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“Callan, darling, money is money. We need it to survive, but it shouldn’t rule us.” I feel like I’ve been scolded. I’m not sure though, since she’s still wearing a beautiful smile on her lips. This town’s messing with me.
“Eileen, who is this?” a man asks as he moves to our table and takes as seat. I’m shocked... in the city a stranger would never walk up and sit without being invited. I’m going to have to try to get used to this while I’m here.
“Dale, this is Callan, the man I told you about yesterday,” Eileen says.
Dale gives me a suspicious look. “You’re the one wanting to bring some fancy resort here,” he says, not looking like he’s onboard with the idea. This I’m used to. I’ve had to soothe residents egos before, but in the end they’re all pleased.
“Yes, I’m Callan.” I don’t address the resort issue. We’ll have a town meeting if I decide to move forward with the project. At this point I’m not sure I’m going to. To hell with the box left on Gramps’s desk.
He and Eileen start talking, only letting me get in a few words here and there as another twenty minutes pass. This Sasha character is way beyond late now. That’s unacceptable. I’m not going to hire her. I’ll find someone else. Before I voice this, Dale keeps talking. He leans in, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“You want to see something really cool?” he asks. His voice is rough, likely from years of working on the ocean and smoking unfiltered cigarettes.
“I’ve seen a lot of cool stuff in my life,” I tell the man. I have to admit I’m intrigued though. You never know what’s going to come out of these residents’ mouths. I’m already discovering this after less than twenty-four hours in the town.
The man chuckles, the rumbling sound echoing in the café. “I bet you’ve never seen anything this cool,” he assures me.
The man reaches into his worn jacket and pulls out a small, gnarled looking thing. It takes a moment to realize what it is. When I do, I recoil and look at the man in horror. It’s a puckered and scarred... finger. What in the living hell?
“Is that what I think it is?” I finally gasp as the man and Eileen both chuckle.
“You just love shocking the visitors,” Eileen says with delight. I don’t see how in the hell this is funny.
The man grins, his eyes gleaming with absolute mischief. “This is a fisherman’s tale worth talking about,” he says. “It happened many years ago on my beloved Sea Mistress.”
I look at his hand where a finger is missing. I feel only the slightest bit of relief at knowing the finger must be his own. But then again, who in the hell keeps a cut off finger as a souvenir? Apparently, Dale, that’s who. I can’t find my voice so I sit back as he keeps on talking, his voice rising and falling like the ocean waves outside the window of the café.
He dives into the longest fish story I’ve ever heard about a huge storm, an even bigger fish, and a battle of wills against a beast. I’m actually leaning forward as he speaks, completely intrigued by the story. What started off as horror is quickly turning into fascination.
“It was a monster of a fish, the biggest I’ve ever seen. Had to be at least ten feet long and almost as wide. I was determined to bring him in, though, no matter what it cost me.” He gives a dramatic pause. “It was at the edge of my boat when our eyes met. I glared down at the beast who’d been fighting me for over an hour, pulling my boat around like it was nothing. Oh, the joy of that battle will rest within me till my last dying breath.”
I find myself hoping he caught the fish. What’s the point of all of this for it to simply get away? How I’m so drawn into this story, I’ll never know. Maybe this town is weaving its magic around me after all. He slams his hand on the table, and makes me jump. No one else even flinches. I have a feeling he’s told this tale many times before with the same dramatic affects.
“Then it happened. The damn fish snapped my line and took off like a lightning bolt. I was so damn pissed it took a while before I noticed the line had wrapped around my finger and clean snapped it off. That damn fish stopped his run about fifty feet from my boat and leapt from the water, his eyes once again connecting with mine. There was victory in his, and defeat in my own. I saluted him though, because it was an epic battle, and he came out the champion. I looked down on the floor of my boat and saw my finger lying there. I wrapped it up, then wrapped my hand and made my way back to shore. I took the finger to my local taxidermist and had him preserve it. It’s a reminder of my battle.”
I’m left speechless when he’s done with his story. I have no clue what to say. He stands, pats my shoulder with his gnarled hand, then walks away. Eileen tells me she has to get going, but Sasha will arrive soon so have patience.
I’m too stunned to move, or I’d get up and leave. Screw this Sasha. She’s ridiculously late now, and this meeting isn’t going to happen. I’m too well-respected to sit around and wait for anyone.
As soon as I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’ll leave and head over to the realtor’s office. I’m sure someone there can find a person to show me around. I can’t imagine property sales keep them very busy here. The turnover is too slow. Good. My mind made up, I decide to finish my coffee and be on my way.
Chapter Five
Sasha
I’m late! I’m known for never being on time, but this is a bit absurd. I was planning to make an entrance, but this is bad, even for me. Even though I was dragged into taking Callan around our town, I’m excited about it. I enjoy a good challenge, and this is the challenge of a lifetime. This man is causing quite the stir around town. A few are excited at the prospect of a new resort, but I’d say the majority want nothing to do with it.
This man wants to transform our beautiful, small seaside town into some corporate paradise. Most of us don’t consider resorts a paradise, unless they’re somewhere else. We have all we need in our small town, and we don’t need this Callan. His resort won’t happen without one hell of a fight. I’m sure he’ll give up.
Stepping from my car, I pause to appreciate the salty sea air, the tang of the ocean, and the aroma of sweetness filtering from the bakery down the street. I square my shoulders and, with a determined stride, push my way into the Mermaid Café.
I immediately spot Callan. He sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s the only person in the café in a business suit. Surrounded by a crowd of people in casual beachwear, it’s amusing how out of place he looks. Let the show begin.
I enjoy being happy far too much to let this bring me down. There’s no use being frustrated or unhappy about this situation. This man won’t alter my positive mood. I love looking at the glass as half full. It makes life much easier and better. We’ll drive him out with our glowing personalities.
My grin firmly in place, I make my way to the man who appears to be less than pleased as he looks up and watches me move toward him. Without a second thought, I grab the chair, flip it around, then plop down, letting my arms hang over the back. He gives me a look filled with confusion and a bit of horror.
“Hi there. Fancy meeting you here,” I say in the bubbliest voice I can possibly manage.
