“Weeks!” I echoed, unable to mask my frustration. Every delay added another complication, another layer of pressure. I needed time we didn’t have and money we couldn’t spare. “And the cost?”
“More than patching it, less than doing it twice.” Chase’s steady voice cut in before Joe could respond. I met his gaze, and the quiet intensity in his eyes made my heart trip.
“This is going to put us even further behind, Chase.” My voice rose to match the tension. “The pool, the bungalows… We’re already stretched so thin.”
He unfolded a tablet, the screen lighting up with a diagram of the pipes. “This is the only way to do it right, Harper.” His tone was maddeningly certain, and he moved closer to show me the details. “Patching is a temporary fix. It will fail eventually.”
“So will our bank account if we keep sinking money into delays.” I tried not to notice his strong, sexy hands once more. But my own certainty was unraveling, his logic chipping away at it. I wanted to be reasonable, but I also needed to keep the resort afloat, keep the chaos manageable. “We have guests right there.” I stabbed a finger toward Block Two. “Wouldn’t replacing everything involve shutting down the water to both blocks?”
Chase nodded. “Yes. But only for a day.” He had a way of becoming even more focused when things blew up around him, of almost disappearing into the disaster of the moment.
I squared up to him. “Oh, great! It’s not just the cost. I’m already drowning in complaints. Without the water being shut off!”
Joe cleared his throat loudly and slunk out to the main bedroom, clearly eager to let us duke it out on our own. The tension between Chase and me was as thick as the dust that surrounded us.
“We have to think long-term,” Chase insisted, holding out the tablet like a judge’s gavel. “Patches are just a way of throwing good money after bad. It only prioritizes short-term convenience over the full investment.” The last word hit like a well-aimed punch, reminding me of his stake in all this. The partnership I couldn’t quite believe was real.
My frustration boiled over. “Investment? Are you accusing me of being careless?”
He ran a hand through his neat hair, leaving a trail ofgrit. That alone told me how upset he was. “I’m saying you need to look at the bigger picture. You’re risking the integrity of the entire renovation to save a few bucks.”
“I’m risking—” My hot, angry burst echoed over the noise as I stepped closer. “We’re tackling too much at once! The new beach bungalows, the room remodels, and the pool reno. And you’re expecting me to just go along with your plans without any regard for the day-to-day reality I’m dealing with.”
His eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something that mirrored the uncertainty in my own heart. “It’s not my plans I’m worried about. It’s yours. You’re too afraid to commit to this.”
The suggestion of fear behind my decisions, of hesitance to embrace the changes, was infuriating. “That’s not fair.” My words came out as a growl. “You think this is easy for me? That I’m not drowning in all of this? We need to patch the goddamn pipes, not replace them.”
Chase took a breath, his jaw tense. “I already gave in once, Harper. With the cabanas? I agreed to go with your suggestion on the wood framing to save money. All I’m asking is for you to give me the same consideration here.”
“It’s not the same at all!” I exploded. “This affects everything! The budget, the schedule, our guests…” My words came out in a rush, fueled by the heat of feeling cornered and unheard.
“Exactly!” Chase’s frustration matched mine, his eyes fierce and unyielding. “It’s not just about saving money now. It’s about making sure everything doesn’t fall apart in six months.”
“Six months?” I threw my hands up, disbelief and anger swirling together. “We’ll be bankrupt in six months if we keep going like this.”
“Or we’ll be thriving,” he countered, his determinationcutting through all my defenses. “If you trust me enough to do this right.”
Trust. The word hung between us like a challenge, daring me to cross a line I wasn’t sure how to navigate. Trust had always been my issue. My heart pounded with the weight of it all—his expectations, my fears, everything that felt impossible to reconcile. The worst part was how much I wanted to believe him, how much I craved the certainty in his voice.
I stared at him, my frustration mingling with a magnetic pull I couldn’t ignore. His broad shoulders and strong hands, the way he stood so sure of himself, made me want to scream and melt at the same time. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly right? So impossible to resist?
The personal tension between us simmered beneath the professional disagreement, threatening to spill over in a way I wasn’t ready for. Hell, neither of us was. The set of his jaw declared the hurt behind his own anger, and it only fueled my need to prove him wrong.
We glared at each other over the chasm of copper and conflicting priorities. Neither of us willing to bend, to admit defeat. The dust and noise felt like nothing compared to the tumult between us, and both of us were too damn stubborn to back down.
Chase snapped his tablet shut with a finality that sent a shiver through me. “You know what? Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He turned sharply, leaving me with my growing resentment and a sense of something fragile crumbling between us. I watched him go, a ridiculous urge to cry overwhelming me. The weight of everything bore down on me, and I struggled to keep my head above the rising tide. I stalked off in the opposite direction. The air was thick with unresolved tension and the debris of all we weren’t saying.
