“What’s that?” asked Jules.
Rose sighed. “Used to be Shell Cove Donuts. They made dozens of flavors. People would come from all over for the variety. But when the tourist trade dried up, they had to close.”
“They were set up for high volume. Couldn’t survive on the dribs and drabs from the town and the people that come to fish,” Leena added.
“But no worries,” Pearl said. “We have a plan. With the hotel being renovated now, we can bring in tourists. In fact, we’re having a town meeting with the business owners to make a plan.”
Jules swiveled in her seat. “A meeting?”
“Yeah, you know, like a town meeting. We can discuss how to revitalize the town.”
“I suppose that could be good.” Jules thought it was a great idea. She needed the town to be revitalized if they were going to get guests at the motel. “I’m sure Maddie will like that.”
“Indeed, she can bring her day planner and schedule things for us.”
“It will be a potluck supper, of course,” Rose said.
“Potluck supper?” Jules had been picturing something a little more formal, like maybe in the town hall with gavels to call the meeting to order and podiums to speak at. But maybe in small towns like Shell Cove they did things differently.
“Yes, that’s how we’ve always done things. Well, when we used to have meetings back in the day,” Rose said. “I’ve always found there is a much better turnout when food is involved.”
“Uh-huh, and we’ll all bring our signature dishes, of course.” Pearl was practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“Signature dishes?” Jules could barely boil water, and she knew Gina and Maddie weren’t any better at it. Would they be expected to bring a signature dish?
“Of course!” Leena said. “Everyone has a signature dish. Mine is deviled eggs. Rose makes the most unusual coleslaw. Deena brings chocolate, naturally. And your grandmother used to bring the best pies.”
“She did make good pies.” Jules remembered that her grandmother would make elaborate pies for every family gathering. She’d tried to teach Jules how to do it once, but that had been a disaster. Pie crust required too much patience for Jules’s liking. She doubted she could bring a pie to the town meeting. “I’ll have to see what we can do. We aren’t really—really set up at the motel for baking or anything.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Pearl said as Rose parked in front of a formal-looking white building. The black sign with gold lettering identified it as the Mariner’s Bank, Shell Cove Branch.
“Do you see Henry in there?” Rose whispered to the ladies in the back seat.
They craned their necks. “I don’t think he’s there. The coast is clear.”
Jules got a bad feeling. “Who is Henry?”
“Oh, don’t worry about him, dear. He’s just an old curmudgeon. He’s the president of the bank, but you won’t have to deal with him. He’s semiretired. I was going to bring you in to meet his grandson, Nick. He’s much nicer.” Rose opened the door and turned to Jules. “Come on. I’ll take you in to meet him.”
Chapter Eight
The interior of the Shell Cove bank looked much as it would have looked eighty years ago. Marble floor, fluted columns, tellers behind gold-barred windows.
Rose’s footsteps echoed on the floor as she led Jules across the empty lobby to a row of mahogany-desked offices.
Only one of them was occupied, and the man sitting behind the desk stood as they approached. He had dark hair that curled around the collar of his starched white dress shirt, whiskey-brown eyes, a tanned face, and an easy smile. “Rose, how nice to see you.”
His gaze drifted to Jules, causing a minor flutter in her chest. Very minor. She had no business getting fluttery about a stranger. She had work to do, and flutters would only get in the way of that.
“Nick, this is Jules Whittier. She inherited the Beachcomber.” Rose glanced behind them, as if avoiding someone, which was odd since they appeared to be the only people there.
“Oh? That’s great.” He came out from behind the desk to shake her hand. He was tall, probably over six feet, and smelled like spices, not in an unpleasant way either. “Nice to meet you. Are you going to try to open it again?”
“Yes.” Much to Jules’s horror, her voice came out a little breathless. She cleared her throat. “That’s why I’m here. I’d like to see about a loan.”
“Oh, great. Have a seat.” Nick gestured to the chair situated in front of the desk. “I can get a chair for you, Rose.”
“Oh, no.” Rose was already backing out of the office, glancing nervously down the row of other offices. “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be out waiting in the car, Jules.”
