Sunshine Beach (13 page)

Maddie reached out and took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Avery squeezed back. Her voice was thick with emotion as she continued. “If you let me do this, I promise we will take great care with every inch of your property. I promise we'll treat it like our own.”

Then she stood still and waited, not even swiping at the tears that fell, until Annelise Handleman finally nodded and said, “Yes.”

Annelise's agreement to allow the renovation demanded a celebration. The minute they reached Bella Flora, Maddie headed for the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of prosecco she'd been saving. Kyra whooped at the news and grabbed her video camera while Maddie opened the bottle and filled champagne flutes.

Nikki accepted a glass and followed the others out to the loggia, but despite the excitement and her own relief that they finally had a project, she couldn't seem to let go of her distress at the distance that now existed between her and Joe. A distance she knew the others had noticed but had mercifully not yet brought up. A distance she was nowhere near ready to discuss.

“Well done!” Maddie raised her glass to Avery. The rest of them followed suit. “What you said was so beautiful and so moving.”

“And effective,” Nikki added, trying to let go of her worry.

“Thank you,” Avery said. “I'm really excited that we've
got the go-ahead. But I'm afraid it was only dumb luck that I happened to say what Annelise Handleman wanted to hear.”

“No,” Maddie replied as they settled around the wrought-iron table. “It was your honesty that spoke to her. And I think it's important that we continue to remember that what we're doing is more than just a renovation.”

More sparkling wine was poured and the celebration kicked into higher gear, but Nikki was still turning over Joe Giraldi's deft handling of Annelise Handleman and his dismissal of her when her cell phone rang. Imagining she had somehow telepathically induced him to call her, Nikki got up and moved to a quieter spot. Then she answered, expecting to hear his voice. Telling her that sitting next to her and pretending not to love her had been torture. That nothing she said or did could ever make him give up on her.

The voice that sounded in her ear did not belong to Joe Giraldi. It belonged to Bitsy Baynard and it was shrill with excitement. “The video arrived this afternoon. I've already watched two of the Mermaid Point episodes!” Bitsy exclaimed, barely waiting for Nikki to finish saying hello. “And you won't believe who called me!” Once again she didn't wait for Nikki to respond, which was fortunate because Nikki was still trying to pull her brain cells back into some sort of working order. “William Hightower called me! I just got off the phone with Wild Will!” Bitsy shrieked, her voice reminding Nikki of the old black-and-white newsreels of the Beatles' first U.S. tour. “There's going to be a concert! And he personally invited me to come with Maddie,” wailed the woman who could have bought as many concert arenas and the people who performed in them as she fancied. “I am going to have a frickin' backstage pass!”

The sky was porcelain blue, the sun a bright yellow a handful of days later. It was a balmy seventy-eight degrees with a
light breeze off the Gulf that stirred the sea oats and rifled the palms that surrounded the Sunshine Hotel. It was the sort of day that brought people to Florida and kept them from leaving. One any chamber of commerce would proudly call its own.

Like a fairy-tale character suddenly released from a witch's curse, the entire property had come alive and now hummed with activity as a steady stream of tradesmen came and went bringing their ladders, their meters, their swagger, and their energy. Avery stood on the concrete pool deck between the main building and the pool, not far from where John Franklin's lifeguard stand had once stood, like a captain at the helm of a ship. Chase and Jeff Hardin stood with her. Josh and Jason had taken Dustin down to the beach to toss a football leaving Kyra free to document the day. Maddie had set up a makeshift “lemonade stand” in the shade beneath the porch overhang while Nikki served as an additional greeter and escort.

Plywood was pried loose. Doors and sliders and any windows that could be budged had been propped open to the morning breeze and sunshine. Birds chirped in the trees, insects lighted on flowers and branches. The rustle in the underbrush no longer seemed ominous while the distant sound of boat motors came from the bay and Gulf sides. Avery imagined the buildings were breathing, drawing in great gulps of fresh air. For the briefest moment she could see Deirdre dressed in fluttery white linen impervious to the decades-old dirt and grime, every hair unaccountably in place. Her chest constricted painfully, but the tightness eased as the excitement she hadn't allowed herself to feel before permission was granted seeped into her bloodstream.

Enrico Dante, the roofer, was among the first to arrive. Small and wizened with a cue ball of a head hidden beneath a battered Rays baseball cap, he hugged each of the women
effusively. A descendant of a roofer brought from Italy by Addison Mizner to help complete the transformation of Palm Beach, he had been the first Dante with whom she'd worked.

Avery scrambled up the ladder behind him to stand on the roof of the main building, which was in horrible shape even to her untrained eye.

“It will, of course, need to be replaced,” he said after releasing the ragged tarp that covered the worst sections of the roof. “And we will make sure it is at a correct slope to avoid this pooling of water. I will look also at the cottages, but I think we will have to assume that the roofs there are in a similar condition.”

A rainbow-colored parasail caught her eye, and she moved to the western edge of the roof to take in the view of sugar-white sand that stretched in both directions and the endless body of sparkling water that stretched westward.

“The beach it is beautiful from here,” Enrico said. “You can see very far.”

Avery nodded. Along the edge of the building, palm trees twisted toward the sky, their trunks swaying and palm skirts rustling slightly in the breeze.

“It's the perfect spot to watch the sunset, no?”

“Oh, yes,” she breathed.

“And it could be also good for the sunrise,” he said, turning and leading her to the opposite end of the roof with its eastern view over the cottages and the scrim of trees and bush that bordered Pass-a-Grille Way.

She went up on tiptoe. “A few more feet up and we'd be able to see right over those condos to Boca Ciega Bay. They're only two story.”

“Yes. This is what I am thinking,” Enrico said. “We must add a rooftop deck so that we can have magnificent views in both directions.”

Avery felt a shiver of excitement. Raising the roof and
adding a deck would not only provide a magnificent place from which to enjoy the scenery, it would increase the square footage of the communal areas and greatly enhance the property. Raising the ceilings while they were at it would do a lot for the interior space. But each of these things would also add to the expense.

The worry about money was constant, a burden that grew heavier with each decision. She had chafed at the network for keeping the budget artificially low and putting them under needless pressure in order to keep things “interesting,” but at least they hadn't been required to raise every penny. “Can you figure it both ways, Enrico? With and without raised ceilings and with and without the decks?”

“Of course. But we must have the decks.” Enrico kissed his fingers and opened them in a classic Italian gesture. “This main one, I promise you it will be magnificent.”

“Yes, I know it will,” Avery said. “But I need to look at the cost very carefully. Our budget is . . .” She couldn't quite come up with a word that fit. “Tight” was too generous. “Almost nonexistent” too frightening.

“Do not worry,” Enrico said. “I will work on this and give you my most ‘beautiful' price. And we will also become sponsors. Like my cousin Mario did on the South Beach house. He has been lording this over me for too long to ignore.”

“That's fabulous. Thank you!” A flush of gratitude warmed her. “I don't know where
Do Over
would be without the Dante family.” But the truth was, to make these changes to the roof and raise the ceiling, the price would have to be not just “beautiful,” but downright gorgeous. “I want to make sure you know, though, that although we're going to do everything in our power to shoot and air the series, we have no guarantee that what we shoot here will ever be televised.”

“Pfft!” Enrico said dismissively. “I have no doubt that you will make this happen and show that network who they are dealing with.”

God, she hoped so. Avery smiled and hugged the little man. “You're the best,” she said.

“Yes, I tell Mario this all the time. Perhaps I will have to ask you to put it in writing.”

Enrico began to take measurements.

“Raising the ceilings and adding the decks are both great ideas,” Chase said with genuine enthusiasm when she explained what she had in mind. Though Hardin Morgan Construction had built a reputation on its new construction, Chase had a soft spot for historically interesting structures that matched her own.

“I like it, too,” Jeff agreed.

“I'm just going to cross my fingers and hope like hell we're not going to have to replace all the support beams,” Avery said. This was the real challenge when budgeting construction. Sometimes you just didn't know until you opened things up what surprises lay inside.

Chase wrapped an arm around her waist. “No point in borrowing trouble. We'll deal with bad news when and if it happens.”

“Right.” She banished budget worries for the moment and allowed herself to enjoy the warm glow of anticipation. It was a glorious day to be alive and an even better day to begin a new project.

“I hope you don't mind, but I asked John Freemont to come out today. He's the floor guy I told you about. An absolute genius with terrazzo.”

Avery nodded.

“And one of Enrico's nephews is coming to look at the plaster work. Oh, and the company we get our hot tubs and Jacuzzis from said they'd take a look at the sauna.” Chase abruptly stopped talking. “You haven't told me to mind my own business yet,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”

Avery laughed, shocked at how all right she was. “I kind of appreciate it.”

“Hold that thought.” He called out to Kyra, who'd been moving around, her video camera on her shoulder, documenting everything. “We need to record this for posterity.”

Avery laughed again as he took her shoulders and turned her to face the camera. “Go ahead, say it again.”

“Okay, here goes,” she said, looking straight into the camera lens. “Chase Hardin has invited some of his subs to come give quotes and has offered to help on this project. And I am hereby admitting that I might actually let him.”

Chase kissed her on the cheek and mugged for the camera.

“Good Lord,” his father teased. “I think I see his head expanding as we speak. Keep this up, Avery, and the boy won't be able to fit it through a door.”

Kyra moved off to follow Robby, who was on his way to inspect the cottages' plumbing. Jeff took a seat near Maddie's lemonade stand.

Chase cocked his head and studied her. “Are you as comfortable with the idea of collaborating as you seem?”

Avery studied him back, thinking of all the arguments they'd had, how disdainful he'd once been. How important it had seemed not to appear uncertain or needy. “Well, since the project's mine and there's no network cameraman attempting to make me look inept, I'm willing to listen. But that doesn't mean I'm going to do or agree with everything you suggest.” There was only one general contractor on a job, and she was it. She could hire and fire. Cajole or reject. Anyone who didn't think she was capable just because she had blond hair, Kewpie-doll features, and a big bust could go screw himself.

“Fair enough,” he said. “I'm going to go walk through the electrical with Reed Hampton.” He offered his father a hand up, and the two turned down the path toward the cottages.

There was not a building or patch of the property that didn't need something, but even now Avery could see the
end result in her mind's eye, could imagine people lounging around the pool, meandering to and from the beach through the opening in the low concrete wall, snagging an ice cream sandwich from the cooler, or bellying up to the soda fountain for a milkshake or a sundae. Being handed a vintage key at the front desk.

“Thirsty?” Maddie's voice pulled her back to the present. Avery drank down the proffered lemonade in a few greedy gulps and savored the moment, that moment before anything began, in which everything was possible and the need to compromise had not yet reared its head. She held out her glass for a refill as Nikki stepped out of the main building. Her hair askew, her face streaked with dirt, she looked far less put together than she had when they'd arrived.

She dropped into a chair, blew a limp bang off her forehead, and accepted a glass of lemonade. “Bless you,” Nikki said. She closed her eyes and drank thirstily. “And I don't think there's enough air in the world to get rid of the smell in there.”

They sat and sipped their drinks treasuring the shade, and the moment of quiet in the midst of the hurricane of activity that whirled around them.