As for Caleb, every confession, every kiss, drew her closer to the truth. She loved him.
His kiss was firm, then soft, tasting of something sweet. His arms flexed tight around her, and with one exhale, she let love have its way.
“Have you talked to Simon? Did he tell you?”
“He told me. In fact, let’s go see him.” Caleb kissed her again, then pulled away, smiling. “What are you thinking, Emery Quinn? That your royal invitation has staying power?”
“No, but I’m glad they’re coming back. I was thinking that I like it when you hold me.” She pulled his face to hers for a kiss, then jerked away with an wild exclamation. “Oh my word, I’ve figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” Caleb’s brow furrowed.
“Wait. Let me think.” Emery exited the cottage for the courtyard. “It was something Joanna said. About the missing ads. Caleb, I know why they’re missing. It’s Tobias and his darn terrazzo floors!”
29
EMERY
On the first Saturday in May, Emery walked with Caleb from his place to Port Fressa Avenue, claiming it was nothing more than a pre-dinner walk.
Cassidy noted, more than once, that Caleb was overdressed in his blue pullover, khakis, and brown suede oxfords. “And Emery too.” She gave her navy blue print dress the once-over while she cut tomatoes for a salad. “Are y’all coming back for dinner?”
Emery gave her grace, though. Since Cassidy came back to Sea Blue Beach, she was desperate to make up for lost time. She cooked, cleaned, shopped, took her mom to lunch. Still, the road home was far from smooth.
“We’re grabbing dinner out. Main Street business.” Which was true. Only it was the main street of the Org. Homestead and dinner with a couple of royals. No big deal.
“Are you nervous?” Caleb grabbed Emery’s hand as they started up the hill. “Is Delilah on her way?”
“She’s coming in the Sands’ golf cart. And yes, I’m nervous. And excited.”
“Ever wonder if Prince John and Princess Gemma were a couple of Floridians living across town we’d be friends?”
“Excepttheyare royal, and they live across the Atlantic.” She grinned. “But yeah, I do.”
Walking out from under the evening sunlight soaking Pelican Way onto Port Fressa, where the old oaks and pine trees cast deep shadows over the old brick lane, Caleb and Emery joined Simon and Nadine, Bobby and Wren, and Adrianna from the town council. Duke, Ivan, Mercy, and Adele joined from Main Street since the Org. Homestead was part of their focus.
Emery suggested Paige from the Blue Plate and Misty from Sweet Conversations join the visit since their hard work to cater the royal brunch got destroyed by the trashing.
Caleb had secured the second floor of Alderman’s for supper after the Port Fressa tour. The front windows were boarded up for construction, so there was no concern about raising suspicions about lights shining from atop the old pharmacy.
Chief Kelly was along in plain clothes for, well, all the obvious reasons.
“Do you know how they are arriving?” Emery asked Simon. He and Chief Kelly handled most of the communication with the royal team. Emery would not be writing about this for theGazette.
This week, she confirmed her suspicion about the missing ads. Tobias had indeed been unplugging the ads server to run his terrazzo buffing machine. Since he kept an erratic schedule, the missing ads were also erratic. After a brief discussion with Tobias about this, Emery mandated no maintenance on Tuesday and Saturday nights. Ever.
To be fair, the man felt awful about his faux pas and apologized profusely. Even brought Emery three pounds of fileted sea bass. But the coming months would be about repairing the paper’s reputation and rebuilding advertiser trust.
“They didn’t give details,” Simon said. “We gave them the location; it’s up to them.”
“We don’t even know where they’re staying.” Chief Kelly wore an earpiece to communicate with royal security.
“I’d forgotten the romance of this place.” Wren walked toward the uneven, cracked sidewalk, stubbing her toe on a raised brick. “Are we going to allow Mac to bulldoze this for a golf course? I mean, really.”
“Are we all here?” The group turned to see Prince John and Princess Gemma strolling up the avenue, hand in hand, dressed in jeans and sneakers, the princess in a puff-sleeved red top and the prince in a Tennessee Titans T-shirt. “Do we look local?” he said in a very fine American accent, adding, “Gemma’s been teaching me.”
And just like that, they were all friends, shaking hands and reintroducing themselves, then Caleb took the lead on the requested tour, talking about Florida Cracker architecture, when the Org. Homestead was founded, and what needed to be done to restore the area.
“Most of these homes are a hundred and forty years old, with plumbing and electric from the thirties and forties. The Cracker-style—low-slung, wood-frame with a large porch—are constructed from pine and cypress, maybe oak, milled at Malachi Nickle’s sawmill.”
