Page 19 of Neap & Spring

But the debt.

God, the debt.

There was a massive loan weighing everything down. The amount made me feel physically ill when I first saw it. The monthly payments were bleeding them dry. Every dollar they made went straight to servicing that debt, leaving nothing for growth and definitely nothing for marketing. They were barely making enough to keep the lights on.

It didn’t make sense. Why would a restaurant this size and this successful have that kind of debt?

Looking at the numbers, one thing was clear: the restaurant itself wasn’t failing. It was the debt that was slowly killing it.

They had six months until the bank called in the loan. It was bad. Not unsalvageable, but bad enough that Callum must not be sleeping. He must be hardly breathing with that number crushing him.

Neap & Spring sat right on the water, just like the photos showed. But the photos didn’t capture how beautiful it was in person. The morning light hit the weathered wood and made it glow. The ocean stretched out behind it. There were flower boxes under the windows with lavender and wild grasses, and a small herb garden on the side that looked well-tended.

It was exactly the kind of place Callum said he would build.

I sat in my car for five minutes, gripping the steering wheel and trying to breathe. In through my nose, out through my mouth.

I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. Touched up my lip balm even though it didn’t need it. Straightened my blazer. Picked up my iPad and set it back down. Picked it up again.

I reached for the file in my passenger seat and opened it one more time. Stalling. I was definitely stalling.

But the numbers just didn’t make sense. A restaurant this gorgeous, in this location, with Callum’s talent behind it should be thriving. And from what I could tell from the file, it was thriving. The reviews I’d found online were raving.

It just didn’t add up. New restaurants didn’t usually carry that kind of loan, not unless something had gone very wrong. An investor pulling out? A lawsuit? Construction that went wildly over budget?

I’d have to ask questions and figure out what happened.

But first, I had to walk through those doors.

I made it to 9:58 before I forced myself out of the car.

I stood too fast and had to catch myself on the car door, waiting for the dizziness to pass before I could make myself move. The gravel was loud under my heels. The porch steps creaked with each step. My hand found the door handle, and I didn’t let myself hesitate. The front door was unlocked.

I stepped inside, and the dining room took my breath away.

There was wood everywhere. It was reclaimed and worn smooth by time and salt air. Exposed beams ran along the ceiling. The tables looked handmade, each one slightly different. The kitchen door sat in the corner of the back wall where I could hear the clang of pans and the low murmur of voices.

And floor-to-ceiling glass framed the ocean so completely it felt like the water was part of the room. You could watch the waves while you ate. You could taste the salt in the air.

I walked deeper into the room, my footsteps soft on the hardwood. I moved toward the windows, drawn by the view and the need to look at something other than the kitchen door where I knew Callum was.

I pressed my fingertips against the glass. It was slightly damp from the morning fog. The ocean was close enough that I could see individual waves, their white caps catching the sun.

I was standing there, staring at the water, when a voice behind me made me jump.

“Can I help you?”

I spun around, my heart in my throat, the iPad nearly slipping from under my arm.

A woman with wild red hair and a bright smile stood there, looking at me expectantly.

“I’m —” My throat was dry. I coughed to clear it. “I’m here for the ten o’clock consultation. With the … owner.”

“Oh! You’re the consultant!” Her whole face lit up. “I’m Frannie. The hostess. Well, hostess and sometimes server and sometimes I help with social media even though Cal doesn’t really believe in social media, but I’m working on him.” She says it all in one breath. “I’ll grab him for you. One sec!”

She disappeared through a door before I could respond, leaving me alone in the dining room with my racing heart and the sound of the ocean through the windows.

This was it.