Page 24 of Billionaire's Coastal Haven

“Won’t happen.” I’m not telling them how lonely it is at the top. I’m such a cliché. No one pities the billionaire. Really, what do I have to complain about? If I wanted to, I could turn over every aspect of the business to an appointed CEO, find myself a pristine beach, and drink Mai Tais for the rest of my life.

But that sounds as boring and lonely as my current life. My brother and I need this project. We need this house to be a place where we finally feel at home and can rest, even if we know it’s just temporary. I won’t give up my purpose because I’m burned out. I’ll recharge like I’m a battery and Rainwater Bay is an electrical outlet.

“How can we trust you? We don’t know you.” Archer’s lawyerly demeanor snaps into place.

“You don’t need to know me when you know my reputation. I’ve never left a project unfinished, every project executed to perfection. Trust me when I say this one matters more than anything I’ve ever done.”

“But why?” The brother’s eyes bore into me. Pinched at the corners. Mouths tight. Shoulders bunched. They won’t accept my deflection, so I give them something.

“This is for my brother. Things haven’t been easy for him the last couple of years, and when I reminded him of our childhood, hiking to your great-grandparents’ estate, the nostalgia won us both over. We are going to recreate the best time in our lives.”

Collin nods at Archer. “That is a reason we can support.”

“I’ll finalize the contract.” Archer grabs his laptop.

“Show me the site plan.”

Zoe

Dad’s scowl is heavy on my mind as I drag myself to The Bright Spot Friday morning. My hair is wet from my morning swim, and chilly air ripples goosebumps along my arms. I wanted the swim to give me a clear perspective on dad’s behavior, but it didn’t.

As I combed through Mom’s boxes and described the plan for the Reeves estate to him, he became angrier. Red cheeks, tight fists. I had to stop so he didn’t have another heart attack.

He says he wants to stick with tradition, remember our roots, but why is he so angry? It doesn’t make sense for him to be this worked up over a new resort.

I’m not a huge fan of the idea, but at least the council has the town’s best interests at heart. They’re right that Rainwater Bay isn’t what it once was.

What it can be.

We need jobs. We need fresh ideas and energy.

If we don’t give new businesses a chance to grow and thrive, our current trajectory leaves us a ghost town in the next twenty years.

Why doesn’t Dad see that?

Is there a deeper reason behind his stubbornness? Something I don’t understand?

Dad has never been an open book, so how do I figure it out?

The bell rings when I push through the glass front door, and my mouth waters when the scent of freshly brewed coffee hits my nose. Francesca hugs me over the counter. She’s wearing a 1950s-inspired cocktail dress this morning that hugs her figure and brings out the green in her eyes. “Flat white?”

I wrinkle my nose. “I need something with more flavor today.” Predictability can take a vacation. I need sugar and spice.

“Chai, gingerbread latte, café Cubano?”

“A gingerbread chai actually sounds really good. Is that a thing?” I bite my bottom lip to keep from licking them in anticipation.

“Easy-peasy. I can add gingerbread syrup to your chai. Do you want a shot of espresso as well? Make it dirty?”

“Yes.” A dirty gingerbread chai latte is exactly what I need this morning.

“Your dad doing okay?” She pours milk into the frothing cup.

“Fine.” I draw out the word. Something about her tone makes my stomach bunch.

Francesca lifts her eyebrow. “Really? You looked like you were fighting the other day.”

Oh, shit, who saw us? “When?”