“I think,” Luke said carefully, “that Margo has her own way of defining what’s important. And sometimes that means making choices that don’t look smart on paper but make perfect sense to her.”
Meg picked up a small shell, turning it over in herfingers. “I’m trying to help, Luke. But I can’t help if I don’t understand what’s really going on.”
“Maybe the best help is just being here,” Luke suggested gently. “Showing her she doesn’t have to handle everything alone. When she’s ready to talk about it, she will.”
“That doesn’t make sense from a business perspective.”
“Not everything valuable can be measured on a spreadsheet, Meg.” There was no judgment in his tone, only a quiet certainty. “Sometimes the purpose of a business isn’t just profit.”
Meg thought about the way locals greeted Margo, the stories she’d heard at the bonfire, the way her grandmother seemed to know everyone’s name and history. “You’re saying it’s more about community than commerce.”
“I’m saying maybe your grandmother’s definition of success is different from what they taught you in business school.” Luke’s smile softened his words. “And maybe that’s worth understanding before trying to fix what might not be broken.”
The sun was lower now, painting the water in shades of orange and pink. Meg found herself oddly reluctant to continue pressing for answers, the tranquility of the hidden cove making corporate urgency seem distant and less important.
“I’ve missed this,” she said instead, gesturing toward the ocean. “Not just the beach, but... this. Moments that aren’t scheduled or productive or strategic.”
Luke nodded. “San Francisco doesn’t have sunsets?”
“It does. I just never seem to notice them.” The admission felt more revealing than she’d intended. “Always hurrying to the next meeting, the next deadline, the next goal.”
“And how’s that working out?” Luke asked, his tone genuinely curious rather than judgmental.
Meg thought about her carefully constructed life—the prestigious job, the minimalist apartment, the professional achievements. She thought about Brad’s constant demands and the promotion track that consumed her waking hours. Success by every measurable standard.
“I don’t know anymore,” she admitted softly.
Luke didn’t immediately respond, giving her answer the space it deserved. Finally, he said, “You know what I remember most about you from high school?”
Meg raised an eyebrow. “My perfect GPA?”
“No.” Luke smiled. “How you used to look at the ocean. Like you were memorizing it, storing it up for later. Even then, I think you knew you were leaving.”
The observation struck uncomfortably close to truth.
“I needed to prove something,” she said, surprised by her own candor. “To my father, maybe. To myself, definitely.”
“And did you? Prove it?”
Meg considered the question with more honesty than she typically allowed herself. “I thought I had.Now I’m not sure what the question was in the first place.”
The confession hung between them, more intimate than Meg had shared with anyone in years. Luke didn’t rush to fill the silence or offer platitudes, and she found herself grateful for that restraint.
Instead, he simply said, “The tide’s coming in. We should head back before we lose the path.”
They made their way carefully around the rocky point, Luke offering his hand at the trickier passages. Each time their fingers touched, Meg felt that same unexpected jolt of awareness she’d experienced in the Beach Shack kitchen. An echo of something she’d thought long forgotten.
Back at the main beach, the evening crowd had thinned as families packed up their belongings and headed home. A few dedicated surfers still rode the waves, silhouetted against the darkening sky.
“Thank you for showing me the cove,” Meg said as they climbed the stairs back to the parking area.
“Anytime.” Luke paused at the top of the stairs, turning to face her. “About Margo... just give her some time. She’s private, but she trusts you. That means something.”
“Does it? Sometimes I feel like I’m the last person she wants involved in her business.”
“You’re family,” Luke said simply. “That matters to Margo more than anything. Even if she doesn’t always show it the way you might expect.”
They reached Meg’s car and once again she foundherself uncertain how to say goodbye. In San Francisco, all her interactions followed clear protocols—handshakes, brief hugs for close colleagues, professional distance carefully maintained. Here with Luke, those rules seemed inadequate, almost artificial.
