“This hotel is in my blood, but I love it for many reasons far beyond that. I love that we care about each location and work to ensure the city and it’s history is reflected in the architecture, and that we find ways to give back in each community because that was where we started—where our roots were planted. I love the company, and I’ve always dreamed of becoming the CEO, and that’s what I want to do, but right now, I want to finish school. I want to play football. I want my last two years. And I also want to take lead on the San Francisco project. And when I’m done with it, you’re going to know you didn’t make a mistake by choosing me because it’s going to become our flagship in the States. It’s going to become the hotel that everyone wants to travel to and see with renowned restaurants and luxury. It’s going to be amazing, and I’m going to do it while living in Seattle and finishing my education at Brighton.”
“This was not our deal,” Dad says, throwing his napkin to the table as he stands to level the playing field.
“But it should have been, and it is now.”
Dad tips his chin. “Lewis has more experience. He’s older, more qualified.”
I shake my head. “And I’ll never be able to compete with that. I can’t make myself age ten years overnight. He will always have more experience than me. Always.” I punctuate the word, my voice rising. “But it’s not his name or his family’s legacy that fails if he does. I have worked my entire life to try and be good enough, and if you can’t see that, then you never are.”
Grandad clears his throat, setting his spoon down. “What is this nonsense about Lewis? Lewis isn’t a Banks.” Though his words support my position, I want to argue that my name isn’t the sole reason I deserve to be my father’s successor.
“It’s more than that. The hotels are my childhood—my life. I want to live up to this legacy our family has built. I want to continue to make the name Banks Hotel something that makes us proud, our employees proud, and the communities we’re in proud.”
“How are you going to do that with football and being distracted?”
Distracted. He still won’t say her name.
“Football has taught me teamwork, brotherhood, and discipline. I was a good football player when I started, and now, I’m getting news stories. I’ve earned a starting position. I don’t need you to be proud of me but it should make you realize how hard I’ve worked for this and recognize that I have that same determination and drive that I’ll be applying as the CEO.”
Grandad leans back in his chair, his attention moving to Dad.
“What about her?” Dad asks.
I scoff. “If you met Chloe, you wouldn’t be asking me this question. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. She told me to come. I wasn’t going to come with you.”
He blinks too fast, revealing his shock.
“Chloe,” I say her name again. “Her name is Chloe. And she’s bloody brilliant and motivated and has more drive in her little finger than half of our general managers. She isn’t a threat to me or the business. She’s the promise I’m going to continue to improve and grow and work harder every day because I want to work to be the man she deserves.”
Dad stares at me, and I wonder if he has any idea what I’m saying, if mum ever inspired him in the same ways that Chloe inspires me. If it’s possible he ever felt even a fraction of what I do for her. I don’t think so, considering I know I will go to the grave and whatever is beyond loving Chloe. It’s not the kind of love that fizzles or wanes. Instead, over the past two years, it has grown and become a force that refused to allow me to try and ignore it any longer, so great it can’t be contained solely in my heart, but in my soul and my brain, and every cell of my body. It reflects in my thoughts and decisions, and I know it will continue to guide me.
“You realize what this job will do to a relationship, right? What it did to your mother and me? You’re going to be living out of a suitcase for long periods of the year, missing birthdays and date nights. You won’t know the names of your neighbors or be there when she has a bad day.”
Grandad clears his throat, regret etched across his aging face. “I want to tell you he’s wrong,” he says, looking sorrowful.
“I don’t have all the answers. Not yet, not now, but I do know that my love for her will make me a better leader.”
“Go,” Grandad says, waving a hand. “You should go. Take these years. Try and figure it out.”
I cut my gaze to Dad, who appears lost in memories. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”
Anger surges in my chest, barely holding on to the reminder that his approval doesn’t matter at all when it comes to Chloe.
“I’ll keep you both apprised on San Francisco and can help you choose a new management company to replace Avery.”
“Focus on your education,” Grandad says. “Change is scary but necessary for us to remain the leading luxury resort, and the only way for us to do that is to learn and grow.”
“I’ll set some appointments up with you,” Dad counters.
I nod, and without another word, I take my bags to the front door where a car awaits.
32
Chloe
“Reality kind of sucks with having to wash our own laundry,” Nessie says, folding a pair of jeans from one of the two laundry baskets filled with clean clothes between us.
I chuckle. “I thought for sure you were going to say it was the beds you missed most.”
“That too.” She leans toward the small
