John Howard, president of Hidden Lake’s one and only bank, stood less than five feet from her. As usual, the short man was impeccably dressed—a navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt and gray tie. His full head of brown hair was expertly styled and his black leather shoes polished to a high sheen. Even though he was only a handful of years older than she was, Jenny always got a paternal vibe from him. Maybe it was because he spoke to her in that same kind but I-know-what’s-best-for-you manner her father did. Or maybe it was because of the way he always gave her a pat and soft squeeze on her arm whenever they saw each other. As if reading her thoughts, he reached out and gave her upper arm a friendly squeeze.
“What brings you into the bank on this fine day?”
“Actually . . .” Jenny paused, swallowed. “Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could talk.”
His expression seemed to brighten. “Certainly. Shall we go into my office?” He stretched his arm out, indicating the way. As if she didn’t know. It seemed as if every other month she was making her way down the short hallway and into his office.
She gave him a smile. “Thanks.”
A new picture of his recent halibut fishing trip was on his desk, but other than that, his office was unchanged. The same serviceable oak desk, bookcase, and filing cabinet crowded the small interior. The only thing that kept the room from feeling claustrophobic was the large window that offered an unobstructed view of Hidden Lake. She shifted her weight in the chair and crossed her legs. She didn’t want to be here, but what other choice did she have? This was her problem, and she needed to find the solution.
“What can I do for you today?” Mr. Howard said, lowering himself into the chair behind the desk. “Your loan payment isn’t due for another three weeks, so I know you’re not here to ask for an extension already.”
His tone and smile were sincere, but Jenny still felt herself turning red. “No, I’m not here about an extension, but it is concerning my loan.”
“Yes?”
Her stomach tightened; her palms began to sweat. She had the sudden, insane urge to laugh and jump up, say this was all a silly joke, and flee the room. But this was no joke. And running away wouldn’t get her anywhere or anything except an unwanted partner. She tucked her purse next to her on the seat along with the folder she’d brought in. She squeezed her hands together and resisted the urge to dry her palms off on her skirt. Oh, Steven, I need you. I can’t do this alone.
But she knew she had to. Steven wasn’t here . . . wasn’t coming back . . . and it was up to her to keep their dream alive. She just wished she’d planned a little better for this meeting. Gone over the books . . . looked at the contract she’d brought along . . . ferreted information from her brother about how she should approach the bank. But as usual, she hadn’t done her homework. She’d jumped in headfirst without stopping to look or question or seek advice. This time it was her voice in her head—not her mother’s or her brother’s—that said, Oh, Jennifer.
“I wanted to talk to you about a loan.”
John Howard was all patience. “Go on.”
Jenny took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Well . . . Blue Sky Air is at a critical point in its expansion. The new advertising plan we’ve implemented is showing great promise. Early bookings for the summer season already show a positive growth. Plus, we are confident that the weekend getaway packages we’ve negotiated with hotels and B and Bs on the nearby islands are going to garner strong interest. Blue Sky should see a sharp increase in profits this year.” She didn’t know why she was using plural pronouns, but somehow it made everything sound so much . . . bigger. More official. There was no we any longer. Just she. The new ideas had been hers. Succeed or fail, it all rested on her. But the business was showing an increase. This time last year she only had one scheduled charter. As of today, she had two, and in her mind that was a fifty percent increase. Sharp