Summer at Oyster Bay: A gorgeous feel good summer romance (5 page)

“I actually loved the colors on the fish itself. Even the eyes were hand-painted.” He looked over at her to get her reaction, clearly not affected by her comment, which was a relief.

“I did too,” she said, thinking how she was going to take another look when she got home. “It would be gorgeous against a bright island-inspired paint—like yellow or pink.

“I’d thought that very same thing,” he said, glancing at her again but this time, interest showing in his face.

“Art is subjective,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Turn here,” she said as they rounded the curve.

They bumped along a rocky road, made a few turns winding them down and behind the trees, through a neighborhood, until they reached the shore of the Rappahannock River. Sitting alongside it, just a few feet from the sand, was a bed of white shells set with tables and chairs, strings of lights illuminating the space around the enormous red umbrellas that protected the patrons from sun on bright days.

“It’s outside?” he asked, parking the car and turning off the engine.

“Yep. They do have that small screened-in area, but the outdoor tables are so much better.”

Charlie got out and walked around the car, meeting Emily. They entered together under the Merroir sign that was suspended with a single pole on either side, creating an entrance for the outside dining area.

A hostess greeted them and took them to a table that sat beneath an oak tree, more white lights encircling its substantial trunk all the way up to the branches. Charlie pulled out Emily’s chair as a yellow Labrador trotted past them and settled himself under a nearby table.

“This is quite unique,” Charlie said, the breeze lifting the edges of the napkins that had been placed beside their menus.

Emily looked around, viewing the place through new eyes. Despite the fact that the majority of seating was outside, men wore buttoned shirts, pressed trousers; women were in sundresses and sunglasses—the atmosphere was casual yet sophisticated, a lot like the food. Along the edge of the restaurant was Locklies Marina, its docks lined with sailboats, the water gently lapping underneath them, causing them to rock.

The waitress came over to get their drink orders. Emily ordered first. She got a Sandy Crab Ale, a local ale known for its quirky brewer—she’d been friends with the owner of the brewery since they were kids.

“I’ll have the same,” Charlie said.

The waitress lit a candle on their table before leaving, the flame working overtime to keep its light against the wind coming off the riverbank.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like this,” he said. “It’s very different to what I’m used to in New York. I’m glad I decided to ask for your help.”

Emily had only been to New York as a tourist, and she couldn’t imagine what living there would be like. While it was an amazing place to visit, it didn’t fit her personality—she’d go crazy without the open space. Even when she’d lived in Richmond, she’d missed it. She just didn’t realize how much. “Do you live in an apartment?”

“Yes. It’s close to everything I need. I could walk to work.”

“Do you?”

“Actually, no. I usually hire a car or get a cab.”

“Why?”

“It gives me a few more minutes to get my work done. The pace is very different there than it is here.”

“I’m sure it is. Libby talks about it sometimes. She lived in New York for a while, you know?”

“I do know. That’s why I hired her. She was a perfect balance of both worlds. I have to admit that I’ve struggled with the pace here. I’m used to the hustle of business but down here everyone seems to be on their own time.” He leaned over the small airy fence used to separate the dining area from the grass. “Look at them,” he said, nodding toward a couple and their dog, walking along the edge of the water. “They were eating a few minutes ago. They’ve paid the check. I’d have gotten in my car and left but they’re still here.”

Emily let out a little laugh. “They’re just enjoying themselves.” She looked back at him, but he was still watching the couple. “In what way can I help you with the planning commission?” she asked.

“I think they see me as threat to the town. They’re worried that by improving the inn, the already growing tourism will increase beyond what they can manage. They think I don’t understand what small-town life is all about. That was the vibe I got.”

“And do you understand what small-town life is like?” Truthfully, she could see their point of view. Clearwater couldn’t handle but so much, and if the inn got too big, the roads would get overcrowded, the beaches full of strangers. She didn’t want that at all. In fact, she totally agreed with the planning commission.

“That’s where you come in. I want you to show me what’s important to the people. I want to develop the inn in a way that will benefit the town, but I don’t think the planning commission trusts me.”

“What do you mean when you say ‘a way that will benefit the town’?”

“I will bring a ton of revenue in, which will move along already proposed improvements that the commission has in the works. Improvements that are stagnant at the moment until the town has enough funds. The expansion will be just enough to bring in the amount of income they’re looking for. I don’t want to overwhelm the city. I just need you to help me understand what life is like here so I can better answer their questions.”

She knew exactly what was important to the people and she’d be more than happy to help him build something that would enable Clearwater to thrive, but it sounded like not everyone in town was on his side. Could she trust him? “Okay,” she said, nodding slowly.

Excitement flickered across Charlie’s face. “Excellent.”

The waitress brought their beers over and set them on beer mats. Emily thanked her and took a sip.

“Libby was very quick to sing your praises when I mentioned to her that I was adding to your duties. She told me about your success with the pub in Richmond. I’m impressed. I have high hopes that you’ll bring a lot to this endeavor.”

“Thank you. I hope to.” The couple walking on the beach laughed at something, and Emily’s attention was drawn to them once again. They seemed so comfortable here, so happy. What was it that made this area so easy to love? Libby had gone away, but she’d come back and now couldn’t imagine ever leaving. She’d given up a very lucrative career in New York just to move back and have a family with her husband, Pete. This area could draw people in and, once they tasted the culture, they often wanted to stay. She worried about what that might do to Clearwater, if Charlie’s plans for the inn took off. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What improvements do you plan on making to the inn?”

He took a drink of his beer, before responding. “I’d like to make it bigger. I acquired it as an investment property. Water’s Edge has huge potential. Tourism in the area is growing. There’s not a lot in the way of high-end accommodations to support this growth. I’m going to provide that. But I’m still finalizing things with the architects. We’ve got a few ideas on the table at the moment.”

She wondered how he could possibly make the inn bigger—it was already so vast. Would expanding it more really improve things as much as he thought?

Charlie sat back in his chair, one elbow leaning on the fence railing beside him. He looked comfortable. He took another sip of his beer and peered down at the insignia on the glass. “Is this a local ale?”

“Yes. It’s one of my favorites. I like Merroir because they have something as casual as this on the drink menu, but they also serve world-famous wines.”

“Tell me what you like to eat,” he said, looking down at his menu.

“Well, it’s a tasting room. Meals are unfussy; it makes it very easy to entertain for a group. You can order a few things and everyone can try them. It’s all made on the grill outside.” She leaned on the table and touched his menu to point out her favorites. “I like the roasted red pepper soup, the sea scallops, or the crabcake.

Charlie leaned in to read a description and she got a whiff of his spicy scent. “It all sounds delicious.” He looked up at her and smiled, creases forming at the edges of his blue eyes, unexpectedly making her feel warmth in her cheeks. Was she blushing? “Thank you for bringing me here. I think it might be just the atmosphere I need when I try
again
to convince the commission. I’m just thankful they’re agreeing to meet me informally.”

“Wait a minute.” It had slipped her mind until that moment. “There’s a man named Rocky McFadden on that committee.”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“He used to build boats with my grandfather. My gram still lets him put his crab pots in the water out back of her house when he has his big Fourth of July parties. I’ve known him all my life.”

“Well, then you’re the perfect person to help me understand him.”

“
P
ark here
,” Emily said as they pulled into the parking lot of the marina. It was much bigger than Locklies and quite a distance away from Merroir. After they’d eaten, Emily decided there was something she wanted Charlie to see. He parallel parked and cut off the engine.

“I’ve actually been here already,” he said. “I wanted to check it out before my photo shoot tomorrow for a local magazine. Apparently, they want to do it here.”

“Swanky,” she said with a grin.

He shrugged her comment off.

She’d never known anyone who found doing a magazine shoot commonplace, but by looking at Charlie’s face, it didn’t seem to be out of the ordinary to him.

As they walked along the edge of the property leading to the long piers that housed lines of beautiful boats, he said, “I’m aware that the community is known for fishing. What else can you tell me about the area?” It was clear by his face that he thought he knew what she was going to show him. Yes, Clearwater was known for fishing, and yes, he’d already seen the marina.

“I don’t plan to tell you,” she said, excitement rising as she thought about where she wanted to take him. “I plan to
show
you.” She stopped walking along the enormous dock and peered down at the modest but still elegant speedboat in front of them. “This is our family boat. Rachel takes care of it, and we call it hers, but we all have keys.” She stepped across the gap between the dock and the boat and hopped in. Clearly surprised, Charlie did the same.

“Take a seat,” she said with a grin. As Charlie sat down, Emily started the boat. She kicked off her shoes to get comfortable and nodded for Charlie to do the same. Hesitantly, he complied. With the motor pattering in low gear, she maneuvered the boat out of the marina toward open water. At first, it took her a moment to get used to steering again—it had been a while, but once she settled in, it came back to her easily, and she could feel her shoulders relax.

Emily relished this time of year, when daylight wouldn’t completely disappear until well into the night. With the sun making it’s gradual descent, hanging low in the sky, and the water spraying out on either side of the boat as they hit the open bay, she headed for a small island. The island was so narrow, Emily could walk from one side to the other. She’d gone with Rachel as a girl—Papa would take them. They’d sit there in the sand all afternoon, watching the sailboats dock out in the water. She remembered the masses of white sails, and how they looked like angel wings.

Charlie was sitting quite straight in the seat beside her, the wind whipping his hair wildly. It made her smile. The flapping of his shirt in the wind, his bare feet, and the fact that he kept looking over at her was playing with her mind. He was so handsome that she almost forgot they were supposed to be doing business.

“When do you have your meeting with Rocky?” she called loudly above the noise of the boat’s motor.

Charlie turned his wrist to view the time on his Rolex. “Five o’clock tomorrow,” he said. “I’d like you to come with me.” He looked over at her again.

“Okay,” she said, a mixture of emotions swimming through her. She wasn’t quite sure what to do now. She hadn’t had a chance to speak to Rocky yet and hear his side to find out why they were putting on the breaks. But then she relaxed a bit. She’d only told Charlie she’d help him understand Rocky; she hadn’t said she’d take Charlie’s side. And it would be nice to go to dinner with Rocky. She hadn’t seen him or his wife Elizabeth in so long.

Emily slowed the boat down as they approached land. The little island had no trees, the center a slight hill, the sea grasses growing at an upward climb. A beach with the softest sand she could remember ever feeling encircled the whole island. Emily allowed the boat to slide up near the beach, just enough that she could hop off the side. The water splashed up on her dress when she jumped down.

“Hang on,” she said, standing ankle deep in the water. “I’ll pull the boat up on the shore and you can step onto the sand.” She worried about his expensive clothes. He looked as though he wasn’t sure, like he wanted to take charge, but he didn’t know what needed to be done. With the water’s help, Emily pulled the boat by its side handles and dragged it up until it stopped in the sand.

“You should’ve let me do that for you,” he said, hopping down.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It just seems right that
I
help
you
off the boat.”

She smiled, flattered by his manners. “Well, I was taught how to get the boat on the shore as a child. I’m used to it. Wanna take a walk?”

Charlie stepped up beside her and she led him toward the grass, where a footpath emerged.

“This is beautiful,” he said, looking around between steps, noticeably watching to protect his bare feet from obstacles on the path.

They reached the other side of the island, and just as she’d expected, the view was outstanding. The sun sparkled off the water, and everywhere she looked were sailboats, their white sails fighting against the wind. It was so spectacular that her breath caught. In that moment, for no reason at all, the past three years in Richmond ran through her mind—coming home to Brad, how they’d been looking for a new couch together, the plant in the kitchen that he always forgot that probably needed watering, the spot on the coffee table where he left his coffee cup every day, and the moment when she realized her heart just wasn’t in it. Looking back on it all as she stood here, it was as though she had been drowning and she could only now catch her breath.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked, and she noticed her breathing and her pounding heart.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I was just thinking…” She sat down on the dune and looked up at him because he seemed to be deliberating on what to do. After a moment, he followed her lead, putting his knees up, his bare feet masculine against the gentle sand.

“What were you thinking about?”

“I had a close call.” Her answer just sort of came out in a rush as if she’d wanted to tell it to him, yet she never told strangers this kind of thing, especially not someone she worked for. All her friends had called after that awful meal, but she’d only barely managed to talk to Rachel.

“What kind of close call?” He didn’t seem overly bothered by the personal conversation, although he didn’t look totally relaxed either.

“I almost…” Should she say it? “I almost married the wrong person.”

A look of shock sprung to his face, but he quickly regained composure. Why had she just told him that? What was she doing? Was it the comforting feeling of being back on the island?

He studied her face for a moment before speaking. “Almost?” he asked, visibly curious.

She’d already told him too much. This wasn’t like her at all. He was her boss—her boss’s boss! But he was watching her, waiting for her answer. “I realized that I didn’t love the man I’d spent three years with. He proposed and I had to tell him, ‘No’.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked uncomfortable. Emily inwardly scolded herself for telling him anything at all. What in the world was going on with her?

All of a sudden, he said, “I understand,” and looked out at the water.

“You do?”

“Yes. I was with the wrong person as well. But I married her. I knew it wasn’t right, but I kept thinking that maybe we could make it work. I should’ve known better.”

“Well, at least we learned from it.”

They fell into an awkward silence for a moment, and Emily wondered if he felt as odd as she did having shared a glimpse of his personal life.

“Things certainly are different here,” he said, looking down at his hands as he buried his fingers in the sand. “I have to confess that I don’t know how to reach someone like Rocky McFadden. I’ve dealt with communities who didn’t want me to build before, but usually it all came down to money, and in the end, I was granted building permits. But what do I fall back on if money isn’t persuasive enough?”

“You’re creative—I can already tell. You’ll figure something out.” Emily was struggling. Even though the conversation had returned to business, she was starting to feel the line blur. She shouldn’t be telling these things to him, nor should she be hearing his story. She stood up and brushed off her bottom. “I wanted to show you how we relax around here, so I brought you to this island.” She looked out again at the bay, now dotted with a few more sailboats. “I should probably get you back so you can prepare for the meeting.”

He stood up beside her and followed her to the boat.

G
ram was
asleep by the time Emily returned from the marina. She went to bed thinking about Charlie, her mind spinning with thoughts of how to help him convince the planning commission to make changes to the inn, but worrying that she might see Rocky’s side as well. She didn’t want to get caught in the middle of anything. The excitement of the night and the constant thinking about tomorrow’s meeting made her sleep lightly, and her shoulders ached the next morning.

As she walked downstairs, rubbing her neck with one hand, she could hear Gram whistling in the kitchen.

“Mornin’, sunshine!” she said with a spatula in one hand and her cane in the other. I’ve got scrambled eggs, bacon, and fried tomatoes for breakfast! The biscuits are still in the oven to keep warm. Grab me the butter, would you, dear?”

Emily retrieved the butter from the fridge and handed it to Gram, so thankful to be home with her again.

“How was dinner?”

“Good.”

Gram turned around. “You all right?” Gram’s face was overly concerned, worried even.

“I’m fine,” she said in the most convincing way she could. She noticed relief flood Gram’s face. What was she so worried about? It had only been a bad night’s sleep. “I’ll come back for breakfast if that’s okay. I need fresh air and sunshine to wake me up.”

“Of course.”

Emily walked to the back door and let herself out. The sun’s warmth was already strong enough to cut through the cool bay breeze as she walked barefoot along the path to Eli’s pasture. When she got there, she let herself in through the gate and walked to the barn. Eli was inside, resting.

“Hi, boy,” she said and he shifted, his great body rustling the straw underneath him. “You relaxing in this heat?” She sat down next to him, leaning against his large side. He snorted and nickered, turning his head so that it was next to her.

She reached up and rubbed his face.

Eli snorted again.

“I just wanted to come say hi.” He pulled his face from her hand and laid his head in the straw beside her.

“Well, boy. I’ll let you get your rest,” she said standing up and patting his belly.

Then she walked down to the beach.

As she looked out at the gorgeous morning in front of her, the way the sunlight shimmied off the water, the feel of the powdery sand underneath her feet, the complete serenity of it, she knew that it was this place that made her whole, and here she could feel the last three years fading away like the sun faded the blue of Papa’s boat—until one day, those years would be just a distant memory.

When her parents died, Papa and Gram provided the stability she needed to survive such a tragedy, and this house brought that stability back for her. Everywhere she looked here, she saw their love, and all those wonderful reminders of her life there. Then she thought about Charlie. Maybe she’d agree to those big plans of his, maybe she wouldn’t. But either way, helping him to understand the area wouldn’t be a bad thing and Oyster Bay would be the perfect place to show Charlie what really mattered down here.

She ran inside and got her phone:

He texted back:

She texted the address of the farmhouse but explained its proximity to the inn. Then, she told him to come as soon as he could. She couldn’t wait to show him around.