Luke turned to his employees. “Keep up the good work, guys. Let me know what you need. I’ll swing by later to help out.”
“See ya!” they called. A chorus of nail guns and country music on a radio sang us farewell.
I followed Luke down the makeshift dirt road created by tire treads from heavy vehicles. Luke explained that there will be four bungalows at the beginning of the property. Then on each side of the road, there would be some multi-level townhomes. When it was done, there would be fifteen bungalows and fifteen townhomes, for a total of ninety bedrooms.
At the end of the road, he motioned to a large, cleared area. “The last thing we’ll build is a pool, small indoor gym, and basketball court.”
“This is so cool, Luke. No wonder you got the contract from the town. It’s going to be incredible.” I spun in a circle, visualizing what the idyllic little rental neighborhood would look like when it was finished. “And I can’t believe how much progress you’ve already made. I’m so impressed. Plus, this is going to preserve some of the culture of the island—the seasonal workers traveling from around the world to live and work here for the summer. You must be so proud.”
He looked at me from under his eyelashes. “Thanks, Val.” He said it quietly, like he wasn’t sure he agreed.
“What?”
He swallowed, looking around. It was just gaps in between green trees, but with a dream’s worth of potential. “I am proud.”He said it like he was trying to convince himself. “I built something.”
“You did.” I couldn’t help my smile when I added, “Literally and figuratively.” His eyes flashed to mine and his own smile broke on his lips. “Why does it sound like you don’t fully believe it?”
He inclined his head in the direction we came from, and I fell into step next to him. The sky was gray, humidity making my T-shirt stick to my skin. The foretellings of a summer storm.
Luke finally answered my question. “My dad was one of the people that wasn’t super impressed with my career plan. He didn’t think construction was sophisticated enough work for his son. He considered it…I don’t know. He never said it like this, but I could tell he considered it a low-education, blue collar, last-resort job you did if you couldn’t get something else.”
“You have an MBA!” I all but shouted.
His mouth curved. “Yeah, but it’s an online one from Southern New Hampshire University. They let everyone in. It’s not exactly Wharton.”
I stopped walking, wanting to look at him. “I know, but that doesn’t make it inferior. You learn the exact same things at Wharton. And most people who graduate from there are too confident for their own good. Successful businesses don’t spring up naturally from a Wharton diploma frame like a weed. It’s hard work. You found something you loved, learned a skill, started your own business, decided to further your education to enhance your business, you’re working your ass off, and you’re thriving. That’ssoimpressive. And even if you didn’t have that MBA, I still can’t see how your dad would be anything but proud of you.” I was pacing in front of him, gesticulating wildly, not even trying to temper the flare of indignation I felt on Luke’s behalf. He probably thought I was a crazy person. I looked up, expecting to see a look of bewilderment at my outburst.
But instead he was staring at me with something that resembled admiration.
“Sorry,” I said, sheepish.
“Don’t be.” He stepped forward, pulled me into him, and wrapped his arms around my back. It was as if he couldn’t express what he wanted to say with words, so he said it with his body instead. He kissed the top of my hair, and I swore my heart stopped. He stepped back but didn’t break our contact.
We walked to his truck with his arm around my shoulders. Like we did that all the time. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The little touches continued after that—knocking his knee against mine under the table on the nights I stayed for dinner, a hand on my back when he walked me to the door. Some days he would lean his elbow on the doorframe mid-conversation as I exited the front door, like he did that night when I slept in his guest room. When I’d turn around, the urge to raise myself up on my tiptoes and kiss him goodbye would be so powerful it nearly overcame my reluctance to make the first move. But I hadn’t.
On the Wednesday before the fundraiser, I met Francesca for a late lunch at Among the Flowers Café. It was right up the road from the sailing center where I’d just left Luna. It was so sunny today, the rays beating down and warming any exposed skin in an instant. I’d reapplied Luna’s sunscreen with a heavy hand during her lunch break.
“How are you feeling about Friday?” I asked after the teenaged waiter placed our salads on the little white-painted iron café table we’d selected in the shady part of the patio. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“I think we’re in good shape.” She scrunched her petite nose like she was running through a mental checklist. I took a bite of my spinach salad and let her think.
“Yeah, I can’t think of anything. We have fifty gift cards and twenty bigger excursions to auction off, including private charters on the Mad Max catamaran and the Tigress sailboat, fishing tours,windsurfing lessons. I think those will all go for a lot. Plus there’s the raffle and the online donation page. I’m cautiously optimistic we’ll hit the fundraising goal.”
“Everyone I’ve spoken to is really looking forward to it.”
Francesca sucked in a breath and expelled it through pursed, pink lips. “I’m a little nervous. This is one of the biggest events I’ve planned.”
“It’s going to go great,” I said. “And we’ll get lots of pictures you can use for your website, show future clients you can handle a 300-person event.”
She nodded, a glimmer of excitement in her bright, brown eyes.
After a few more bites of our salads, I asked, “So, tell me the full story about you and Jeremiah. How’d he convince you to move here?”
She smirked, wiped her hands on the napkin on her lap, rested her elbows on the edge of our little table, and leaned in conspiratorially. “It is the most random story,” she warned.
“I can’t wait.”
