She smoothed her damp skirt along the seam, lining it up with the edge of her knee. She did that when she was little, too, whenever she had to tell me something hard.
“We found an old motor court. Twelve rooms, all on one floor. A courtyard in the middle. Five minutes from the beach on Anna Maria Island. The owners are willing to sell. And the Becks help fund small hospitality projects.”
“And their dinner invitation?”
“They wanted to see a presentation. Richard said if we couldn’t host prospective partners properly, they’d never trust us with their money.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I believed we needed them.”
“What did you tell them about me?”
“That you’d spent your whole life in hotels.”
“Vanessa.”
She looked at the table. “That you’d be advising us.”
“Had I agreed to that?”
“You never let me finish asking.”
“You managed to get hold of three suites, an actress, and a film crew. I imagine you could have managed one more phone call to your mother.”
“The film crew was Richard and a ring light from Amazon, Mom.”
“I’m delighted you economized.”
She almost smiled. So did I. For half a second, I thought we might find our way back.
Then she said, “Will you come to dinner tonight?”
I let the question sit there between us.
“You still want a performance.”
“I want you to hear my proposal.”
“Then bring me the binder.”
“The Becks are leaving tomorrow.”
“Then I suggest you call them before dinner and tell them the truth.”
“Will you be there?”
“As what?”
She couldn’t answer that.
I stood up.
“Take the video down, Vanessa. Today. Tell everyone who received it that I have not endorsed your project. I want that done before dinner.”
“Do you know how humiliating that’s going to be?”
“Yes.”
“Do you even care?”
“Very much,” I said. “I’m still asking you to do it.”
I went upstairs before she could see that my hands were shaking.
Specialty: Quiet Comebacks & Personal Justice
David Reynolds focuses on stories where underestimated individuals regain control of their lives. His writing centers on measured decisions rather than dramatic outbursts — emphasizing preparation, patience, and the long game. His characters don’t shout; they act.