“I did. His Royal Highness Crown Prince John and Her Royal Highness Princess Gemma were available to visit Sea Blue Beach.” She gazed around to ensure she was alone and not being punked. Never mind that she’d told no one about her royal request.
“Indeed I did. Were you serious about a royal visit to Sea Blue Beach? If not, I’ll—”
“Yes, yes, I’m serious. You received my email? You’re really calling from the House of Blue Chamber Office?”
“Yes, ma’am. April twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth are open on their royal highnesses’ diary. If you confirm, we’ll commence with the details. For security reasons, I’m texting you a code with instructions for a private email server.”
Her email. It worked. “Thank you, thank you so much. Please thank the royal family.”
“Excellent. Look for more information this afternoon. I’d like a call this Wednesday at ten a.m. Eastern Standard Time to begin preparations. We don’t have much time to get it all organized. Does that work for you?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” She was shaking, listening, memorizing everything the man said. “Wednesday at ten.” When she hung up, she stood there, stunned and ... more stunned.
The royal family was coming to Sea Blue Beach. This would change everything.
22
CALEB
His speech to the Chamber of Commerce was short and sweet. He’d gone to the dais with the never-ending ocean view behind him. The moment he began to speak, his phone, which he’d left in his jacket’s breast pocket, began to vibrate.
He ignored the first set of buzzes, but the second, third, and fourth were distracting. What was going on? He stumbled over a couple of words. Lost his place. Then glanced at Dad and Mom in the front row to see if they were checking their phones.
Bentley was skating with the Feinbergs. So the vibrating probably wasn’t about him. It probably wasn’t Cassidy. She’d ring their folks in a true emergency. She’d done so once before. Was it Emery?
Across the room, every eye was on him, waiting, appearing impatient by the hesitations of their speaker. The few dozen on their phone did not look alarmed.
His phone went off again, but he ignored it and powered through, delivering his speech without conviction.
“What I learned in Seattle is simple: Trust and respect are paramount to every relationship, to business, to government. This Chamber has supported business growth and recovery for years. It’s time we focus on the East End. Opportunities abound for those who want to open a retail space. Take a chance. There are tax breaks and grants for start-ups. Attracting tourism to the East End is attracting tourism for us all. Which leads me to the biggest chore before us: unifying the East and West Ends. Sea Blue Beach deserves better. How did a simple rivalry between football teams grow into a—”
“We know it was you Nickle High boys who trashed our football field.” The voice came from the back of the room. Caleb kept his head down and continued talking.
“You trashed our beach first.” That was Shift, who’d come to support Caleb.
“With a few plastic bottles and ice cream wrappers. You dumped garbage on our field.”
“I never forgot that smell.” Another voice from the crowd.
From the corner of his eye, Caleb saw Mac move as if he were about to stand, take charge, be the man.
“You’re right,” Caleb said. “Simple high school pranks got out of hand, and somehow between now and then, the growth of the West End and a football rivalry divided us. We’re us and them. The haves and have-nots. The old and the new. Our history is a royal prince and a freed slave working together to build our town. Who are we to tear it apart? Do we really want the West End to break off into their own municipality?” Low, rumbling voices rose from every table. “What will your history be then? That you used to be a town with royal and freedom roots, but now you’re just about hotels, restaurants, tourist spots, and—” He glanced at Mac. “Golf courses?”
“The East End is dead weight,” a voice called out.
“Stop shouting from behind one another.” Caleb stepped to the side of the podium. Healing might as well start now. “Stand up if you have something to say.” From his chair, Simon nodded, approving. Dad sat up a bit taller. “Look, I don’t mean to preach here, but we need something,someoneto bring us together. Sea Blue Beach deserves better.”
“Caleb! Caleb.” Emery burst through the doors, breathless and flushed, hair wild about her shoulders. “The hostess said you were—” She stopped. Froze, really, and glanced around the room. “Um, Emery Quinn,” she said with a deep resonance. “From theSeaBlue Beach Gazette. Am I late?”
Nice save,Quinn.
“You’re just in time,” Caleb said.
He closed out his speech with a couple of platitudes he found on the internet and handed the room over to the Commerce president, Yolanda Vargas, and beelined for Emery.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as they walked out of the Skylight toward the large dock over the water. “The hostess said the meeting was over. To go on in.”
He pulled out his phone. All the calls and texts were from Emery. “What’s going on? Why were you blowing up my phone?”
