He had considered admitting his personal connection with one of the oldest family businesses in town but ultimately chose to wait. It wasn’t a conflict of interest and he didn’t want Levi to have any concerns about his focus or commitment to the real job.
His phone buzzed on the countertop and seeing Levi’s image, he snapped it up. “Lynwood,” he answered.
“Hey, you made it.” Levi sounded happier every time they spoke. Cal couldn’t quite suppress his jealousy. “Welcome to Brookwell. Everything good at the apartment?”
“Yes.” He leaned back against the countertop, admiring the whole space again. “Thanks for the heads-up. It’s perfect.”
“No trouble with the law or anything?”
“Wow.” Cal strolled toward the windows, thinking he should’ve made note of security cameras on the street. “News travels fast around here.”
Levi chuckled. “It does. Although it was the grapevine-express for me. The owner of the apartment is Willow’s best friend.”
“Your fiancée called the cops on me?”
“No. Grace Teague owns the Beach Belle and when the cops notified her about the mix-up, she called Willow.”
“Sounds like a small town doing their best work,” Cal grumbled.
“Uh-huh. Care to tell me why I had to hear about your history with Grace through Willow?”
Cal did some quick mental gymnastics. Levi was a client. His most-important client. With years of history, they interacted more as friends now, but Cal tried to mind the boundaries.
“I haven’t seen her since college,” he managed, keeping his voice even. Her story wasn’t his to share. If Levi knew anything about Grace’s education getting cut short, it would be from sources other than Cal. “We were close back then, but my feelings for her are irrelevant to your priorities.”
It was true. Reconnecting with Grace, building a bridge strong enough that she’d accept his help, wouldn’t have any bearing on his work for Levi.
“If you’re sure.”
“One hundred percent.”
“Great,” Levi declared. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cal slipped the phone into his pocket. Restless, he thought about taking a walk and changed his mind. No sense dragging the cops out again tonight. Better to just get to work.
He carried his laptop bag to the big chair and got comfortable. Thanks to the instructions from the property manager, he was soon online and checking his office email for any urgent messages.
With no easy distraction to be found, he reviewed his notes on the new Palmetto Perk before poking at his initial ideas for Grace and the Beach Belle. He wasn’t delusional. He wouldn’t just march into her boutique tomorrow and hand over a portfolio of ideas to enhance her bottom line.
The Grace who lived in his memory was vibrant and energetic, proud of the business her grandmother had built.Though he hadn’t seen her in years, he knew she would be devastated if she failed that legacy.
This apartment confirmed his suspicions that their roles had reversed. Back in college, he’d hidden his insecurities behind big dreams and bravado. Unlike Grace, who’d attended Duke by choice with the help of her family of smart money managers, he’d been skating by on scholarships, grants, and loans.
When she’d returned home to care for her mother, part of him expected her to return. Within a couple of weeks, maybe a semester. Of course, she hadn’t. Her mother’s illness had been all-consuming and she’d shut him out. Shut out the world.
Calvin had doubled down on his studies, made the most of every opportunity. He might’ve started at Duke on an empty bank account, feeling like an imposter, but by graduation day, he’d had a job, a dream, and a plan to make it come true. He’d gone out and earned the money, the title, the confidence. He’d built the life he believed Grace needed and become the man she could rely on.
And somehow never found the courage to test his success and show up on her doorstep to offer her everything.
He wasn’t sure which was worse: him hiding in his career or her stuck working the family business and clearly struggling to keep her head above water.
He wasn’t here to romance her or find out if anything remained of their original spark. Not yet. His first focus was to stage a rescue, preferably designed in a way that she thought it was her idea.
Grace Teague was too independent to just ask for help, but she clearly needed it. And he finally had the wealth and means to give it to her. He’d just bought the corporate lease to her apartment, effectively forcing his way into her life. Now, he just had to convince her to be okay with him sticking around. At least until she was back on her feet.
CHAPTER 4
The Atlantic Ocean didn’t care about Grace’s racing heart or the fact that her past had just parked itself above the Beach Belle. No, the waves kept rolling in, a rhythmic, salty pulse that usually served as her greatest comfort.
