“A couple of weeks, possibly less if I can complete everything more quickly."
"First time on the island?" He tested the joint with a gentle touch, checking for heat.
"Second," Caroline corrected. "I visited briefly as a child, though I don't remember much."
Finn extinguished the torch and set it aside to cool. "Nantucket has a way of staying with people, even when they think they've forgotten it." He looked up at her with that direct gaze again. "Though I guess the city’s got its own pull."
"It suits me," Caroline said, suddenly aware of how close they were in the small fitting room, how the afternoon light filtering through the vintage lace curtains cast dappled patterns across his features. "The pace, the focus on results rather than..." she gestured vaguely at their surroundings, "...sentiment."
"No room for sentiment in restructuring huh,” he stated, as he began to clean up his tools.
Caroline considered this. "There's room for recognition of emotional attachments," she said carefully. "But ultimately, decisions need to be based on viability, not nostalgia."
"And Sea Glass Bridal? Where does it fall on your viability scale?" Finn was packing away his tools now, each item returned to its proper place with methodical care.
The question was precisely what she had been assessing all day, yet hearing it spoken aloud by this stranger made her unexpectedly hesitant. "It's complicated," she admitted. "The business model isn't exactly … conventional.”
Finn laughed at this, a warm sound that seemed to fill the small space. "That's diplomatic. Not much conventional about keeping dresses for years until their brides are 'ready.'"
"You know about that?" Caroline asked, surprised.
"Everyone on Nantucket knows about Ellen’s waiting dresses," he replied, rising to his feet with fluid grace for such a tall man. "My cousin’s dress waited three years. Ellen kept it perfect, just like she promised." He replaced the baseboard with careful precision, tapping it gently into place with a small hammer from his belt. "There's plenty of conventional bridal shops all over the world. But only one Sea Glass."
The simple observation echoed uncomfortably with Caroline's own thoughts. This place wasn't just a failing business; it was an institution, a repository of island stories and connections. This knowledge didn't change the financial reality, but it complicated the clean solution she'd been expecting.
"Actually," she said, seizing an opportunity for local insight, "since you know the island well, could you recommend any good local realtors? For valuation purposes," she added quickly.
The change in Finn was immediate and profound. The warmth that had been building between them vanished as if a door had been slammed shut. His posture straightened, hisexpression cooled, and the easy rapport they'd been developing crystallized into something far more formal.
"Probably best to ask your aunt about that," he said, his voice carefully neutral as he collected his toolbox. "Leak's fixed. I'll check the upstairs bathroom plumbing next time I'm here, make sure everything's tight."
Caroline blinked at the sudden shift, mentally reviewing her words for whatever had triggered this withdrawal.
“But …”
"I need to get to my next job. Tell Ellen I said hi.”
With that, he moved past her toward the front door, his presence filling the narrow space between dress racks before the shop bell jingled his departure.
She remained, oddly unsettled by both his abrupt withdrawal and her own reaction to it.
She wasn't accustomed to caring about other’s opinions of her professional assessments, yet somehow this complete stranger’s disapproval carried a strange weight Caroline hadn't anticipated.
13
Her parents’guest room had always been Jess's favorite space after her own bedroom.
Tucked under the eaves of the third floor, its dormer windows framed the harbor like a living painting, capturing sailboats and fishing vessels against the backdrop of Nantucket's ever-changing sky.
The walls, painted a soft blue-gray the color of morning mist, displayed weathered ship models her father had collected over decades. A quilt stitched with compass roses and nautical knots covered the four-poster bed where Megan now sat cross-legged, her curly hair gathered in a messy bun as she sorted through her suitcase.
"I packed for every possible weather scenario," she said, pulling out a light sweater and adding it to the growing pile beside her. "Which seems ridiculous now that I'm here. It's perfect."
Jess leaned against the antique dresser, watching her friend with amusement. "Wait until tomorrow. Classic Nantucket - sunny morning, foggy afternoon, clear evening. You'll need three outfits."
"At least I came prepared." Megan held up a wrinkled sundress, frowning at its condition. "Unlike this dress. It looks like it was folded by angry raccoons."
"Here." Jess took the dress and draped it on a hanger, then suspended it from the bathroom doorframe. "Steam from your shower will sort it out."
