Merry with a Tycoon (The Love Beach Holiday Collection)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

PRESTON

Long shadows stretch across my office as I sign the last document of the day, the setting sun casting a warm glow to the windows. I lean back in my chair, loosening my tie, and allow myself a moment to think about tonight.

Dinner with Crystal.

Last night’s impromptu dinner at her apartment plays through my mind like a favorite movie. The warmth of her tiny kitchen, the rich aroma of beef stew, the way her eyes sparkled as she checkmated me.

I didn’t want the evening to end, didn’t want to stop watching the way she bit her lip when she was considering her next move.

Who would have thought Crystal would get under my skin like this? I close my eyes and picture her: that long brown hair she always keeps in a ponytail. I find myself wondering what it would look like cascading down her shoulders, wondering if it’s as soft as it looks. Her smile, bright and genuine, so different from the polished smirks I’m used to seeing at business functions. And her figure... I shift in my seat, remembering how distracting it was watching her play elf at the Winter Wonderland event, all curves and grace in that adorable costume.

A commotion outside my office pulls me from my reverie and I hear Stella’s voice, uncharacteristically flustered. “Miss Francia, you can’t just–”

The door bursts open, and there’s Crystal, her face flushed with anger, eyes blazing. Any other time, I’d be struck by how beautiful she looks, all fire and fury. But the rage in her eyes stops me cold.

“Crystal? What’s wrong?” I stand, concern etching my features.

“What’s wrong?” she echoes, her voice trembling with anger. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Preston. You used me. The Santa act, dinner with a normal person, the chess game—it was all just a cruel joke, wasn’t it?”

I’m stunned, completely at a loss. The memory of our evening together flashes through my mind—her laughter, the warmth in her eyes as we played chess, the spark I felt when our hands touched. How could she think any of that was a joke?

“What are you talking about?”

She lets out a bitter laugh as she tosses an envelope on the desk in front of me. “Oh, don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

With shaking hands, I pick up the envelope and pull out the letter inside. As I scan its contents, my blood runs cold. It’s from Hollister Property Management, the subsidiary that manages Seaside Square. The letter outlines a rent increase—not just any increase, but a threefold hike. Those unable to meet the new rate are being ordered to vacate.

For a moment, I’m confused.

I didn’t approve this.

Then it hits me. This must be what Teddy was talking about the other day, her “brilliant” strategy to increase the company’s income tenfold and prove to me that she can be an asset to the company. As my cousin’s smug face flashes in my mind, I feel a surge of anger—at Teddy, at myself for not paying closer attention.

“Crystal, this is a misunderstanding. I had no idea about this,” I say. “Let me make some calls, I can fix–”

“Save it,” she cuts me off, her voice sharp enough to make me wince. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. God, I can’t believe I actually thought you’d changed, Preston. That you cared about the community and about...” she trails off, but I hear the unspoken word: ‘me’.

I step around my desk, reaching out to her. The need to touch her, to reassure her, is almost overwhelming. “Crystal, you have to believe me. I would never?—”

She takes a step back, and the hurt in her eyes feels like a physical blow. “I really thought you’d changed for the better,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe how wrong I was. And I hate that I actually started to believe it.”

Before I can say another word, she turns and walks out, leaving me standing there, the damning letter still in my hand. The soft click of the door closing behind her seems to echo in the sudden, oppressive silence of my office.

I sink into my chair, running a hand through my hair. I need to fix this, and not just with Crystal. This rent hike could devastate Seaside Square, destroying small businesses that are the lifeblood of our community. The very community I’ve been trying to connect with, to understand better since that night as Santa.

I reach for my phone, ready to dial Teddy’s number and demand an explanation. But as my finger hovers over the call button, I pause. No, this requires more than just a phone call. This is Teddy we’re dealing with here, and I should have known better than to let her do whatever she wanted in the name of increasing profits.

Javi joins me in the parking garage, a concerned expression on his face. I’ve long ago stopped wondering how he knows my movements; after all, it’s his job. “Where are you going?”

“Teddy’s townhouse.”

He arches an eyebrow. “What did she do now?”

I exhale. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

He nods. It’s not the first time we’ve had to pay Teddy a visit at her townhouse, the one piece of property my mother allowed her to use after her parents temporarily cut her off from the family funds.

She needs a place to stay if she’s to work for us, Preston , Mother had told me two months ago. I can’t let my niece live on the streets, can I?

I doubt she’ll get to that point, not with her friends, I said. I’m sure they’d let her stay with them .

But that’s the problem, Preston , Mother said. Her friends were only her friends because she was paying for everything. And for what? So she can be like Vivian with her millions of followers.

She doesn’t have millions, Mother. Okay, she has 1.5 million as of two months ago, but that’s not the point.

Mother sighed. I don’t get young people today.

I’m young , I said.

But you’re different, Preston , Mother said. You’re… responsible.

Maybe that’s the problem, I muse as Javi opens the passenger door for me and I get in. I’m too responsible.

I need to let loose some of the time.

But it’s not like I have a choice. With Brogan enlisting in the Navy after graduating from college—he majored in business, for crying out loud, since the plan was for him to join me in running the company alongside our father—there was no one else to run the company after Father died of a heart attack.

A widow maker, they called it.

As Javi navigates the evening traffic, I lean back in the leather seat, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Stress led to my father’s untimely death, and I’m sure this latest development isn’t helping my stress any as well.

In fact, Teddy’s latest stunt with the rent increases is just the tip of the iceberg. How did we get here? How did I let things spiral so far out of control?

I think back to Mother’s decision to give Teddy a job. At the time, it seemed like a reasonable solution. Give the wayward socialite a chance to prove herself, to learn the value of real work. But I should have known better. Teddy’s always been more interested in appearances than substance, more concerned with her follower count than actual business acumen.

And she’d downright refused to start at the bottom, not even to learn the basics about how Hollister Properties is run.

My fingers absently trace the outline of a small, carved wooden box in my pocket. It’s one of the trinkets I bought from Crystal’s shop, ostensibly as a gift for Vivian, or so I told her then. Only I kept it. Women like Vivian prefer Berkins and Cartier to handcrafted trinkets from small-town shops. They value brand names over artistry, price tags over sentiment. It’s a world where everything is measured in carats and commas, where a gift’s worth is determined by its ability to impress rather than its capacity to touch the heart.

I never realized how much I longed for something genuine until I started frequenting Crystal’s shop. At first, it was just a novelty—a quaint local business that sold unique gifts. But over time, without me even noticing, it became something more.

Crystal. The thought of her sends a pang through my chest. The hurt in her eyes when she confronted me about the rent increase... it’s an image I can’t shake. For the past couple of years, her shop has been a sanctuary of sorts. A place where I could shed the weight of the Hollister name, if only for a few minutes. Where a smile and a “How can I help you today, Mr. Hollister?” felt genuine, not calculated.

“You okay, boss?” Javi’s voice breaks through my reverie.

I straighten in my seat, my professional mask sliding back into place. “Fine, Javi. Just thinking about how to handle this mess.”

But as we pull up to Teddy’s townhouse, my mind wanders again to Crystal. To the chess game, to the way her eyes lit up when she checkmated me. I let her win, of course, but not without a fight. I couldn’t bear to see the evening end, to leave the warmth of her tiny apartment and return to my cold, empty mansion.

For years, I’ve done what was expected of me. Took over the company when Father died, stepped up when Brogan chose a different path. I’ve been the responsible one, the steady hand at the helm of the Hollister empire. But sitting there in Crystal’s mismatched living room, laughing over beef stew and bad jokes, I felt something I haven’t in years: a connection. A spark of something real.

And now, because of Teddy’s recklessness, I might have lost that before it even had a chance to truly begin.

I know why Teddy picked Seaside Square as her first pet project. It’s the only commercial property we’ve never raised rents on—and with good reason.

Well, two good reasons that from a business standpoint, doesn’t make any sense.

I’ve always known the building needed a major overhaul—hell, it should be razed to the ground so we can start over with something that’s more in line with the Hollister brand. We could bring in shops with more brand recognition and charge rents so high none of the existing shop owners could ever afford, not even Crystal.

But I can’t do that and I suspect, neither can my mother. Like me, she knows Seaside Square is special. It’s the first retail property my father bought with his own money—not Mother’s money that included the hotels along the Boardwalk and many others all over the country. He fixed it up himself, keeping the beachside feel of it with its muted colors and and weathered wood siding.

I run my hand along the railing as I climb the steps to Teddy’s townhouse overlooking the beach, remembering the stories my father used to tell. How he’d work on the Square every weekend, determined to prove to my mother’s family that he was worthy of her. The Hollisters might have been old money, but Thomas Hollister was all grit and determination.

It’s easy to forget sometimes that our family’s wealth originated from my mother’s side. The world sees the Hollister name on our hotels and assumes it’s always been that way. But my father was a blue-collar worker who caught the eye of Lorraine Hollister, much to her father’s chagrin.

Against all odds, against the disapproval of the Hollister patriarch, my parents married. And Seaside Square became a symbol of their love, of my father’s determination to carve out his own place in the Hollister empire.

It’s why we’ve never raised the rents, why we’ve allowed the same families to run their small businesses here for generations. It’s not just a property—it’s my father’s legacy.

I’ve been putting off the renovations, telling myself I was too busy with the Shanghai project. But the truth is, I’ve been afraid of changing something so fundamental to who we are as a family. Afraid of losing that last tangible connection to my father.

As we approach Teddy’s front door, I steel myself. This isn’t just about business anymore. It’s about making things right. For the tenants of Seaside Square, for my family’s legacy, and maybe, just maybe, for a chance at something real with Crystal.

“Ready, boss?” Javi asks, his hand poised to knock.

I nod, squaring my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

After Javi knocks on the door, it swings open, revealing Teddy wearing a silk blouse over jeans, a glass of wine in her hand. Music plays loudly from the speakers.

Her eyes widen when she sees me. “Preston? What are you doing here?”

I step inside without waiting for an invitation. “We need to talk.”

She leads us to the living room, a space that screams ‘trying too hard’ with its mix of trendy art pieces and overpriced furniture. She picks up a remote from the coffee table and presses a button, stopping the music.

“So what’s this about?” she asks as she gestures for us to sit down.

Choosing to remain standing, I clear my throat. “We’re here about the rent increases at Seaside Square.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, that. I was just trying to maximize our profits, Preston. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not like this,” I say, my voice stern. “Do you have any idea of the damage you’ve caused?”

“What damage?” she exclaims, looking surprised “Seaside Square could use a hike in rent, Preston. The place is a dump.”

“Boss, I’ll wait outside,” Javi says as he makes his way to the front door, “give you two some privacy to discuss business.”

“I understand your desire to want to prove yourself a capable businesswoman, but this isn’t the way to go about it,” I begin as soon as Javi steps outside. “I admit, I should have talked to you the moment my mother gave you the position, but I didn’t and so I’m taking responsibility for this.”

Her eyes narrow as she eyes me suspiciously. “So what are you going to do?”

“Seaside Square isn’t just another property. It’s part of our family’s legacy.”

Teddy rolls her eyes. “Legacy? Please. It’s a run-down strip mall that’s barely turning a profit. We could tear it down, build something modern, and triple our income overnight.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Is this how the rest of the family sees my father’s hard work? As nothing more than a liability on our balance sheet?

“That ‘run-down strip mall’ was the first property your uncle bought with his own money,” I say, my voice low and intense. “It’s where he proved himself worthy of marrying into the Hollister family. And those businesses you’re so eager to kick out? They’re part of this community. They matter.”

Teddy scoffs, taking another sip of her wine. “Community? Since when do you care about that? All you ever talk about is expansion and profit margins.”

Her words sting because there’s a kernel of truth to them. I have been focused on growth, on living up to the Hollister name. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten where we came from.

“I care more than you think,” I say quietly. “And it’s time I started showing it. The rent increases are off the table. We’re going to renovate the square.”

“Renovate?” Teddy interrupts, her eyebrows shooting up. “Now you’re talking! We can finally tear down that eyesore and build something worthy of the Hollister name. Another hotel?”

I shake my head firmly. “No, Teddy. We’re going to renovate while preserving the character and history of the place. We’ll update the infrastructure, improve the facades, but keep the essence of what makes Seaside Square special.”

Teddy’s face falls. “But that’s not going to increase our profits!”

“Not everything is about immediate profits,” I say, my patience wearing thin. “Sometimes, it’s about investing in the community, in our legacy. The long-term benefits will far outweigh any short-term gains from your rent hike scheme.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand to stop her. “This isn’t up for debate. Now what I need you to do is send out a follow-up letter to all the tenants explaining that the rent increase notices were sent in error.”

“When?”

“As soon as possible,” I reply. “I’m also having you reassigned. You’ll start as an assistant to one of our property managers. Learn the business from the ground up.”

Her face falls. “An assistant? But I’m a Hollister!”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Exactly. And Hollisters earn their positions. This is an opportunity, Teddy. To learn, to grow, to truly understand our business from the ground up.”

Teddy’s been throwing the Hollister name around town like it’s a get-out-of-jail-free card, forgetting that our name carries responsibility, not just privilege. It’s time she learned what being a Hollister really means.

“Exactly,” I say, echoing my own words to her from months ago. “And Hollisters earn their positions. This is an opportunity, Teddy. To learn, to grow, to truly understand our business.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then nods grudgingly. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Send me a draft of that follow-up letter before you send it out.” I turn toward the door, ready to leave. “Oh, and Teddy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you for accepting this. It’s a good first step,” I say. “You’re bound for great things.”

As I walk out, I see a small smile on her face although I have a feeling it’s not for me but for Javi who’s waiting by the car.

“Everything sorted?” Javi asks minutes later as he pulls open the passenger door.

I nod, climbing in. “For now. Let’s head back to the office. I’ve got a lot of damage control to do.”

As we drive away, my mind inevitably drifts back to Crystal. I just hope it’s not too late to fix things with her too.