wallpaper peeling off the walls. The paint was chipped and the furniture not old enough to be antique and yet at least thirty years on the wrong side of new.
“Holy asphyxiation,” Chloe said with her nose wrinkled at the dust. “I won’t be able to stay here. I’ll suffocate.”
Tara shook her head, half horrified, half amused. “It looks like Laura Ingalls Wilder threw up in here.”
“You know, your accent gets thicker and thicker,” Chloe said.
“I don’t have an accent.”
“Okay. Except you do.”
“It’s not that bad,” Maddie said quickly when Tara opened her mouth.
“Oh, it’s bad,” Chloe said. “You sounds like Susan Sarandon in Bull Durham.”
“The inn,” Maddie clarified. “I meant the inn isn’t so bad.”
“I’ve stayed in hostels in Bolivia that looked like the Ritz compared to this,” Chloe said.
“Mom’s mom and her third husband ran this place.” Tara ran a finger along the banister, then eyed the dust on the pad of her finger. “Years and years ago.”
“So Grandma ran through men, too?” Chloe asked. “Jeez, it’s like we’re destined to be man-eaters.”
“Speak for yourself,” Tara murmured, indeed sounding like Susan Sarandon.
Chloe grinned. “Admit it, our gene pool could use some chlorine.”
“As I was saying,” Tara said when Maddie laughed. “Grandma worked here, and when she died, Mom attempted to take over but got overwhelmed.”
Maddie was mesmerized by this piece of her past. She’d never even heard of this place. As far as she knew, none of them had kept in regular contact with Phoebe. This was mostly because their mother had spent much of her life out of contact with anything other than her own whimsy.
Not that she’d been a bad person. By all accounts, she’d been a sweet, free-loving flower child. But she hadn’t been the greatest at taking care of things like cars, bank accounts… her daughters. “I wasn’t even aware that Mom had been close to her parents.”
“They died a long time ago.” Tara turned back, watching Chloe climb the stairs. “Don’t go up there, sugar. It’s far too dusty; you’ll aggravate your asthma.”
“I’m already aggravated, and not by my asthma.” But Chloe pulled the neckline of her shirt over her mouth. She also kept going up the stairs, and Tara just shook her head.
“Why do I bother?” Tara moved into the kitchen and went still at the condition of it. “Formica countertops,” she said as if she’d discovered asbestos.
Okay, true, the Formica countertops weren’t pretty, but the country blue and white tile floor was cute in a retro sort of way. And yes, the appliances were old, but there was something innately homey and warm about the setup, including the rooster wallpaper trim. Maddie could see guests in here at the big wooden block table against the large picture window, which had a lovely view of… the dilapidated marina.
So fine, they could call it a blast from the past. Certainly there were people out there looking for an escape to a quaint, homey inn and willing to pay for it.
“We need elbow grease, and lots of it,” Chloe said, walking into the kitchen, her shirt still over her nose and mouth.
Maddie wasn’t afraid of hard work. It was all she knew. And envisioning this place all fixed up with a roaring fire in the woodstove and a hot, delicious meal on the stovetop, with cuteness spilling from every nook and cranny, made her smile. Without thinking, she pulled out the Blackberry she could no longer afford and started a list, her thumbs a blur of action. “New paint, new countertops, new appliances…” Hmm, what else? She hit the light switch for a better look, and nothing happened.
Tara sighed.
Maddie added that to the list. “Faulty wiring—”
“And leaky roof.” Tara pointed upward.
“There’s a bathroom above this,” Chloe told them. “It’s got a plumbing issue. Roof’s probably leaking, too.”
Tara came closer and peered over Maddie’s shoulder at her list. “Are you a compulsive organizer?”
At the production studios, she’d had to be. There’d been five producers—and her. They’d gotten the glory, and she’d done the work.
All of it.
And until last week, she’d thrived on it. “Yes. Hi, my name is Maddie, and I am addicted to my Blackberry, office supplies, and organization.” She waited for a smartass comment.
But Tara merely shrugged. “You’ll come in handy.” She was halfway out of the room before Maddie found her voice.
“Did you know Mom didn’t want to sell?” she asked Tara’s back. “That she planned on us running the place as a family?”
Tara turned around. “She knew better than that.”