CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
—NOA
(11.5 months later)
I can’t believe Shawn isa kept woman. If there was ever one person I would have predicted to stay wild and free her entire life, it would be Shawnda Callen. And instead, I’m sitting across from Shawn on the new-and-improved waterfront patio of the Surf Shack, watching her feed gummy worms to her girlfriend.
“I’m not trying to be a buzzkill,” I say, “but this is starting to gross me out.”
Shawn laughs and looks sideways at me. “Oh right,” she replies. “Like I never have to watch you and Jamie sucking face on the boat.”
“Sucking face?” I repeat with my lip curled. “Nasty.”
Both Shawn and Jordan laugh. Jordan sets down the cup of ice cream (all the gummy worms now picked out of it), checking the time on her phone.
“I should go,” she says. “Apparently, it’s a big day at the resort. My mother needs me to help her pick out napkins or something equally as pointless.”
“Tell Cece I said hello,” Shawn says, wagging her fingers. Jordan leans down and exchanges a quick kiss with Shawn before heading back up to the Augustus Resort.
“No, I get you,” Shawn tells me after Jordan’s gone, digging herspoon through the ice cream. “We are kind of sickening sometimes.” We both laugh.
I lean back in the chair, surveying the new dining patio for the Surf Shack. Tech’s mother runs the kitchen, the entire establishment employing locals who had been displaced by the Augustus Resort.
In the end, Cecelia Miles made good on her offer. She donated a substantial amount to the rebuilding of the Surf Shack and led the charge to reform the county easements that had been holding us back. She helped us get the proper permits, and now the resort sends their tourists here for boat rentals and surfing instruction—no strings attached. This time, we had an excellent lawyer, who also happens to be Jamie’s mother, review the paperwork.
Of course, I’m sure Cecelia Miles got a hefty tax break for all her charity, but regardless, we have our business back. And our home.
I get up and walk off the patio onto our newly expanded boat dock. I walk over to Jamie’s yacht, and knock on the side. He comes out in his bathing suit, bronzed like a Greek god, his hair surfer long now.
“Apparently there’s some big event at the resort today,” I tell him.
He furrows his brow and grabs a T-shirt to pull on, obstructing my view, before climbing down to meet me on the dock. He puts his arm around me, his skin warm from the sun, and together we turn toward the Augustus Resort.
“Well, Mancini is in prison and my father is still negotiating terms for his trial,” he says. “So I don’t think it’s a homecoming party for either of them.”
Alessandro Mancini was held without bail for months, professing his innocence until he eventually took a plea for the death of Felix Mancini, sentenced to fifteen-to-twenty years. He’s still facing charges for murdering Gina Tamayo, arson, and fraud. And for the death of his fiancé, Florence Marsten.
After Mancini’s arrest, the FBI swarmed the Starline Hotel, followed by the press. For months, it was the top news story:LOST RESORT FOUND AT LAST. But those stories are already fading. As if the Starline Hotel had always been meant to stay lost.
Still, there was an official press conference held by the sheriff’s office. They cleared Gabriel Mendez of the murder of Florence Marsten. Tech’s grandmother was at the sheriff’s side as he spoke, nodding along because she always knew her son was innocent.
As for Jamie’s dad, he has managed to stay out of jail by filing endless continuances and court documents. From what we hear, he won’t spend a single day in prison. He’s really just burning through his own money at this point, trying to clear his name. His company has already been taken off the stock exchange.
For his part, Jamie works for the Surf Shack now, although he’s technically an independent contractor. He charters day trips on his yacht while I handle the surf lessons and Ellis handles the books. My father is enjoying a soft retirement, fishing fromThe Tarpon.He’s still here every day, micromanaging us, but now he’s finally living his life after years of putting it on hold to keep us afloat.
And occasionally, the sheriff stops by for a beer. Smiling to himself as he watches the water, and hoping that he made his sister proud.
While we built a new restaurant, the Surf Shack itself is almost identical, although we did add a little more charm and a few more square feet. We also added an extra bedroom, and thankfully a second bathroom, but other than that, we tried to recreate what we already had.
And Ellis put up a plaque on the dock, facing the boats and the horizon.
FOR FELIX—MY BROTHER. “YOU SAW IT FIRST, BUT I’LL MEET YOU THERE.”
I don’t think I’ll ever not cry when I walk past it. But I love it,knowing that Felix is still out there, adventuring somewhere.
Jamie lives on his yacht, not exactly roughing it, and I think it’s a great compromise. We have a private area whenever we want with the ocean surrounding us. In a few weeks, his sister and mother are coming to visit. We did spend Christmas with them in Connecticut, which was a bit of a shock for this Florida girl. I’m not about that snow life. Jamie’s mother is doing well, and his sister is thriving. It’s nice to see them happy, and it’s even better since they’re letting Jamie be a part of it.
“Chasers,” Tech yells as he walks out of the Surf Shack office. “Any of you coming to work today or what?”
