Simply to get things up and running would be expensive. The town might pay for necessary structural reinforcements, but Kevin and his crew would have to be paid, starting with the architect. Then, with furnishings, fixtures, a computer system, and the upfront cost to stock an initial inventory, the dollars would cha-ching, cha-ching.
With luck, Rafe could build a website and a social media platform and maintain them. But would he want to spend his time on that? And how would she pay for everything else? Did she dare withdraw from her meager retirement fund?
Yes, it was overwhelming. Writing her dissertation had been easier.
Closing her laptop, she realized she should probably give up the idea before it dragged her—and the people she loved—underwater.
And then, her phone rang. She sighed.
It was Rex again.
“We can do it,” he said, as if he’d been reading her mind from Edgartown. “If you let me help you.”
He sounded so upbeat she did not have the courage to say, “Thanks, but never mind.”
“Best of all, I know an investor who loves to support small, up-island businesses … and who’s willing to kick in whatever you need for start-up costs.”
For a moment, she thought she must be asleep.
“Maddie? Did you hear me?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m listening.” She blinked. “But how indebted would I be to this investor? Like, how much interest will it cost me? And what if things don’t pan out?”
“Don’t worry about that now. An investor always knows there are risks.”
“Oh, Rex, I don’t know …”
“It’s aboveboard, Maddie. Will you trust me? As your friend?”
She hesitated, then said, “Of course I trust you.” She waited for her intuition to provide an answer. When it didn’t, she calmly said, “And thank you. But I’d rather try and do this on my own.”
He laughed. “Okay, but the offer’s there if you change your mind. As for now, Kevin said the architect can meet you at the bait shop, ten o’clock Friday morning if that works for you. Unfortunately, I’ll be prepping food at the restaurant, but Kevin can go with you. Everything will fall into place, Maddie. Let’s talk again tomorrow.” He rang off without saying good-bye, as if he was in a hurry to help put things in motion. Cockamamie as this plan of hers might be.
Later that night, after Grandma Nancy had, once again, padded off to bed, Maddie stepped outside onto the front porch, smiled up at the stars, and let her enthusiasm bloom.
Yes, she thought, everything about the bookshop could fall into place. To be safe, however, she would not tell Rafe or her father—and she wouldn’t tell Grandma that things were underway—until a deal was sealed. Then, if it did not pan out,she wouldn’t let anyone down except Rex and Kevin. And herself.
With another breath of the cool, clear air, Maddie turned to go back inside. Which was when she saw a white envelope sticking out from under a rock that someone must have left on the porch. Reaching down, she moved the rock aside and picked up the envelope. Bold, black letters on the front simply read:MADDIE. Unsealing the flap, she took out a single sheet of paper. Even in the dim light spilling out from the cabin, she could see the message:
GET OFF THE ISLAND. AND DON’T COME BACK.
Chapter 7
Mid-December
Maddie had not left the island. Nor had she told anyone what she’d found.
After several days, when no other notes appeared, she’d dismissed the note as harmless, a joke planted by someone with too much time on their hands. Occasionally, when coming or going, she glanced under the rock. But weeks ago she’d tucked the note in her suitcase and forgotten about it.
Kevin’s architect had pulled together everything required for her lease application. She’d presented the blueprint and proposal to the Board before the deadline; they’d hinted that a decision might be made “in January.” Rex reminded her that the anonymous “investor” was still available if need be, but Maddie said so far, she really wanted to try to work out the financial part on her own.
Meanwhile, she became immersed in buying new and replacement things for Grandma’s cottage and in learning whatever she could find online about running a bookshop. With Christmas growing close, and as engaged as Maddie was, she could not remember being happier. She’d had lunch withRex three times (Kevin was there, too), and the outings went smoothly, with the conversation confined to the inner politics of Vineyard life, and how they might or might not affect her plans.
As for Rex, she was content with them being friends, and pleased that he was, to some degree, involved in her project, especially because of his island know-how and connections.
And then Kevin suggested that the three of them visit a few independent bookstores on Cape Cod.
“A day trip,” he said at their most recent lunch. “I want to check out their shelving and fixtures, and I thought you might be able to find a few merchandising approaches that are different from the Vineyard bookstores. And Rex …”
