at me again, one eyebrow lifted. “I was here first. You came and stood next to me.”
My heart thumped. Had he really been on the beach when I came down? Did I seriously not notice him? I tried to rewind the last twenty minutes, but I honestly couldn’t remember seeing him. I had been so focused on getting to the ocean and feeling the sand on my bare feet that I might have walked right by him.
Heat hit my cheeks in a furious blush. “Well, I just—” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Sounds like it.”
I thought that was the end of the conversation, and I turned to go. I shouldn’t have ever started talking to him in the first place. I couldn’t explain exactly why I did. Or why I cared what he thought about me. Maybe it had something to do with his neck. And forearms. And the scrumptious way the stubble covered his jaw.
But then, that handsome jaw had to go and move.
“If you don’t want to be a jerk, maybe don’t take your long day out on other people. Just a thought.”
Rage moved through my body from my fingertips to my toes like a hot wind. I opened my mouth to say something I’m sure I would have regretted when a large wave crashed into me. Water slapped against my shins and knees, making me gasp as the spray hit my thighs. My feet sank deeper into the wet sand, and my anger dissolved like the foam along the shoreline.
“He’s not worth it,” I muttered to myself, turning back toward the dunes. My hair whipped in front of my face, blocking my view of him and making it easier to walk away from this man who didn’t know me at all.
10
The new phone situation was perfect for two things: a fresh start with only a dozen or so contacts, and a reminder of the limited funds in my bank account. Not that I was broke. I had a good nest egg saved—though for what nest, I didn’t know—and would be receiving a severance from my company. But the idea of not having an income was starting to hit me, especially right in the wallet.
Especially as I sat at Nana’s kitchen table, listening to Emily talk about tile choices, permits, and timelines. And, above all, a budget that I knew would be way more than I had anticipated. A thought that made my mouth go dry.
Ann was probably right that we should just list the place. Or maybe replace the carpet and ripped screens. But if we did that, we might as well replace the kitchen counters and the old windows. While we were at it, we should paint and maybe get a new vanity in the bathroom …
No matter how sweaty my palms got at the idea of seeing the final estimate, some stubborn part of me just couldn’t stomach the thought of selling as is. At the image of a bulldozer dismantling this place that held so many good memories.
“You okay?” Emily asked, studying me with a frown. “You look like you’re about to puke. Is it the heat?” She fanned herself as if proving the point.
“I’ve almost gotten used to it by now. Or gotten used to dripping with sweat all the time. I’m fine, but … maybe don’t tell me the final estimate for all this.”
Emily smiled. “No problem. These are just ideas and projected plans. With the Crud, it’s better to give them more than we may need and get it approved. We can scale back as needed. But going back again to add things is harder. Jackson wants to have it all done in one fell swoop if possible.” She glanced down at her tablet. “The Crud inspector should be by any minute now. They can be a little … finicky.”
“Wait—what’s the Crud? And why does the inspector need to come before we even know what we’re doing?”
Emily sighed, tucking a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “The Commission for Renovation and Development, or the CRD. We call them the Crud for short. It’s more fitting. Basically, they’re the iron fist of Old Island, slowing down everything and making it all more expensive. For the sake of preservation. I actually love the classic Sandover look. I do. But I don’t feel like it should be enforced by a bunch of uptight snobs drunk on their own power.”
“Wow. They sound delightful.”
She made a face, which