Colt was close enough for us to have a conversation, but he was doing his best to pretend I wasn’t there. That was fine but now Jake was trying to draw him in. It was going to happen. I felt it coming. Rick turned and suddenly it was the six of us in a half-circle holding our drinks.
“So what are you really doing in Surfside, Anderson?” Bodhi asked.
Colt briefly met my eyes.Me?No. I had no illusions that’s what brought him back.
Colt didn’t get the chance to answer.
“Rumor has it you’re here to rip up the shoreline.”
I stood a little straighter and looked at Colt.What the hell?
Colt shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but I saw a lot in that shrug. It was a big deal. “Maybe at first,” he said. “Then I’ll make it better than it was before.”
“What do you mean?” I blurted out.
He flinched, his jaw setting. There was an expression on his face. Not guilty exactly. More like a man who knew he was about to ruffle some feathers.
“We’re breaking ground on a new port,” he said. “First of the year. Once we get the head office up and running on Front Street.”
I stared at him. “A port.”
“A cruise port.” He almost smiled. I could see the excitement that he was trying to temper. His hands came up. His voice changed. I could hear how excited he was about his little project. “It’s not like anything on this stretch of coast. We run a coastal cruise. Strictly California. Small fleet, curated experience,premium everything. You’re not getting on a floating casino with four thousand strangers. You’re getting the coastline the way it’s supposed to be seen—from the water. Surfside becomes a port of call. People come here, they spend money here, and they fall in love with this place.”
“And then they tell everyone they know,” I said.
He paused. “That’s the idea, yeah.”
I understood every word. I could even follow the logic of it, the neat little business equation he’d been running in his head. Tourism dollars. Economic growth. Surfside on the map. Rising tides lift all boats and all that shit. He’d get a little richer. A lot richer if it went well for him.
But what I saw was something else entirely.
I saw the parking lots that would have to be expanded. The infrastructure that would get bulldozed to make room for docking facilities and passenger terminals. I saw the surf spots I’d been riding since I was nine years old choked with boat traffic and wake. My family’s house was already dwarfed by the mansions that were quickly taking over the shore properties.
I thought about the marine life and what a fleet of cruise ships sitting on the horizon did to a coastline. To the waves. To the view I had been waking up to my entire life. Those boats would come with obnoxious people on jet skis tearing up the waves people like me loved.
I thought about my students and all the kids I put in the water every single morning. What it meant to teach someone to love the ocean and then watch the ocean get loved to death by a few thousand visitors at a time. Our little bonfires would be no more. Right now, it was fine but once the population exploded, there would be more laws because people couldn’t behave themselves. Litter would be everywhere.
I thought about the Salty Anchor. The little surf shop on Third that had been run by the same family for thirty years.When the big money moved in, the small folks moved out. We’d be swallowed up by the corporate world.
My chest felt tight.
“You okay?” Colt asked.
I opened my mouth to tell him every one of my objections, but nothing came out.
Bodhi snorted, his arm moving around my shoulder. “Of course she isn’t, City Boy.” His voice had lost all its usual lazy warmth. “She just found out you’re about to pour your money all over everything that makes Surfside great.” He tilted his chin up as his arm pulled her closer. The possessiveness was evident along with the challenge. “Maybe you should reconsider.”
Colt looked at him like Bodhi was an annoying fly buzzing around his face. Colt could swat him away and honestly I wouldn’t blame him. But in this one thing, I was on Bodhi’s side.
“The deal is done,” Colt said. His voice was almost gentle. “Cruises start summer after next. You’ve got time to plan for it.”
Time to plan for it.
Like we were supposed to be grateful for the runway. Like we should start drawing up the welcome banners and figuring out where to put the overflow parking. Or pack our bags and abandon our homes if we didn’t like it. He just came in with his big, fat checkbook and that was that. Get on board or fuck all the way off.
I set my can down on the nearest cooler.
“I’m done,” I said. “I’m going home.”
