Chapter21
The meeting dissolved into scattered conversations about generator rentals and emergency contact lists.Cassidy watched Bryan’s empty chair and felt everyone’s careful glances.
Sally appeared at her elbow.“Walk with me.”
They stepped outside into air thick with humidity and the promise of the coming storm.
“What was that about?”Cassidy asked.
Sally’s face showed the careful neutrality of someone choosing her words.“Dorothy mentioned Bryan stopped by Harbor Brew earlier.Saw you on a phone call.”She paused.“He turned around and walked right back out.”
Her stomach dropped.The call with David.She’d sat at a corner table for privacy, but she hadn’t been hiding.Had Bryan heard her discussing deliverables and implementation timelines?Had he drawn conclusions before she’d even sorted through the mess herself?
“Where does he live?”
Sally gave her the address without hesitation.“Be gentle with him.That boy’s been carrying the weight of the world since his daddy died.”
She drove through streets she’d learned to navigate without GPS.The cottage Bryan owned sat in a neighborhood of small bungalows with wide porches and mature palm trees.His truck occupied the driveway.Lights glowed inside.
She parked and sat with her hands on the wheel.The smart thing would be to let this go.Give him space.Let the storm pass, literally and figuratively, then approach him when emotions weren’t running high.
But she’d spent her entire adult life making the smart choice, the strategic choice, the choice that protected her career at the expense of everything else.Look where that had gotten her.
She climbed out of her car.
The porch light flickered on as she approached.Bryan opened the door before she could knock, standing in the threshold with his arms crossed and his expression carefully blank.
“Mom tell you where I live?”
“Sally, actually.”Cassidy held her ground.“We need to talk.”
“I think you said everything that needs saying at the meeting.”
“I didn’t say anything at the meeting.You did.”
A muscle worked in his jaw.“You want to come in and discuss storm protocols?Review vendor contracts one more time before you head back to Chicago?”
The bitterness in his voice cut deep.
“I want to understand why you’re treating me like I did something wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”He stepped back from the door but didn’t invite her in.“You were always clear about why you were here.A sabbatical.A temporary arrangement.I’m the fool who forgot that.”
She moved forward before he could shut the door.The cottage interior was sparse but comfortable.A worn sofa faced a bookshelf crammed with maritime histories and fishing guides.Framed photographs covered one wall.The Lucas family through the decades, Bryan’s father standing proud in front of The Sandpiper’s original sign.
“Dorothy said you heard me on the phone this morning.”
“Wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”He moved to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, staring at its contents without taking anything out.“Came in for coffee.Heard you talking about digital integration and return dates.Figured it out pretty quick.”
“Figured what out?”
He shut the refrigerator and turned to face her.“That this whole thing was exactly what it looked like from the start.High-powered executive takes on small-town project to pad her resume and prove she’s still sharp.Returns to her real life with a nice story about how she helped the locals.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?”He leaned against the counter.“You showed up here with your color-coded schedules and your marketing expertise, and I was foolish enough to think maybe you actually cared about the festival.About the town.”His voice dropped.“About me.”
“I do care.”
