Free Sharing Spaces by Nadia Nichols

of the business. You saw the reservation book. We’re going to be busy as hell. By summer’s end, you won’t have any trouble at all getting rid of your shares. It’d be worth your while to wait, and who knows? You might even enjoy spending the summer here and decide not to sell.”
    Senna regarded him as if he were crazy and shook her head. “I couldn’t get the time off even if I wanted to take it, which I can assure you I don’t.”
    â€œThen I guess you’ll just have to trust me enough to open the lodge and run it. We should be able to clear enough money after two months to keep the bank from foreclosing.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Why would the bank foreclose? Is there a mortgage?”
    â€œConstruction loan. We’re four months in arrears of making payments on it. The admiral’s medical bills were pretty steep and the insurance payments take forever to come, so we had no choice but to take out a—”
    â€œHow big a construction loan?” Her voice was way too quiet.
    â€œForty thousand,” Jack said, tensing for the explosion, “but we have a three-year pay-back period and a good interest rate.”
    Her expression never changed. She just stood for several moments with her hands on her hips, still as a statue. “Now would probably be a really good time for you to tell me you studied hotel management at Cornell,” she said in that same ominously quiet voice, “or graduated top of your class from Johnson and Wales.”
    Jack glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen, detecting a whiff of something burning. “Now would probably be an even better time for you to turn those caribou steaks.”
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    S ENNA OVERCOOKED THE CARIBOU and the baked potatoes were equally dry, but the canned corn was heated to perfection. Conversation at the table was limited to such requests as “please pass the salt, the pepper or the butter.” Cutlery scraped on ironstone. Chewing was conducted with matching scowls of intense concentration. Chilkat appeared to be the only attendee enjoying the supper from his hiding place beneath the kitchen table, where, believing he was unobserved, Jack would slip him the toughest pieces of meat. Senna finished whatshe could and then laid her silverware across her plate. “I’m sorry about the meal.”
    â€œIt was great,” Jack said, as if he really meant it. At least he had the good manners to pretend.
    Senna dabbed her mouth with a paper towel and cleared her throat. “There is another option for us to consider as far as this partnership goes.” She crumpled the paper towel in her hand and met his wary gaze. “We could have the entire business appraised right down to its individual components. Airplane, fishing lodge, this house, the trucks, the dogs and gear, the workshop. Then we’d divvy it up in such a way that’s fair. That way nothing will be shared jointly, I’ll be able to sell my half much faster and easier, and you’ll own your portion outright. No partner for you to have to deal with. I’ll even give you my half of the plane.”
    His response was a firm and immediate “No.”
    â€œYou might at least consider it.”
    Jack leaned back in his chair with a shake of his head. “Not a happening thing. This place stays just the way the admiral wanted it to be. It doesn’t get hacked to pieces just because you want to run back to Maine with a quick chunk of change. I warned you I wouldn’t make this easy for you, and I won’t. A man’s lifelong dream isn’t just something you try to dispose of in two weeks, even if he is dead. And you might at least consider seeing what he created before you decide you want to get rid of your half.”
    â€œI could petition for partition and force you to divide the property or agree to sell it in its entirety and split the money,” she challenged. “The courts would