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"You know Elara, I remember you being smiley, but I don't remember you being this smiley!"
My real estate agent, Jenna, an old friend from high school, was meeting with me to discuss options for selling Dad's old bar once the refurbishments were complete. At least, that's what we were supposed to be doing.
But I couldn't concentrate.
Because last night Cole had blown up my brain like a cock-guided nuclear missile.
"I'm in a good mood, I guess." I said, trying not to give the game away.
"Must be the sea air."
Must be my six-foot-two neighbor with a body like a god and a mind so filthy I wanted to lick it clean.
"Yep. The sea air. Puts color in your cheeks, no doubt about it."
I'd definitely gotten more than I'd bargained for last night. Thankfully, Cole hadn't left any telltale marks on me. That I knew of. I hadn't had a proper look at my butt. I wondered if there was a huge red handprint where he'd grabbed me and lifted me across his trailer. Actually, I hoped he had left a mark there.
We were in Java Joe's, a small, cozy coffee shop a few doors away from O'Neils. This place was a perfect example of the type of café you would never find in New York. The décor was welcoming but about as chic as a grandma's living room. Floral wallpaper, old china cups, and couches that seemed to swallow you whole.
"I'm very impressed by the look of the bar, by the way,” said Jenna. “You've only been working on it for a couple of days?" We'd just come from O'Neil's, where Jenna had taken some measurements and had a look at our plans.
"Yep. Cole McCoy is helping me with the renovation. He's going to take the old bar out, too, so that whoever buys it has a blank slate."
"Cole McCoy? That old grump?" Jenna asked incredulously, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Remember when we were in school and his dad did some work on the sports hall roof?"
Holy hell. How had I forgotten that? Images of a young Cole popped into my mind. Standing by the sports hall, arms stubbornly crossed, occasionally passing things to his dad, his face a mask of bored disinterest. I'd been terrified of him. How things had changed. "You know, he's actually not that bad once you get to know him."
Once you get his face buried deep between your thighs. Oh, god. Don’t blush, Elara.
"Well, if he's doing you a good turn, he must have some redeeming qualities," Jenna conceded, taking a sip of her coffee. "Now, when it comes to buyers, what did you have in mind?"
The question took me by surprise. "I don't really have much say in that, do I?"
"For sure you do." She took out a smart blue folder, opened it up, and showed me a couple of listings for commercial property nearby. Jenna had changed a lot since high school. Back then, she had a reputation for being a bit of a bad girl. I wondered how many of my high school friends still called Bluehaven Beach home. "Bluehaven Beach is hot property right now. Prices are at a record high. Historically, the center of town has been owned and operated independently."
"Right."
"If you want to, you can absolutely limit yourself to independent buyers. Retain the charm and feel of the main street." She arched her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "If that's your strategy, you’ll likely take longer to sell, and probably won't achieve what a developer or chain store could offer. But, of course, it depends on your priorities."
I pursed my lips as I considered this. "So it could change the feel of the place if I sell to the wrong buyer? I didn’t realize the future of Bluehaven Beach was in my hands."
Jenna smiled kindly, putting her hand over mine. “Honey, you’re not responsible for the entire town. The decision you make has to be the right one for you, first and foremost. If selling for as much as possible is your priority, well, frankly, there are positives to having a chain store on the street. Low prices, healthy competition—”
"A chain store could put some of the smaller stores out of business."
Jenna chewed the end of her pen. "Hmm, I'm not so sure about that. The tourism trade is strong here, and the local economy has never been better. I mean, it's hard to know for certain, but I doubt it. We could be talking about a lot more money from a developer, Elara.” She raised her palms. “I’m not trying to sway you in a particular direction. I just want to make sure you know the facts before you make a decision."
I wondered what my dad would have done. It was hard to know. He loved Bluehaven Beach, that was for sure. But he also would have pushed me to do whatever I needed to do to achieve my dreams. I had to make sure that I was focused on getting back to New York City. It wasn’t like I’d come back here to play superhero to the town I’d always wanted to escape.
"I guess we could at least hear what the larger buyers have to say?"
"I think that's smart. Then if you need to sell quickly, you have the option."
We made a little small talk, and Jenna took a few more details from me about the sale. "You know, I have a meeting with a local company that's looking to acquire some property in the area. I'll mention O'Neil's to them, put some feelers out."
"Sounds good." I got the impression that Jenna was quite into the idea of selling the bar to the highest bidder. I didn't blame her, of course, and it was good of her to even raise the issue with me. I could have done without this confusion, though. It gave me a weirdly yucky feeling in the pit of my stomach. And after all the yummy feelings I’d experienced yesterday, I had kinda been hoping to bask in that sunshine for a little longer.
***
