He raised an eyebrow. “And this is a special occasion?”
She felt her cheeks warm. “Well, the island’s still standing after a hurricane. My roof’s fixed. And…” She hesitated, then continued, “And we’re friends again. That seems pretty special to me.”
His smile softened. “It is. And I’d love to come in.”
They climbed the steps to her porch, and she unlocked the door. The cottage welcomed them with its familiar coziness. She moved to the kitchen while Cliff waited in the living room. As she returned, she saw him taking in the photos on her walls and the books on her shelves.
She nodded toward the porch. “It’s nice enough to sit outside, don’t you think?”
They settled into the wicker chairs on her porch, a gentle breeze rustling the palm fronds in her yard. For a moment, they simply sipped their wine, enjoying the peace of the early evening.
“I heard something interesting…” she said finally, turning to look at him.
“Oh?”
“Mm-hmm. I heard that someone started a hurricane recovery fund for families on the island who don’t have insurance or enough savings to repair their homes.” She watched his expression carefully. “I heard that someone donated a substantial amount to get it started and has been quietly organizing volunteers to help with repairs.”
He shifted in his chair, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Is that right?”
“That’s what I heard,” she confirmed. “And apparently this mysterious benefactor specifically asked not to be named.”
He took a long sip of his wine. “People like to talk in small towns.”
“They do,” she agreed. “Especially when someone who’s been away for a long time comes back and starts doing good things for the community.”
His eyes met hers. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I think it is,” she said gently. “Why don’t you want people to know?”
He sighed and set his glass down on the small table between them. “Because I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to buy goodwill for my development project.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“No.” His response was immediate and firm. “The hurricane changed things. Seeing what this community went through, how everyone pulled together…” He shook his head. “I realized that whatever happens with the development, these are good people who need help now.”
She nodded as a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the wine.
“The fund is one thing,” he continued. “But honestly, it needs more money than what I’ve been able to put in. There are at least eight families who need significant help, and there’s only so much I can do.”
“Have you thought about doing a fundraiser?” she asked.
He chuckled. “About a hundred times. But I don’t know the first thing about organizing something like that. Corporate events, sure. But a community fundraiser?” He shook his head. “That’s not my territory.”
She gave him a little smile. “It’s mine, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve helped organize events for the town before. The summer festival, the Christmas market, that sort of thing.” She set her glass down. “I could help you put together a fundraiser for the recovery fund.”
He looked at her with surprise. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would. This town is my home. And those families need help. I could ask Tori if we could do it at the theater,” she continued, the ideas already forming in her mind. “Once the basic repairs are done. Tori would love to host something like that—it would be a perfect way to reintroduce the space to the community.”
“That’s… actually a really good idea,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “We could get local businesses to donate items for a silent auction. Maybe have some local musicians perform.”
“Exactly!” A spark of excitement gathered inside her. “And food—we could get several restaurants involved. People are always more generous on a full stomach.”
“So you’ll really help me with this?”
