Her eyes finally meet mine, shining with the unshed tears she blinks away a few times. With a quick nod, she sniffles, looking down at the table. I remove my hand after a gentle squeeze, and she takes a deep breath, eyes closed tightly. I busy myself with my own laptop, not wanting to be a creep and watch her go through whatever this is.
After a couple of minutes, she takes a sip of water and clears her throat. “Thank you, Darcy.” The use of my last name doesn’t grate as much when she says it so sweetly. “It’s… been a day. And then my mom called me for the first time in weeks, and only because she needed a favor, and it made the day worse, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“No need to thank me. And if today isn’t good, we can do this another time?—”
“No.” Her interruption seems to startle both of us. “I mean, I’ve been looking forward to talking about this, so it’s fine.I’mfine. Sorry, I needed a minute, so th?—”
“I swear, if you apologize or thank me again, I’m gonna walk around this table and tickle you until you can’t breathe.” The instant the words are out of my mouth, her cheeks turn pink, no doubt remembering the same moment running through mymind of our last morning together. Whatever. It works to get her to stop saying sorry and thank you, and I know I’m not making up the hint of a smile on her face, even if she is doing her best to hide it.
“You wouldn’t,” she quips with narrowed eyes.
“Oh, I think we both know Iabsolutelywould.” Our gazes lock for a few loaded seconds before she shakes the tension off, straightening her shoulders.
“Okay, let’s get started. Did the blueprint make sense? I know it’s a lot of detail, but I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed to run your numbers.”
“Yep. Made perfect sense.” I pull out the folder on the chair next to me, which contains physical copies of everything. “I’ve been doing some research.”
“Research?” Her brows lift to her hairline.
I ignore her shock. “I’ve spoken to about fifteen people so far. Marina operators, boat owners, a few business owners on Main Street, and—” I let out an embarrassed laugh, knowing she’s going to give me shit for this, “I went to the library to look for old town-planning documents.”
She stares at me, unblinkingly, for so long, I wonder if she’s glitching.
I shrug a little defensively. “I wanted to understand what’s been tried in the past. As it turns out, there was a similar proposal in the late 1970s that died because they didn’t account for storm surge protection.”
Licking her lips slowly, she leans in. “You went to…the library. And you found documents from theseventies.”
“Margie, the librarian, was super helpful. She remembers when your dad worked on some of those projects, back in the day.” At my mention of her father, her features go from surprised to something more complex.
“Yeah. He did.” After rubbing her forehead as if to clear whatever thought was bothering her, she continues, “Anyway, what did people have to say about making changes to the existing layout?”
“Most people love it, but they’re concerned about parking since there isn’t much available on Main Street as it is. And the marina parking is too small, plus it should be prioritized for patrons.” As I speak, she pulls her laptop closer, typing furiously and clicking through something.
“Way ahead of you.” She turns the laptop so we can both look at the screen. “See this lot here? It’s town-owned, but it’s a mess of potholes, and people avoid using it at all costs. If we tidy it up, maybe even pave it and add some lighting…boom. Overflow parking. It’s a ten-minute walk to the marina, but if we connect it with the boardwalk extension?—”
“People would prefer to park there and walk along the water’s edge. That’s genius.” I interrupt her, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
We’re both leaning in to see her screen, but neither of us makes a move to pull away. “It’s logical,” she says while mindlessly running a finger on the trackpad.
“No, it’s smart. And here.” I reach across to point at something on the screen, my arm brushing hers in the process. “Sorry. Um, if we do the parking lot, we could add a small information kiosk here for tourists. Maps, a local business directory, calendar of events, that sort of thing.”
There’s no response, but her eyes have an extra sparkle to them as they roam over the plans on the screen.
“Margie mentioned the historical society has been wanting to add some signage about the town’s fishing history. They could easily be incorporated into the boardwalk design, and I bet they’d even help pay for those by raising funds.”
Her head turns, and we’re suddenly face-to-face. “You did your homework.” We’re so close, I can count the freckles on her nose.
“I wanted to impress you,” I admit quietly, realizing my mistake. “I mean, impress the committee. Leave no stone unturned.”
Pulling back, she nods. “Right. The committee. So anyway, permitting. We need—oh, God, we need so many permits. There’s the waterfront development permit, which will take at least six months. And then we need an environmental assessment because of the marine habitat, and then—oh shit, we need to check if there are any protected areas or species in the area, and if there are, we are so screwed. Well, notscrewedscrewed, but delayed at the very least. And then we’ll need a?—”
“Beth—Billie. Breathe.” Fuck, it’s hard to call her by the right name.
“Sor—Uh, yeah.” She stops herself from apologizing when I raise a brow at her. “My brain does this thing where it sees all the steps at once and—” She makes an explosion gesture with her hands, adding sound effects. It’s soher, the entire thing, that I wish I could store this moment away forever.
“I see that. So, how about we make a list? Break it all down in order of operations? You tell me everything that comes to your mind, and I’ll start typing. I’ll ask questions as we go. Okay?” With my own laptop in front of me, I open up a blank document in our shared drive and add the date. When she doesn’t say anything, I look up to find soft brown eyes watching me.
“That’s perfect, yeah.”
