It Happened One Week Read Online Free

advertising corporate ladder. Amanda doubted it would be her last.
    A part of her hated the idea of Greg Parsons getting any more credit, when in reality, if the upcoming week proved a success, it would be her doing. A stronger part of her just wanted him gone. She would swallow her pride, along with her ego, if it meant getting the obnoxious man out of her life.
    Now all she had to do was find some other location for the challenge. Which wasn’t going to be easy, considering this was the high tourist season on the Oregon coast.
    Could she do it? Amanda asked herself as she pointed the remote toward the television and darkened the screen.
    You bet.
    Satan’s Cove
    “We’ve got a problem.”
    Dane Cutter stopped in the act of nailing down cedar shingles and glanced over the steep edge of the roof. “So why don’t you tell me something I don’t know?”
    He’d been the proud owner of Smugglers’ Inn for two months. Well, if you wanted to get technical, he and the bank actually owned the century-old landmark building. Since he’d signed the final papers, Dane doubted a single day had gone by that he hadn’t had to overcome some new catastrophe.
    Having paid for an extensive professional inspection of the building that, because of competition from larger, fancier resorts catering to the corporate trade, had fallen into disrepair during his time away from Satan’s Cove, Dane knew the problems he was taking on. And although they were considerable, he’d foolishly expected to have some time to do all the necessary renovations.
    Thus far, he’d tackled the inn’s ancient plumbing and electrical systems, evicted countless field mice and killed more spiders than he cared to think about.
    He’d also replaced the ancient gas oven, replastered the algae-filled swimming pool, and was in the process of replacing the shingles that had blown away during last night’s storm.
    The next thing on his lengthy list—barring any further emergencies—was replacing the ancient gas heater, after which he planned to resand and seal the oak parquet floors in the public rooms, then resurface the tennis court.
    Since reopening last week, he’d reassured himself at least daily that it was just as well potential guests weren’t exactly beating down his door. Although he admittedly needed all the bookings he could get to make the hefty mortgage payments, he also needed time to restore the inn to its former glory.
    Reva Carlson grinned up at him. “Technically it’s a bit of good news and some bad news. I suppose it’s all in how you look at it.”
    “Why don’t you give me the good news first?”
    The way things had been going, after the storm and the burst pipe that had left the inn without water for twenty-four hours, Dane figured he could use a little boost. Hell, what he needed was a miracle. But he was willing to settle for whatever he could get.
    “Okay.” Reva’s grin widened. “It looks as if we’re going to meet this month’s mortgage payment, after all.”
    “We got a booking?” If he’d had his choice, he would have kept the inn closed until all the needed repairs could be done. Unfortunately, his cash flow being what it was, he’d been forced to open for limited occupancy.
    “We’ve sold out the entire place,” Reva revealed proudly.
    She was right. This was definitely a case of good and bad news. “Not including the tower room?” The last he’d looked into the hexagonal-shaped room that boasted a bird’s-eye view of the Pacific Ocean, the wallpaper had been peeling off the walls.
    “Of course not. You’re good, boss, but you’re not exactly a miracle worker. However, every other room, every bed, every last nook and cranny of Smugglers’ Inn is goingto be taken over by some Portland ad agency for an entire week.”
    Dane rapidly went over a mental list of repairs he’d have to accomplish in order to accommodate such a crowd.
    “So, when are these ad people scheduled to arrive, anyway?”
    “You