“I can’t say anything,” I tell her. “I promised.”
“Say no more,” she says. “I know it’s good. I’ve seen that look on your face before. All I need is a simple nod.”
I nod, and she claps her hands together. Her giddiness is contagious, but I try not to let it overtake me.
“Fuck, I’m so jealous. Pinkie promise you’ll tell me one day. When it doesn’t matter.”
I hold out my finger, and we lock them together, then seal it with a shake.
As I’m walking toward the door, I snag a bar of wax. “Add this to my account.”
I stop and turn back to her. I move across the store and stand in front of the counter.
“I need to ask you something,” I say, lowering my voice, studying her so I don’t miss one of her tells.
“Okay. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.” She places my wax into a bag, then hands it back.
“Why don’t you go out with Kemp?” I ask. “The two of you always hit it off.”
A soft laugh releases from her. “Kemp? We’re friends.”
“And? You can be lovers too.”
“Oh, Wen. That’s not happening,” she says. “But I’ll find someone, I’m sure. You give me hope.”
We say our goodbyes, and on the way home, I walk past the mailbox at the end of the driveway. There’s a stack of different-sized envelopes, and on autopilot, I sift through them. There’s a flyer for boat tours, and then I see one for the B&B Beachside Event. It makes me smile so hard. Next is a postcard from a guest who stayed last month. The last envelope is heavy cream-colored stock with that familiar weight I recognize. My smile instantly fades when I seeCoastal Heritage Holdings, LLCat the top. I tear it open, pulling the expensive paper from the envelope.
Gale,
They started using her first name, which means the distance is closing.
I continue reading. The language is more personal, chipper even, and the offer is double. They’re changing their strategy.
We would love the opportunity to visit the property and discuss your family’s vision for the future. We’re ready to negotiate.
My hands shake. If they sat across from Gran and slid a check for $2.4 million, she would take it. I suck in a ragged breath. I fold the paper and shove it into my back pocket. The first twomade me angry. This one scares me because they’re not circling like sharks anymore; they’re moving closer.
Corporations like this know that a visit and a handshake would do more than any number on a page. Gran would offer them sweet tea and a tour. They’d build trust and offer compliments while genuinely asking about the history. By the time they left, she’d be convinced they cared about this place as much as she does.
Carter is coming down the stairs with a coffee mug in his hand. He pauses.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, heading for the front desk.
His eyes follow me across the room. For a second, I think he might ask me again, but he doesn’t. I’m glad he takes the hint because this isn’t something I want to discuss with anyone. The thought of losing the bed-and-breakfast makes me physically ill. I pull the envelope from my pocket and throw it in the bottom of a desk drawer, where I hid the others.
At least Josie’s fundraiser will take the edge off, along with Carter’s reservation.
“When is our next lesson?” he asks.
“I’ll check the conditions for tomorrow.”
“Let me know.” He sets his mug in the sink and goes upstairs.
Somehow, the stress I’m constantly under is easier to ignore when he’s around.
chapter fifteen
