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fly.
    â€œI’d say he’s on board with most of them,” she said.
    â€œMost, but not all?”
    Emma chewed her lip. She’d only said “most” because she wanted her answer to sound plausible. The truth was, Clifton Fairholm didn’t think much of any of the changes she was proposing. But then, she thought, her assistant manager probably wouldn’t agree to add indoor plumbing if there’d been a choice.
    â€œWell, you know Clifton.” She chuckled. “Always a stickler for historical accuracy. Anything new puts his knickers in a twist.”
    Grader pursed his lips. “So, he’s had some objections?”
    â€œA few. Yeah.”
    She squirmed. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask.
    â€œMay I ask which ones?”
    Emma sighed. If she hadn’t been so desperate, she’d have gathered up her financial statements, told Grader what he and his committee could do with their money, and walked out. As it was, however, she didn’t think she could stay in business much longer without it. If she didn’t turn things around soon, she’d be forced to sell the Spirit Inn to pay her creditors. It’d be like losing Gran all over again.
    â€œWhat about the coffee bar?” Grader prompted.
    She realized that she’d dug her fingernails into the arms of the chair and released her grip. Relax, Emma told herself. There were good reasons behind every penny she was asking for. Grader was only doing his job. This wasn’t personal; it was just business.
    â€œHe thinks it’s unnecessary,” she said. “He says we already serve coffee in the restaurant.”
    Grader considered that. “Does he have a point?”
    â€œYes, but people like coffee bars. Having to go into the restaurant, wait for a table, and then sit down to order is a hassle when all you want is a latte while you read a book.”
    The banker’s face was impassive. “Anything else?”
    She took a deep breath. “The automated key cards. Clifton thinks they’ll ‘diminish the historic ambience’ of the inn,” she said, making air quotes with her still-stiff fingers.
    â€œWon’t they?”
    Emma frowned. She’d have thought that improving the hotel’s security was a no-brainer. Was Grader just trying to be difficult?
    â€œDid they have key cards in the nineteenth century?” she said. “No, but people want to know their stuff is safe when they leave their rooms. Plus, guests steal our keys all the time.”
    Grader seemed taken aback. “Surely not.”
    â€œOkay, maybe steal isn’t the right word. Let’s just say that a significant percentage of our guests leave without returning their keys, which means that before I can rent the room again I have to get a locksmith to come out, replace the lock, and make new keys for everyone on staff.”
    â€œYou could charge the guest for that.”
    â€œI could,” she said, feeling her temper rise. “But I’d have to spend a lot of time on the phone listening to them complain about it, and in the end we’d probably lose the chance to have them back. Believe me, the costs are significant.”
    â€œMore than an automated system?”
    Emma was losing patience. She’d gone in there with a simple business proposal. Why the inquisition?
    â€œObviously not,” she said, “but there are some things that our guests want and need that can’t be amortized. ”
    She saw heads turning her way and shrank back.
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œThat’s all right,” he said. “I know you feel strongly about this, but a well-run hotel shouldn’t have to borrow to cover its overhead, and there’s no guarantee that any of the changes you’re proposing will improve your financial position. Unless and until the Spirit Inn can show a profit, I don’t see how we can give you another infusion of cash. It’s just