Chapter 1

Twenty years later...

Harry Gladstone left Main Street Architect and Construction with a blueprint tube under his arm. Mike McGregor had come through for him. He’d asked him back in July to draw up some plans to expand his ancestral home, the Gladstone Bed and Breakfast, with 50 more rooms; 25 on each side while maintaining the look and style of the old Victorian mansion and expanding the dining room to a full fine-dining restaurant.

Yes, it would cost him, but his dream of owning and operating the premier, upscale country inn would be a reality.

Now all he had to do was get the plans submitted to the planning commission and get his remodel permits. Then Mike and the construction team could get started. Soon Gladstone Bed and Breakfast would be The Gladstone Inn and Minuette’s Fine Dining Restaurant. Not only would he fulfill his dreams, but also help his sister escape the drudgery that their father had trapped her in, to fulfill her dreams as well. What man in his right mind would insist that a three-degree Chef return home to run a stupid fifties-style diner? His father, the Honorable Mayor Harold (Hal) Jefferson Gladstone the Fourth, that’s who.

Harry jumped in his suburban and drove to the employee parking at City Hall. He had the sticker because he was supposed to be Hal’s chosen replacement for Mayor, and was given the rights of Mayor already. Normally Harry didn’t use those rights, because he had no intention of becoming the Mayor of Gladstone. He wanted to be a simple, yet quality innkeeper, and nothing, not Hal and his talk of destiny and responsibilities to the Gladstone legacy or guilt, was going to keep him from his dream. He jumped out of the old 4x4 and, snagging the blueprint tube, headed to the planning office to register his building plans and pull the necessary remodel and building permits to start work on the expansion. He smiled at Gladys and handed her the tube. “Hey Gladys, I need to file these plans and pull both a remodel and a building permit for the Estate, please.”

Gladys frowned. “Are you making changes to the Bed and Breakfast, Harry? I don’t remember Hal saying anything about that.”

Harry gritted his teeth and forced his hands to relax from the tight fists they’d curled into. “That’s because Hal doesn’t know yet. He has no say over the estate. Grandma Gladstone left the estate to me and me alone. You know that. Heck, everyone in town knows that.”

“I do know that Harry Gladstone, and don’t you take that tone of voice with me.” The gray updo started swinging left to right as Gladys’ head rocked from side to side in her aggravated state. “While she may have left it to you, we both know that your father expects you to run your improvements past him. It is his legacy and your sister’s, uncle’s, and cousin’s as well. Don’t think I’m going to let you file these behind his back and pull those permits without him having a chance to look at them.”

With that, she picked up the phone and started dialing. Harry knew she was calling Josephine, his father’s secretary, who would then text him over at the diner. “Gladys, you have no right to hold up my permits. Don’t make me make a call of my own. I’ll call Bernie if you make me, and report that the city planning office is refusing me permits that I’ve submitted proper paperwork and blueprints for, on property I rightly own. What do you think the City Lawyer is going to tell you will happen to your job?”

Gladys glared at him and spoke into the phone. “Josephine, you need to get Mayor Hal to haul his buns over here to the planning office lickety-split. Harry is threatening me with legal action if I don’t give him permits to make changes out at the Gladstone Estate.”

Then she hung up and held out her hand for the paperwork. “Well, Mister Gladstone, give me your plans and paperwork so I can file them and make certain they are proper and fit the zoning of the property in question.”

Harry shook his head; he knew she was going to take her sweet time and Hal would arrive before she’d get them filed and his permits drawn. But he couldn’t stop her from doing her job and he couldn’t fault her for being thorough at it. It was what she was paid to do. Even if they both knew that if Hal had told her this was going to happen, she’d have had those permits waiting when he walked through the door. As much as he respected and admired his dad for the way the city supported their mayor and how he supported the town, he resented that his life wasn’t his to live as he wanted.

Every firstborn male of every generation of Gladstone was named Harold Jefferson Gladstone, given a nickname fitting for Harold, and expected when the last Harold Gladstone was ready to retire as Mayor, the new one would step up and run for the office. No one but a Gladstone had been Mayor of Gladstone since before Grandpa Harold had died saving Minuette Vaugner from drowning. It was the “destiny” of each Harold to fulfill the role and the town expected it. The only problem was, Harry didn’t want to be Mayor. Bigger problem still, no one listened to him. It was tradition and even if he didn’t run, he’d be elected when Hal was ready to retire because that’s what Gladstones did.

Just then, like the sudden spring thunderstorm, Hal blew into the room. “Harry, what’s this I hear about you filing plans and pulling permits on the Estate?”

“Dad, I had Mike draw up plans for the expansion Grandma and I had talked about before she passed. I’m just trying to get them filed and the permits so we can get started. I’d like to be done before winter.”