Chapter3
Cassidy woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming through the cottage windows and the disorienting sensation of having nowhere to be.
No morning meeting and no inbox full of overnight emails from the London office.No carefully timed coffee run between back-to-back calls.
Just silence and the faint sound of waves.
She lay in bed for three minutes, staring at the ceiling, before the stillness became unbearable.
By seven-thirty, she was dressed—shorts and a linen shirt, the most casual outfit she’d packed—and headed into town.If she had to sit in the cottage for another hour with nothing but her thoughts, she’d lose her mind.
Harbor Brew was busier than it had been yesterday.The tables outside were full, and inside, a line snaked back from the counter.Jan moved behind the counter, calling out orders and chatting with regulars like she had all the time in the world.
Cassidy joined the line and pulled out her phone.No new emails.She refreshed anyway.Still nothing.
She put the phone away and studied the chalkboard menu.When she finally got her order, she headed to an empty table.
She almost laughed as she settled into her seat and looked up.The Wi-Fi password at Harbor Brew was handwritten on a chalkboard: LOCALFIRST.
She stared at the password again, then typed it with more force than necessary.The tablet connected.She opened her email.
The first message was from Steve, sent to the entire team:Great news!The Riverside account just renewed—18% increase!Thanks for trusting me with this one.
Her account.Her strategy.Her client relationship.
The second email was worse.HR, following up on her wellness goals for the sabbatical:Remember, Cassidy, the objective is complete disconnection from work.We’re confident the team can handle things in your absence.
She closed the tablet before she threw it.This town seemed to always make her want to throw her tablet.
A cinnamon roll sat untouched on a small plate, and she stared out the window.An older man stopped to help a woman load groceries into her car.Two kids chased each other down the sidewalk, laughing.A dog dozed in a patch of sun outside the bookstore.
It was...fine.Pleasant.Unobjectionable.
“More coffee, hon?”Jan appeared with the pot, already refilling Cassidy’s cup before she could answer.The woman had sun-weathered skin and the kind of easy smile that suggested she’d never spent a single night worrying about quarterly projections.
“Thanks.”She wrapped both hands around the mug.The ceramic was thick, warm, and nothing like the paper cups she usually clutched during conference calls.
“You settling in okay at the lighthouse?”Jan set the pot on the table and leaned against the chair across from Cassidy, not asking permission, just claiming space.
“It’s quiet.”
“That’s kind of the point.”Jan’s smile widened.“Winnie’s got good instincts about who needs what.She put you in Heron Cottage, right?That one’s got the best view of the sunrise.”
“I wouldn’t know.I’m not really a morning person.”Sure, she was.Why had she said that?
Jan straightened, retrieving the coffee pot.“Well, let me know if you need anything.”
She was gone before Cassidy could explain that she didn’t need anything except for her real life back.
The bell over the door jangled.Four women entered in a cluster, laughing about something one of them had said outside on the sidewalk.They were in their late sixties, maybe early seventies, and dressed in casual beach clothes that somehow looked both comfortable and coordinated.They moved with the confidence of people who owned their space.
Jan didn’t take their order.She just brought a pot of coffee and four cups to their usual corner table.
She watched them settle in.She’d done enough market research to recognize a demographic when she saw one.Female, retirement age, fixed income, high community engagement.The kind of customers who’d rather complain about change than adapt to it.
“The festival committee is meeting again soon.”The woman with short gray hair—Donna, based on how the others addressed her—sounded irritated.“I don’t know why the mayor keeps pushing for fresh ideas.We’ve done it the same way for thirty years.”
“Because attendance was down last year.”Another woman, thin and softer-spoken.“And the year before.We need something, Donna.”
