Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
She was right—today was special. It wasn’t fair for me to let my problems bring the mood down. But it was hard. This was the last family event we’d host at the Sea Sprite. The last time we’d all gather together on the back patio to watch the sunset. The last family portrait we’d take on the bluff. I clenched my jaw to keep my chin from wobbling at the thought. I wondered what my grandparents would think about everything going on. No doubt they would love seeing everyone together, celebrating, but I also couldn’t help but wonder if they’d be disappointed.
I found myself staring at the wall of photos behind the reception desk. So many memories going back decades. Soon it would all be gone—bulldozed into nothingness.
As if she could sense what I was thinking about, Karlie placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” she said.
I shrugged because I didn’t trust myself to respond just yet.
She reached out, straightening one of the frames. “When does the deal become final?”
“Dunno. I didn’t want any part of it, so I signed a power of attorney over to your dad so he could sign all the documents on my behalf.” I wondered if the fact that James no longer worked at the law firm meant he was no longer involved in the transaction. A splinter of disappointment lodged in my chest at the thought. That would mean he no longer had reason to return to McBride which meant I truly never would see him again.
I let out a trembling breath. I could feel tears threatening to fall, and I swallowed them back the best I could.
Karlie slipped her fingers through mine, holding my hand tightly, and her strength helped ease the pain in my heart. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she said softly. “With James and the Sea Sprite.”
I nodded. There really wasn’t anything more I could say.
“I’m going to miss this place too, you know.” Her lips twitched into a nostalgic smile. “God I have so many memories here! Remember when Nana and Grandpa took that European cruise and Uncle Mark was supposed to look after the place but he got the flu so he left it in our hands and we threw that huge party?”
I laughed. “And someone thought it would be a brilliant idea to steal all the lawn gnomes from any house in a ten-block radius and hide them on the grounds like it was an Easter egg hunt?”
She chuckled. “God knows there are probably some still out there. I still sometimes see Mrs. McGinty poking in the bushes with her cane hoping to find the ones she never recovered.”
“I had my first kiss that night. It was with Dennis Dupree at the foot of the stairs leading down to the beach. I pretended to trip, and he caught me in those big strong arms of his.” I let out a nostalgic sigh at the memory.
“I got you beat—I lost my virginity that night to Ralph Calhoun in the Turret Room.”
I ripped my hand out of hers and spun to face her. “Ew, gross, Karlie! That’s the room James was staying in!”
She started laughing harder at the expression of horror on my face. “Then I guess it was lucky for both of us!”
I pretended to gag. “Thanks for ruining that stroll down memory lane.”
She punched me on the shoulder. “At least I made you laugh. It’s nice seeing you smile again.”
I had to give her credit for that; it had been a while since I’d felt like laughing, and it had felt good to remember what it felt like.
The moment was interrupted by the front door opening, and I swung around, a small hope in my heart that it might be James. But of course it wasn’t. Instead, two men strolled into the lobby holding hands. One was taller than the other, and a little older with sharp features softened by a hint of afternoon stubble and slightly mussed hair. The other was a little shorter and younger and definitely shaggier with thick brown hair and hazel eyes.
The younger one hesitated and looked around, taking in the balloons gathered along the ceiling and the other party supplies strewn across the room. “Um, hi. Sorry, to interrupt. Are y’all open for guests?”
“Of course,” I told them, waving them over. “We’ve got plenty of room. Come on in.” I studied them as surreptitiously as possible as they crossed the lobby toward the reception desk. It wasn’t unheard of to have guests come in without prior reservations, but over the years it had become rarer and rarer. Given how these two were dressed—one in pressed khakis and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the other in dark jeans with a Mordor Fun Run T-shirt—they didn’t quite fit the profile of our usual customers. I glanced behind them into the parking lot, taking note of the rental car. It was high-end—a shiny sleek convertible. Definitely not the norm for our clientele.