“The festival committee gave Levi a seat. Not full voting rights, but?—”
She shoved her windblown hair away from her face. “You can’t be serious.”
Willow winced. “Calvin will fill that seat for Levi. You’re going to see him. A lot.”
Grace swore. This was a nightmare. Cal’s appearance wasn’t a limited-time chance encounter; it put them on a collision course. “I’m the outreach chair this year.”
“I know.”
The Beach Belle had held a seat on the coveted music festival committee for as long as Grace could recall. As far as small-town politics went, the Brookwell music festival committee was second only to the community ownership of the historic Inn. Even the officially elected town council seats were considered slightly less important.
“Thanks for the warning.” Grace tried to let go of the unfairness of it all. None of this was Willow’s fault. Tomorrownight was the first planning meeting for the upcoming festival and she assumed the announcement and introductions to the rest of the committee would be made at that time.
“Levi didn’t push,” Willow said. “It was offered.”
“I’m sure it was.” Grace heard the bitterness in her tone. “And that’s the right thing,” she added. “Your fiancé is a legendary entrepreneur with tremendous pull and resources.” She imagined that if Levi told people to buy tickets and come to Brookwell, they would come in droves.
Great for the community, but holy cow what a personal challenge.
Her role with outreach would be coordinating with local businesses for services, swag, and more. On Levi’s behalf, Calvin was basically corporate muscle and would surely be recommending off-island vendors and suppliers. She rubbed her temples. They were going to be locking horns in committee meetings for weeks.
Willow had gone quiet, a sure sign she was worried. “It’ll be fine,” Grace said. “I’ll be aloof,” she decided. “Cool and professional. The past is just that. We’re adults and I’ll behave accordingly.”
And if tomorrow night proved that spark of attraction wasn’t just a figment of her fond memories, she’d simply make sure to never be alone with Mr. Calvin Lynwood.
“Aloof, huh?” Willow arched an eyebrow, her gaze dropping. “Is that why you’re currently twisting your grandmother’s ring so hard your finger is turning purple?”
Grace stopped and looked down at her hands. She was a nervous wreck, her knuckles white as she gripped the gold band she habitually wore on her index finger.
“I’m afraid the old feelings will creep up on me,” Grace admitted. “I just can’t let it happen. What if I look at him and forget that he’s the guy who wanted a life I couldn’t give him?Nothing has changed but time. I have a business to run. A house to maintain. A legacy to manage.” Though she had no idea who she was managing that legacy for. “Even if he’s not married with kids, I can’t afford to fall for a man who is only here because his client told him to be.”
“Then don’t fall,” Willow reached out and gave Grace’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Just stand your ground. The Beach Belle is essential to Brookwell. Coming in for that first dance dress is practically a rite of passage in this town. If he wants to get involved with this community, he has to do the heavy lifting. Not you.”
Grace took a deep breath, the salt air stinging her lungs was invigorating. Willow was right. She wasn’t that overwhelmed girl on the edge of sorrow anymore. She was a business owner with a clear vision. She was a caregiving survivor.
And the last Teague standing.
“Professional courtesy,” Grace muttered as they turned away from the water to cross the dunes. “That’s my focus.” She’d put blinders on to block out everything else.
But as Grace drove toward the Beach Belle twenty minutes later, her gaze kept drifting toward the upstairs windows. The plantation shutters were closed, hiding whatever version of Calvin Lynwood was currently waking up in the apartment she’d always thought of as her secret place. Her stomach did a slow, nervous flip, and she knew “aloof professional” was going to be the hardest role she ever had to play.
CHAPTER 5
Calvin had worked longer than he intended and spent the short remainder of the night tossing and turning and battling the ghosts of his memory. He’d slept no more than three fitful hours, the silence of the apartment and store below only giving more room for thoughts of Grace.
He wanted toseeher. To rediscover the light and fire he remembered and study any changes. He wanted to talk and catch up and fine-tune the plans he’d drafted last night. Basically, he was craving a crash course in this version of Grace so he would know exactly how to help her.
She deserved more than the daily grind of running a business. She deserved to have all her dreams come true. She’d traded a college education to care for her mother and, if he was right, now she played the same caregiving role for the shop.
Over his first cup of coffee, he rehearsed opening lines and dismissed them all as too cheesy or too pushy. Probably best if he just got on with his day. He couldn’t let down his best client. He’d just have to trust that when he saw her, the right words would be ready.
Although he had options in the apartment, the combination of restlessness and responsibility led him outside to explore the town.
First up, he wanted more coffee. Levi’s latest addition to the Palmetto Perk chain was the obvious choice, but that might put him directly in Grace’s path. Though he’d rented the apartment, he didn’t want to come off completely pushy, so he aimed for the Bread Basket instead.
All his preliminary research pointed to the bakery as the heart of the town, by location as well as reputation. He walked in and joined the line, breathing in the aroma of yeast, fresh coffee, and the warm sugary sweetness of the famous strudel. The potent combination would derail the most determined health advocate with a single whiff.
Fortunately, his business was marketing and not fitness and discovering Brookwell’s highlights topped his to-do list. He ordered a black coffee and a slice of the original apple strudel. Once he filled his coffee at the self-serve bar, he sat down at the only available table tucked into the corner. He skimmed his email, unable to break the habit, though his gaze kept darting toward the entrance. He didn’t have any reason to expect Grace and yet the idealistic kid he’d been held out hope that she’d walk in.
