Because the Danburys had played so slow, Eron was almost late for his appointment with Clayton Ferns, the owner of the inn.
“Thank you for meeting with me today,” Eron said as they sat down in the kitchen.
“No problem at all. I love to share what little I know about the business.”
“Don’t be so humble. You’ve been doing this for a long time.”
The older man barely acknowledged the compliment. “So what questions do you have for me?”
“What makes this so enjoyable for you? I mean when most people are vacationing, you’re working. Even in your off-season, you’re open and ready to host me and the Danburys.”
“I don’t know anything different, Mr. Lassiter—”
“Please, call me Eron. Mr. Lassiter is a lawyer in New York.”
The innkeeper chuckled. “Then I insist you call me Clayton.”
“Fair enough
