I hang up the phone, not wanting to hear another word from her mouth. And I’m hit by the realization that I’m not sad about ending my tenuous relationship with my mother.
Not sad at all.
I’m starting to love the drive from Ethan’s house to Oceanside Resort. The routine of coming out here every day is so normal and domestic. I would have never guessed that normal was what I was looking for when I came home, but I guess it is. My dad had a good idea when he bought this place, I get that now. Pulling into the parking lot at the resort, I sit in my truck and stare at everything around me for a minute. Compared to when I arrived a little over a month ago, the place is transformed. The pride that infuses me is a new sensation, and a welcome one. I’m pleasantly shocked at how much I’ve been able to accomplish on my own, along with the help Ethan and our friends have contributed.
The weeds are gone, the grass is cut back, and the ground isn’t covered in garbage. The main building and the exterior of all the cabins have been painted, thanks to the donation of paint from Turner. All of the broken windows have been cleaned up, and while many are still boarded, waiting for replacements, there are no longer jagged edges sticking out everywhere. And that’s just what I can see from my truck. Climbing down, I wander around the upper field, where I could easily envision some campsites and trailer hook ups. As I walk back down toward the water, I take stock of the property, thinking about what still needs to be done. I’m finally at a stage where I can see the finished resort much more clearly in my head. A swimming dock, floating out in the water. A new patio off the main building with a big grill families can use to cook on. Adirondack style chairs out front of each cabin. I want to make my dad’s vision come true of Oceanside Resort being a high quality, comfortable place for families to come and visit.
But daydreaming about the future isn’t helping me get there any faster. There’s still so much to do, and I know I should get going. Yet, for some reason, today I feel like I deserve to take a few more minutes to simply feel proud of myself. Sitting on the sand, leaning against my favourite log on the beach, I look out at the water and let my eyes fall shut. The sound of the waves, seagulls in the distance, and the feel of the sun on my face are the only things I focus on. As always, I’m grateful to my yoga practice for giving me the ability to just shut out the world and turn my thoughts inward. So many times, I find it’s the only path to peace for me. And lately, dealing with finding out Dad died, then Oceanside, then Ethan…well, it’s safe to say peace has been hard to grasp. For good reasons and not so good reasons.
Apparently, the universe has decided that inner peace is not a priority for me right now as the sound of a car driving up pulls me from my reverie. I stand slowly and stretch my arms up high as I smile out at the water. My guess is that it’s Ethan, and after I give him crap for being here and not at city hall like he said he needed to be, I might convince him to come down to the beach for some fun. There’s a large blanket in the back of my truck that we could spread out, and the log acts as an excellent privacy screen from anyone who might arrive. Although, it’s not as if I have many visitors out here.
But when I turn around, it’s not Ethan’s truck I see parked up by the building. A sleek black sportscar is there instead, and the man climbing out is definitely not my lumberjack. Even from a distance I can tell that this guy was born to wear a suit. Especially when he buttons up the jacket as he looks around, in that casual, hot-guy-wearing-a-suit way.
“Can I help you?” I call out as I walk toward him, keeping a cautious distance. After all, I’m here alone and this man is a total stranger. I pull my phone out and unlock it with my thumb as well. Not that it’ll do me much good if he really is here for nefarious reasons, but it makes me feel mildly better.
“Are you Summer Harris?” the suit asks, walking over but stopping at a respectful distance. He gets a point for that.
“Yes, who’s asking?”
He seems surprised and somewhat offended by my question. As if I should know who he is. Apparently, his ego is as rich as his car.
“My name is Cole Devereaux, Ms. Harris. I own Devereaux Hotels International. Were you unaware I was coming?”
Holy shit. Cole Devereaux is here, standing in front of me in a suit that probably costs more than my truck. Wait. Why is Cole Devereaux here? I may not have recognized the man standing before me, but even I’ve heard of Devereaux Hotels. They’re a huge company of luxury hotels spread across Canada. So why is their CEO at Oceanside?
“I most definitely was unaware,” I say bluntly, my thoughts churning.
“Well then, I apologize for catching you by surprise. That was not my intention, let me assure you. I’ve actually been trying to reach you for some time,” he says smoothly, then his lips thin. “Your town mayor seemed reluctant to provide me with any means to contact you directly.” He frowns, clearly unhappy with that.
And I don’t blame him, I’m pretty fucking unhappy to hear that as well. Never in a million years would I have guessed Ethan would keep something like this from me. I thought he knew how important honesty was to me.
“What did you want to talk about, Mr. Devereaux?”
“Please, call me Cole.” He smiles at me, not bothering to disguise his quick appraisal of my appearance. He may be handsome, but I don’t appreciate the attention. Not at all.
“Okay, Cole, then call me Summer.” I keep my voice steady and neutral. There’s no way I want this snake charmer of a man to know he’s rattled me. I’m not scared of him, but I am scared of what I suspect has happened. And that has nothing to do with Cole Devereaux, and everything to do with Ethan Monroe.
He nods. “Excellent, Summer. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I wanted to speak with you about an exciting offer I have for you.” His eyes roam around the property, and I wonder if he sees what I see. Probably not. He has no idea how bad it was before, and let’s be honest, to a man used to luxury the way he obviously is, this place still looks like a dump. “To be frank, I wish to buy this property from you.”
My stomach feels heavy and I take an involuntary step back at his words. The voice that has been panicking inside of my brain about my lack of funds is cheering in relief. Sell the property and be done with the stress. But my heart is reminding me of my dad. Of how much he wanted me here, running Oceanside Resort with him. Even with him gone, the idea of not fulfilling his dream hurts. Cole is still talking, but all I hear is a buzzing sound. It’s not even the fact that someone wants to buy Oceanside that has me so shocked. No, it’s the fact that Ethan obviously knew about this, and didn’t tell me. Did Mila know? Serena? Paige? Did everyone but me know there was an option on the table that would eliminate all of my worries? Even if I had no intention of taking it, the very fact that Ethan kept it from me, prevented me from making the decision for myself, hurts deeply. He let me get close to him. I opened up to him physically and emotionally. I thought we were developing something real, something that felt a lot like love, and now I find out he has been, in essence, lying to me for a long time.
“When did you first talk to Mayor Monroe?” I interrupt whatever Cole was saying. Oh God, if he was lying to me even before we crossed the line between friendship and lovers…
“A week or so ago. My team informed him of our intent to contact you about purchasing the land. We’ve been scouting oceanfront properties on Vancouver Island for some time, and this place has been on our radar for some time.”
I nod my head, hearing his words and letting them sink in. Did Ethan know about this the night we spent at the cabin? What about all of the nights since then, when we’ve fallen asleep together, made love, talked about the future. Did he know? Was he keeping this from me that entire time? My heart is racing, and I feel nauseous. Ethan lied to me.
“Perhaps we could discuss this further over lunch? I really think you’ll appreciate the offer I’ve prepared, and I’d enjoy the opportunity to go over it with you,” Cole asks, and though the words are innocent enough, there’s an underlying tone that makes me uncomfortable somehow. I realize he’s come closer to me.
“I don’t think —“
Tires spray gravel everywhere and I look up to see Ethan’s truck come to an abrupt stop. Relief and anger do battle in my heart at the sight of him. I don’t want to be alone with this Devereaux guy any longer.
He climbs down from his truck slowly, warily, his eyes going from Cole, to me, and then back to Cole, where they narrow slightly.
“Mr. Devereaux, I assume?” he says curtly, striding up to Cole. I watch the two men face off silently, both standing rigid and tall, assessing each other’s weaknesses. After several minutes of Ethan looking like he’s ready to head into battle, while Cole stands back with a smug expression on his face, I can’t stand it anymore.
“Stop fucking staring each other down. What the hell, Ethan, why didn’t you tell me about the offer?” I say, breaking their standoff. They turn to me, and the differences in their expressions are stark, almost comical. Ethan is clearly worried about my reaction to everything, while Cole seems triumphant. Which is very presumptuous of the man, seeing as I have given him no indication that I want to take whatever offer he is putting on the table.
