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ago, when Aiden was a freshman in college and Jamie was a high school dropout. Yesterday had been the first time since they’d left that he’d made the two-hour journey back.

“I don’t want to pull out,” Aiden told him firmly. “I want this job. I know the town and I know the people. I can make this work for you.”

Carter Leisure had bought the dilapidated Silver Sands Resort earlier that year. The once-elegant cove to the east of Angel Sands, full of art-deco hotel buildings and Spanish style bungalows, had fallen into disrepair since its heyday in the middle of the last century. But Robert Carter had seen something special in the resort – and had managed to knock it down to a bargain price.

“I know you can do it. I’m wondering why you’d want to.” Robert leaned back in his black leather chair and took a sip of the whiskey. “Do you have something to prove?”

Aiden caught the old man’s eye. “Yeah. Maybe I do have something to prove. That town treated us all like crap. My mom, me… even Jamie. I want to go back and show them exactly who I’ve become.” His eyes flashed. “They expected me to become a criminal like Jamie and my dad. I want them to know how wrong they were about me.”

Robert nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said, approvingly. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He leaned forward, resting his hands on the polished wooden desk. “So how was your meeting with the project manager?”

Aiden took a slow breath in. “It was fine. The timing’s going to be tight, and the budget is already looking low, but Miller Construction knows that’s what they have to work with. They’re experienced; they’ve worked on a lot of hotel projects.”

“And you think the zoning committee will pass our plans?”

“It will if we speak to the right people. That resort’s been an eyesore for years. Redeveloping it and bringing money into the town should make everybody happy.”

Robert smiled broadly. “It’ll make me happy if you bring it in on budget.”

Aiden raised an eyebrow. “Yes, sir.”

“And you’re all set to move down this week?”

“Yep. I’ve found a house to rent, and the movers are packing my things up as we speak.” Not that he had a whole lot. A lifetime of poverty had taught him to only buy what he needed. Even now, when he had more money than he knew what to do with he was still careful with it. And there were his mother’s hospital bills to pay.

“Alice wants you to come to dinner tomorrow. Call it a farewell party if you like. She won’t take no for an answer,” Robert warned.

“I would never say no to Alice.” Robert’s wife was as close to a mother as Aiden had left. “I’ll call her to let her know I’ll be there.”

“Cheers.” Robert lifted his tumbler of whiskey. “Oh, and Aiden?”

“Yeah?”

“Good luck in Angel Sands.” He raised his glass in the air, as if giving a toast. Aiden did the same, until his tumbler came in contact with Robert’s, their crystal glasses singing at the touch.

“Thanks,” Aiden told him. The truth was, he’d need it.

* * *

Brooke stifled a yawn with the palm of her hand as she walked into the animal shelter. Weren’t weekends supposed to be relaxing? So why was it on Monday morning she found herself more exhausted than ever?

Maybe it was a combination of her parents’ Friday night soiree, and spending Saturday having fun with Nick before pulling an all-nighter to get her college assignment in on time. Whatever the reason, she rolled her shoulders and painted a smile on her lips – one that became real as soon as she saw Max Jenkins, their volunteer vet, crouched down in front of a giant dog, the mutt’s paw on his shoulder as he patiently let himself be examined.

“Is he new?” Brooke asked, pulling her long wavy hair into a pony tail as she walked toward the giant dog. “What’s your name, big guy?” She crouched down beside Max. The dog immediately moved his paw from Max’s shoulder to hers, placing it firmly down on the green cotton of her scrubs.

“He hasn’t got one yet. He was brought in yesterday, somebody found him wandering along the beach. I’m hoping his owner comes forward.”

“Does he have a chip?” Brooke asked, running her hand along the dog’s shoulder where an implant was usually placed.

“Not one that’s working. And no collar either. Maisie’s putting him up on our Facebook page and sending out the word. Hopefully we’ll get him home soon.”

The dog leaned in to nuzzle Brooke, his furry face tickling hers. “Hey bud,” she whispered to him, scratching behind his ears. “Try to think of this as a little vacation before we get you home.”

“I’ve got to head off to surgery,” Max told her, standing up and stretching his arms, as though he was as tired as she felt. It was no wonder – on top of volunteering at the animal shelter, Max ran the Angel Sands Veterinary Practice, taking care of all the town’s pets. An older man in his fifties, he had taken Brooke under his wing as she completed her studies to become a veterinary technician. When her college studies completed in June, he’d promised her a position at his practice. She couldn’t wait to make a start there.

“Oh, and we’ve had a call from the Silver Sands Resort. They want us to send somebody out there,” Max said, tipping his head to the side and giving her a wink. “They’ve found a dog and she’s not playing ball. Asked if we could send out our local mutt whisperer.”

“I’m not a mutt whisperer,” Brooke said, rolling her eyes at him.

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