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“Do you think you’ll go to the celebration of life?” Whitney asked.
Sarah didn’t know. “He may have died never knowing the truth about how my grandma felt about him.”
“Maybe he did know,” Jessica said. “And maybe he’s finally with her now.”
“Maybe,” Sarah said as she sighed. Her grandmother and Jack had always loved each other, but they’d never found a way back to each other after the war tore them apart.
Could Sarah find the courage to go after the love of her life?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
If there was an award for how bad a person could mess something up, he had to at least be in the running for it. Wes ran a hand over his exhausted face as he turned into his driveway the next morning after meeting Lia for a quick coffee before she’d left to head back to New York. She’d confirmed what she’d alluded to the night before. Sarah had walked out on her pitch meeting, essentially quitting her job in the process to be there for Marissa.
He didn’t deserve Sarah.
She was amazing and kind and beautiful and for the first time since Kelly, he’d felt something. Something real. And he’d panicked and messed it up. He’d been afraid and unsure and he’d let his own hesitation get in the way of something incredible. The last two days, all he could think about was her.
She was still in town. He’d noticed her car parked at the inn when he’d driven past. He’d been tempted to stop, but he’d also seen Whitney’s vehicle in the driveway and hadn’t wanted to interrupt. Obviously the friends were getting together before Sarah left town. He’d stop by later to fix the cellar door, and maybe she’d give him a chance to at least apologize for being an asshole.
His cell rang, and he glanced at the unknown number on call display before answering. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this…Sharrun’s Construction?” an unfamiliar female voice asked.
“This is Wes Sharrun,” he said.
“I was wondering if your company did rebuilds of cabins as well as B&Bs?” the woman asked.
A rebuild of a cabin? “Is it your personal cabin?”
“No, I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. My name is Awilda Melendez and I own Melendez Cottages. We were forced to shut down after weather damage from a storm last year, but we are hoping to reopen next summer. Unfortunately, there’s significant work that needs to happen before then.”
Wes was too stunned to answer. Melendez Cottages were along Highway 1 and they’d been there for years. He remembered staying there himself on a fishing and hunting trip with his father when he was a teen. There was at least forty cabins in the area, and they’d been shut down for a while. They’d suffered excessive damage in the hurricane-like weather they’d seen on the coast the summer before.
“Mr. Sharrun?”
“Oh, yes, sorry, I’m still here.”
“So, would your company be capable of a job that size? Do you have time to give us a quote?”
Absolutely. He cleared his throat. “Yes. I can and I do. Tomorrow too soon?” His aunt would kill him for acting eager, but he was beyond eager. Opportunities like this didn’t fall out of the sky every day.
She laughed, obviously taking his urgency as a good thing. “Sure. I’m in San Diego right now, so I could drive in and meet you out there tomorrow at noon?”
“Perfect. That’s perfect.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Sharrun. I look forward to meeting you.”
“Likewise…” He paused. “Excuse me, Ms. Melendez, but can I ask how you heard about my company?”
“Your website. I just loved the Dove’s Nest renovations. The combination of modernization while maintaining the original charm was really incredible. We’d like to have that same sort of aesthetic moving forward with Melendez Cottages. Guests these days want to unplug…until they don’t,” she said with a laugh. “We’d like to appeal to all campers, not just those who want to lose themselves in nature.”
His website? She’d seen the Dove’s Nest renos? “Yeah…I totally understand,” he said. He hadn’t until Sarah had proven that tourists really could have the best of both worlds and why should they have to choose. Everyone’s idea of a vacation was different.
Damn, she’d been right about so many things.
“Great. So I’ll see you tomorrow at noon,” she said.
“I’ll be there.”
