“Of course not.”
“I’ll need to discuss this with the family,” Harper said as she rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. “There are so many factors to consider.”
“There certainly are. Let me know what you decide.” My words sounded so formal, so distant.
Harper’s eyes softened as she looked at me. “Jules, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your work on this. Your dedication to Sunset Siesta… it’s truly invaluable.”
Her words hit me unexpectedly, stirring somethingdeep inside. My professional mask slipped as I glanced at my bookcase with its battered Verne books and my scrappy little cactus on the desk. “This place isn’t just a job for me anymore. It’s home. I want to do everything I can to secure its future.”
“That’s exactly why we’re lucky to have you. I’ll set up another formal meeting with Chase next week sometime after the family meeting. Be on the lookout for a calendar invite.”
“I will. Let me know if you need any figures beforehand. I’ll have them prepared.”
“Thanks, Jules. See you later.”
As she left, a sense of connection lingered between us—something deeper than mere professional respect. At least some good was coming from this disaster.
The dreary Monday afternoon dragged on. I worked on payroll, fingers flying over the keyboard as I entered numbers and checked calculations. Something was missing. With a groan, I realized Eli hadn’t sent over the dive op payroll files. My heart sank as I glanced at the clock. If I didn’t get those soon, I’d be in trouble. I thought about a phone call or email request, but I didn’t want to give him any reason to keep ignoring me.
I rose and made my way down the weathered wooden pier toward Eli’s domain. The rain had stopped, but the sky still hung low, casting a gray pallor over everything. As I entered the shop, I caught snippets of laughter from the classroom. Eli’s voice carried to me, warm and animated, cutting through the humid air like a knife. I paused outside the classroom door, just out of sight.
“Okay, folks! When you dive deep, remember—the air in your tank is compressed even more, right?” His tone was playful, filled with that familiar humor. “So if you think you’re going to breathe the same amount of air down thereas you do at thirty feet, think again! You gotta manage your air like it’s the last slice of pizza!”
The students laughed, and my heart twisted. I leaned against the wall, listening as he continued, his passion for diving evident in every word. He had a gift for making complex concepts feel accessible, even fun. I could picture him in the water—confident, magnetic, alive.
“Now, when we reach depth, we’ll also need to watch for narcosis.” His voice dropped slightly, becoming serious yet still engaging. “Just like how you might make questionable life choices at a party, you can make some… interesting decisions at depth if you’re not careful.”
Another round of laughter erupted, and an aching nostalgia washed over me. I realized I was smiling without even knowing it. God, I missed this. I missed him—the Eli who made me laugh until my sides hurt, who lit up every room he entered.
“Seriously, though, nitrogen narcosis is no joke. Not everyone experiences it, but if you find yourself feeling loopy or euphoric, let your buddy and dive leader know. That’s all for the classroom session. See you guys bright and early tomorrow.”
As the students filed out, I stepped into the dive shop, my heart humming despite my efforts to remain calm. The bright aquamarine walls of the dive shop surrounded me, still echoing with Eli’s enthusiasm. He glanced up, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of me. He looked breathtakingly good—tousled blond hair, sun-kissed skin, a faded Dive Sunset Siesta T-shirt clinging to his athletic frame.
“Hi, Eli.” My simple sentence pleased me. It sounded friendly, professional. Not the tone of a woman who was trying to refrain from jumping into a man’s arms. Right this second.
“Jules.” His voice was more cautious as he closed a filefolder and placed it in his backpack. “What brings you by?”
“Just checking on those payroll files. You haven’t sent them over yet.”
He winced. “Damn. I’m sorry. I had to lead an unexpected dive trip this morning and it slipped my mind. I’ve got them ready, though—give me just a sec.”
I nodded stiffly as he moved to the computer. My eyes traced the familiar lines of his back, remembering how it felt to wrap my arms around him. This man was similar to the Eli I’d once battled with, but different too. That Eli would have never spared a second thought for the payroll report.
“Should be right here…” He clicked a few buttons, and I shifted my weight, fighting against the swirl of emotions rising inside me. “There,” he said, turning back to me. “Just emailed them to you.”
“Thanks.” I kept my tone light and friendly. “Here we are, two coworkers getting along famously. I didn’t even have to nag. Quite a change from how we started out, huh?”
I’d meant it as a light-hearted quip, but Eli’s face crumpled, pain flashing in his eyes. “Yeah. Not how I wanted things to change, though.”
My breath caught in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“This. Us.” Eli’s voice was raw, filled with regret. “Being forced to choose between my family and you. I hate it, Jules. I talked to my mom, but she still won’t budge.”
I got it. Truly. Family loyalty ran deep. Especially for Eli, who’d watched his parents’ bitter divorce transform familial love into a minefield of betrayal and pain. He’d had no choice.
But understanding didn’t make the ache any less devastating.
I couldn’t ask him to choose me over his family, for God’s sake. And how would that solve anything if we were together, but the rest of the resort was united against us?
I raised my chin, refusing to show how I felt. “It’s a complicated situation. People say that what’s meant to be finds a way. Guess we’re just not meant to be.” I nodded with my head at his computer. “Thanks for sending over the file.”
I headed toward the exit, the weight of unsaid words filling the air between us.
“Jules, please…”
I couldn’t bear to look back. The pain in my chest was suffocating, and as I walked down the pier, each step felt heavier. The beauty of the ocean shimmered around me, but all I could think about was the chasm between what I wanted and what reality offered.
The thought of leaving Dove Key flitted once more through my head. But I disregarded it for one simple reason. I had a feeling that no matter where I went, Eli would always be a part of my story—a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.
