He left his mother shaking her head and went to deal with the late shipment.The driver apologized for the delay, blamed traffic on the coastal highway, and helped Bryan haul the crates in.By the time everything was stored properly and logged into inventory, the morning rush was starting.
Bryan worked the line, falling into the familiar rhythm of prep and plating.The physical work helped quiet his thoughts.He filleted fish, seasoned portions, and coordinated with his line cooks on timing.This he understood.This made sense.
Unlike whatever was happening between him and Cassidy Wren.
The lunch shift blurred past in a haze of orders and coordination.By the time the last table cleared, his feet ached and his shoulders burned from tension.He should go home and sleep before the dinner service.Instead, he found himself walking toward downtown.
Harbor Brew sat on the main road, its large windows offering a view of the marina beyond.He told himself he was just grabbing coffee, it definitely wasn’t that he was hoping to run into Cassidy.It was pure coincidence he was heading to her favorite spot during her usual afternoon work session.
He pushed through the door and scanned the room automatically.The familiar faces of the Harbor Ladies clustered at their usual table.Marty Fuller sat in the back corner with a stack of books.Jan worked behind the counter, chatting with a tourist couple about the best beaches.
And there, at the table in the far corner with her back to the door, sat Cassidy.
Relief flooded through him before he could stop it.She was here.She was still here.Her laptop was open and papers were spread across the table in organized stacks.She held her phone to her ear and nodded at something the person on the other end was saying.
Bryan started toward her table, already imagining her surprised smile when he appeared.Maybe he’d convince her to take a break.They could walk down to the pier, talk about the final festival preparations.Or maybe they’d just sit together and not talk about the festival at all.
He was halfway across the room when her voice carried over the ambient noise.
“Yes, I can have the preliminary framework to you by Monday.”She paused, listening.“The target demographic for Phillips skews younger than Marnetti, so we’ll want to adjust the messaging strategy accordingly.”
He stopped walking.
“Digital integration will be key,” she continued.“I’m thinking we lead with social media influencers before the traditional campaign rollout.”Another pause.“Yes, sir, the break did me good.”
The words hit him hard.
She was going back.Of course, she was going back.Why had he let himself believe anything different?
He turned and walked out before she could see him.The bell above the door chimed his exit, but he didn’t look back.His heart hammered against his ribs as he strode down Main Street without any particular destination in mind.His feet carried him toward the marina, toward the one place that had always made sense when the rest of his life fell apart.
TheMary Catherinerocked gently at her slip, the afternoon sun warming her deck.He climbed aboard and sat in the captain’s chair, staring out at the Gulf without really seeing it.
He’d been such a fool.
All those conversations about her corporate life, the pressure, and burnout.He’d thought she was talking about leaving that behind.He’d thought when she closed her laptop to sit with him on the beach and danced with him at the fundraiser that she was choosing something different.
Choosing here.Choosing this town.
Choosing him.
But she’d just been killing time until her real life started up again.The festival was a portfolio piece.The town was a quaint distraction.And he was what?A pleasant interlude before she went back to big city life and her fancy marketing words?
Bryan’s phone buzzed.A text from Cassidy.
Committee meeting at four.Storm system headed our way.Mayor wants to discuss contingency plans.
He stared at the message.Professional.Efficient.Exactly what you’d expect from a co-chair keeping her partner informed.
Nothing more.
He typed back a single word.Fine.
His finger hovered over the send button.He wanted to type more.Wanted to ask if she’d already started packing.Wanted to demand why she’d let him fall for her when she knew all along she was leaving.
But that wasn’t fair.She’d never promised to stay.She’d been clear from the beginning about her sabbatical having an end date.He was the one who’d built castles in the air, imagining she might want to make a life here.
Bryan deleted the message and typed a new one.I’ll be there.
