I reread the message again to make sure I am understanding it properly.
Mayor Monroe,
I am on my way to Dogwood Cove and look forward to meeting with you after my conversation with the owner of Oceanside Resort.
Regards,
Cole Devereaux
CEO of Devereaux Hotels International
I’ve forgotten all about my sister and the dog she apparently now owns, until her voice pierces my panic. I jerk my head up to see her narrow her eyes at me accusingly. “Why do you sound freaked out, Ethan?”
“Because Cole Devereaux is on his way here right now to talk to Summer. He’s used to getting what he wants, Mila, and he wants the resort. Only she doesn’t know that, so she’s going to be blindsided by him and his offer.”
I stand up abruptly from my desk, making the dog at Mila’s feet bark. I frantically grab my jacket, my phone, and my keys before jogging to my office door. Vaguely, I realize Mila and the dog are following me, but my sister doesn’t say anything more until we’re outside. Then she steps in front of me, blocking my entrance to my truck, her hands on her hips, temper flaring.
“Wait. You’re saying you never told Summer about Devereaux? Oh my God, Ethan, you idiot.”
“I know I fucked up. Trust me, Mila, no one knows that better than I do. I have to find her and explain, and beg for her forgiveness,” I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends roughly. “Fuck. I gotta go. I have to get to her before this guy shows up.” I gesture down to the dog as I climb into my truck. “Take the mutt to the vet and get him checked out before you decide to keep him. He could have fleas.” Then I peel out of my parking spot and drive to Oceanside Resort, hoping to catch Summer before Cole fucking Devereaux does.
21
Summer
Walking into the hardware store fills me with an excitement I never imagined I would feel surrounded by tools and lumber. But coming here to speak with Turner is stage one of my plan. I texted Serena this morning to ask if she was okay with me bartering yoga classes for supplies, and she was on board. Which means I need to approach Turner next and see what he can offer in exchange.
I also need to price out all the windows I’m going to need, so I can figure out how to budget for them. And I need to look for a replacement hammer since I managed to break mine the other day.
Half an hour later, I have a page full of notes about windows, and a new hammer. I head to the front of the store to pay when Turner’s cheerful voice reaches me.
“Hey there, Summer, what can I help you find today?”
I turn from the cashier, my hammer and receipt in hand, with a smile for my dad’s old friend.
“Hi, Turner. I was hoping to find you. I was wondering how you feel about bartering?”
The look he gives me is curious, but open.
“Let’s go to my office and chat.”
When I walk out of the store, the sun is shining, and my smile is beaming. With the agreement I’ve set with Turner, I’ll have the windows ready to install within a few weeks. I’m pretty sure he’s giving me some sort of discount, but it doesn’t feel like a handout. Not with the three months of free yoga classes I’ve promised his wife in return.
Part one of my plan to take control of my budget issues and my renovation plans was a success. And with Mila and Ethan’s generous offer of free rent, all the money from my paycheques from Paige and Serena can go into the resort fund to pay for furnishings and décor. Next weekend will be the perfect time to hit the flea market to see what I can find.
The possibility of success is becoming real to me. More importantly, the possibility of finally having a stable home and a stable future is becoming real.
Like a pin being poked into a balloon to pop it, my phone rings with another call from my mom. I’ve ignored her twice now, so guilt has me answering.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Summer? Well thank god you finally decide to answer. Where are you baby? I haven’t heard from you in forever.” Maybe it’s my new understanding of everything my mom did to me over the years, but she sounds petulant and selfish even with just those few words.
“I’m in Dogwood Cove.”
“What the hell are you doing there?” The judgment in her tone instantly raises my defenses. This is my home now, and I won’t stand for her criticism. Not now that I know the truth.
“I’ve moved back home. Did you know Dad died? No, probably not. Because that would mean being aware of someone other than yourself. Well, I’m back, and I’m not leaving. I’m not coming to Niagara, Mom. I’m home.”
