He towers over everyone around us at the airport, solid and unmissable, all long lines and quiet strength. People step asidewithout thinking, like they can feel his presence before they see him. I clutch my bag and try not to stare, but it’s hard when he looks like this, strong and steady and completely in control.
I swallow, suddenly very aware that he’s with me. And that maybe I like the way he takes up space in my world just as much as he does in this airport.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” my dad says quietly.
I don’t hesitate. I nod my head once and smile. “I believe in myself, Dad. I’ve got that covered.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “I need to catch up.”
“Yeah. You do.”
He exhales. “I’m trying. I just want you to focus. You have a lot on your plate right now. I don’t think you realize how much this job is going to take out of you.”
Even though Dad still seems a bit hesitant about the whole marriage thing with Cal, something has shifted in him.
For now, that feels like progress.
22
Cal
Landing in New Yorkand seeing the city lights and bridges stretch beneath us as we were making our descent hit me harder than I thought it would. I’ve always loved New York City, and its loud, restless energy. It’s different than life in Coconut Beach. It’s hard to explain that to Silvie because with her and me, things still aren’t defined.
The limo that picked us up at the airport glides away from the airport, and outside the window, everything stacks upward, lighting up every square inch it feels like. We drive past steel-and-glass buildings, their office windows lit, casting shadows and silhouettes of people still at work. Because we’re in the city that never sleeps.
Traffic crawls and horns blare, with people cutting in and out, not even glancing at others as they do. Everyone here seems to have a sense of urgency. I think about how time slows back in Coconut Beach. People stop to chat, lunches are slow and often include other locals catching up, and people stroll the beach with nowhere to be. Here, it’s different.
The energy is charged.
Chaotic.
Anxious.
Silvie sits beside me, legs crossed, phone resting in her lap. She looks different... as if she’s more dialed in. Her hair and make-up are stylish and fitting for the city. She looks polished yet effortless. She’swearing a tailored blazer, with slacks and heels. Her New York attire is completely different from her makeup and sundresses back in Coconut Beach. I prefer that version, but this one is stunning and sexy as hell. She looks very much like the CEO badass she just became.
Honestly, I love seeing her in her element, relaxed and confident. Pride fills me just watching her. She looks happy. Her hand slides into mine, and I squeeze it. I don’t miss her dad’s eyes on our hands and our faces as we smile at each other. It’s not a façade. Not this part. I’m proud of Silvie and am her biggest supporter.
But I still can’t help the warning bells that are threatening to go off in the back of my head. Because what if she never comes back to Coconut Beach? What if she needs me to move here and... I can’t. I couldn’t imagine leaving my mom and Jonah.
Wilby’s across from us, scrolling through emails on his phone, and says, “Feels good to be home. But I already miss Coconut Beach.”
Silvie sighs. “Me, too.”
Wilby looks up. “When do you want to return to Coconut Beach? I need to set that up.”
“We’ll be heading back tomorrow after the meeting,” she tells him.
Silvie’s dad’s eyebrows raise. “So soon?”
“I have everything I need to work in Coconut Beach,” she says. “I already told you I was taking time off. That hasn’t changed.”
He says nothing, just nods and gazes out the window. Charles is an interesting man. Still not sure how I feel about him, but as long as he treats Silvie right, I have no problem with him.
Silvie turns to me and studies my face. “You’re quiet.”
“Just taking it in,” I say.
The limo slows and slides up to the curb as a building comes into view. Our driver hops out, opens the door.
