Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) (7 page)

Mitch spotted Bryan, nodded, and headed his way. Cole stopped to talk to Jack and Josh.

“You’re not trying to work are you?” Mitch slid into the booth opposite him.

“Nah.” Bryan shut his manila folder. He grinned at his longtime childhood friend.

“Good. Because the town council meeting is over, and I need a beer.” He glanced at the heated game of pool between Chuck and Tom. “Maybe even a good game of pool.”

“Bad?” Bryan drank another swig of beer. He wiped his upper lip with his index finger.

“It’s always the same.” Mitch shook his head. “Until we get some new blood into town with new ideas, nothing is going to change on the council.”

“What about some old blood with new ideas?”

“Sounds good,” Mitch said. “Someone you know got something? Sawyer?”

Bryan clenched his jaw. Of course, Mitch would assume Sawyer had ideas for how to help Cranberry Bay. Everyone always looked to Sawyer. First as captain of the high school baseball team and later as one of the area’s largest residential developers.

Cole slipped into the seat beside Mitch. He leaned back and stuck his long legs out from under the table. “What’s going on with Sawyer? Did he score some more land?” Cole ran his hand through his thick dark hair.

“Most likely.” Bryan took a long swig of his drink. His brother scooped up land like it was a handful of chocolates at a holiday party.

“Got room for one more?” Josh slipped into the booth beside Bryan, jarring him and shoving him to the left corner.

Bryan straightened and gave Josh a playful shove back. “Always.” Sometimes he felt closer to his longtime childhood playmates than he did to his own brothers. They’d bonded over an elementary lunchroom table, four apples, and three ice cream sandwiches and had seen each other through the ups and downs of their lives.

“What’ve you got?” Mitch rubbed his brow. “I’m up for anything at this point. We’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel. The elementary school is going to close soon if we can’t get some new families in this town. But we need jobs to attract people. Something we’re a little short on.”

“Well,” Bryan’s heart pounded in his chest. He hadn’t told anyone of his idea. He had wanted to wait until he secured funding before talking about it. But he’d never dream of holding out on his friends. “I think what this town needs is some new fun. We need ways to draw people away from the beach towns and over here for a night or two on their vacations.”

“I agree.” Mitch said. Ivy set a glass of dark ale on the table, and he took a swig. “We need something for all ages. Fishing and clamming is great, but it doesn’t exactly draw the ladies in. We need something that draws them to Cranberry Bay to stay for at least a night.”

“Exactly,” Bryan said. He cleared his throat. “I’ve got my eye on a set of riverboats. One is a restaurant, and the other is a casino. It’d be just the thing to encourage people to visit.”

“But we’re not on tribal lands,” Josh said, frowning. “I didn’t think gambling could be on land that wasn’t tribal.”

“Some types of gambling are okay. The state calls it social gambling.” Bryan leaned back in the booth. “I’ve done some research. We can have gambling boats outside of tribal lands. People gamble and win money, but the house can’t take a cut of what people make on their winnings.”

“But how does the gambling make money for the town?” Mitch said, frowning again. “The riverboats won’t do us any good if they’re not making money.”

“There is a charge for the entrance to the riverboat. We also charge for food and drink, and we offer things like Ladies Nights Out and Poker Nights, where the alcohol flows. All of which require a small cover charge.” Bryan straightened and leaned forward. “The best part is the food and drinks require a chef and kitchen staff, as well as waitresses and hostesses. Everything adds up to jobs for Cranberry Bay. People will need somewhere to spend the night afterward. This increases the need for lodging and other businesses along the Main Street. Some of those buildings have been empty for years.”

“What kind of gambling games do people play on the boat?” Cole said, eyeing him with interest.

“The basics. Roulette. Craps. Blackjack.”

“Sounds great to me,” Josh said. “Attracting new people to town would help with the train, too. We could offer more runs if people wanted them.” He lowered his voice. “We’ve got a big repair coming up on one of the engines. We’ll have to do a fund-raiser for it.”

“Fund-raisers.” Mitch snapped his fingers “I bet we could host a lot of fund-raisers on the riverboats.”

“Fund-raisers are great,” Bryan said. “But the prizes need to be non-cash, which shouldn’t be a problem. Everyone loves those baskets loaded with goodies for things like Italian dinners and family game nights.” He had won a big chocolate basket during the volunteer firefighters’ annual dinner. A lot of the chocolate had landed in Lauren’s holiday stocking that year.

“A fancy dinner would be something people could get behind,” Mitch said. “My wife was just saying she wished there were more opportunities to get dressed up.” He smiled. “I can’t say I blame her. I kinda like it myself.”

Bryan grinned at Mitch. He’d married his high school sweetheart, and the two of them had been on their honeymoon ever since. They’d been the envy of all their friends, none of whom had found the right partner yet. “So, you think it’s a good idea?” A flicker of hope rose in Bryan’s chest. “I’ll need to propose it to the council and get their approval. It would help if I had you on board first.”

“You’ve got my vote.” Cole nodded. “I think it’s a great idea. Wish I thought of it myself to tell you the truth.”

“You’ve got my vote,” Mitch said. “And I can talk to some of the others and give them a heads-up. But the council will want to know you’ve secured funding. No one wants another replay of what happened last time.”

“I promise it won’t be a repeat of last time.” Bryan remembered how he’d gotten caught up in the plans for an amusement park with an investor. He’d met the man on a ski trip to Mount Baker, and, after a couple nights in the ski lodge bar, the man had pledged his support for the multimillion-dollar idea. The idea quickly fell apart after the investor saw the statistics on Cranberry Bay, and he backed out of the whole deal at the last second, just before Bryan had been scheduled to take it to a council vote. “Sawyer and I have a deal for some investment monies on this project.”

Mitch leaned closer. “Spill it. What’s the deal?”

“There’s a little bet on the table.” Bryan averted his eyes from his friends.

“What’s the bet?” Cole leaned forward.

Bryan cleared his throat. “If I can convince Rylee Harper to move to Cranberry Bay, Sawyer will fund the boats.”

“Rylee Harper?” Mitch said. “You planned to marry her about ten years ago, right?”

“Yea.” Bryan shifted away from his friends and gazed toward the blazing fire in the fireplace. “She’s selling her grandmother’s home and staying in Cranberry Bay for a few weeks.”

“Ah,” Mitch said, and shook his head. “The riverboats were a good idea. But, that bet, I don’t know…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Bryan punched Mitch in the arm.

“I don’t mean to dampen this flame,” Cole said. “But what’s going to make Rylee move to Cranberry Bay? Didn’t she go running out of here last time? And you were practically engaged, right? So, how come it’s going to be different?”

“She needs a job,” Josh said. He took a long drink of his beer. “I heard she was wandering all over town looking for work the other day. She stopped by the train depot and asked if we needed any help.”

“She needs work?” Bryan quickly turned to face Josh. If Rylee needed work, that was a good sign. If she had a job she liked, that was the first step toward convincing her Cranberry Bay could be home.

“Something about repairs on her grandmother’s house costing too much and taking longer.” Josh shrugged. “Don’t tell her you heard it from me.”

The river cottages and his conversation with Dennis flashed across Bryan’s mind. Excitement pooled in his stomach. It was perfect. Rylee had a background in design. But he doubted the beach towns had looked twice at her. The small towns thrived on using locals, not someone who breezed in from Vegas for a few weeks. The cottage staging would fit what she was looking for to help pay for her grandmother’s repairs. And once word got out about her abilities, he suspected the beach hotels would be more interested in her and offer her more work, something she might not be able to refuse. That would ensure him a chance for her to see if Cranberry Bay could be home.

“Excuse me, boys.” Bryan slipped his computer and notes into his bag and pushed his unfinished beer toward Josh. “You’ll have to finish this for me.”

“Where are you going?” Cole asked. “We just got here.”

“I’ve got a job to offer someone,” Bryan said. “And,” he winked at Mitch. “a bet to win.”

Rylee wiped her gloved hand over the park bench and brushed away a handful of wet pine needles. She sank down as Raisin plopped by her feet. He tucked his tail around him and leaned his head on her scuffed rain boot. She’d picked up the boots along with a couple of heavy flannel shirts, a thick down jacket, and a pair of jeans at the Goodwill outlet just north of Cranberry Bay. Rylee shivered and wrapped her coat tighter around her.

She stared into the rushing river running below the park and tried to push away the headache forming between her eyes. In the last week, she’d been everywhere looking for work. She’d gone to every real estate agent in all the surrounding beach towns. She stopped in at all the hotels in the area. She’d even asked at the Cranberry Bay Historic Train Depot if they might need a receptionist or ticket seller. But, the story was always the same. People would hire if they had more business. The real estate agents apologized, saying that second homes just weren’t selling right now. The beach town hotel owners apologized and explained they were recovering from a couple seasons of low occupancy due to a series of unfortunate summer storms and a faltering economy. They didn’t have money to pour into remodels of rooms and entryways. Her headache pulsed, and she gripped the edges of the park bench. Yesterday, she had visited the local bank and asked to open a home equity line of credit. But without a regular steady means of income, the bank declined her request.

Rylee tightened her grip on the cold wooden slates. She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t give up. There had to be something she could do.

Rylee looked toward the row of two-story brick buildings that lined the riverfront walkway below the park’s hillside. She remembered that there had been a candy store when she was a child, and she had selected different types of fudge from the glass cabinets. Chocolate almond had been her favorite. She always tucked a small package into her suitcase to eat on the plane ride back to Vegas. Now, darkened windows and storefront signs missing letters marred the buildings. A light flickered on in a small office at the end of the building with a real estate agent sign in the front.

Resolved, Rylee threw back her shoulders. If she couldn’t get a job and was unable to secure a home equity line of credit, it was time to face selling her grandmother’s home. The cost of the repairs could be taken out of the sale, or a buyer could be found for an “as-is” sale. She had to let go of her childhood dreams that her grandmother’s home was worth a lot of money. She doubted any real estate agent in Portland was going to be interested in her grandmother’s home. Rylee squared her shoulders and clenched her teeth. She’d have to use Bryan’s real estate services.

Rylee headed down a narrow pathway leading out of the park and to the riverfront walkway. Raisin trotted beside her, his toenails clicking on the cement pavement and his tags jingling. A seagull circled above her and landed on the marina’s ramshackle office building.

Rylee reached the last brick building and pushed open the small door. A steep and narrow staircase loomed in front of her. She grasped the banister and stepped up the stairs to a small door on the second floor. A “For Sale” sign rested against a wall. In large red lettering, it read “Cranberry Bay Real Estate. Bryan Shuster.” Raisin whined beside her and tried to turn around in the dark space.

“It’s okay, bud.” Rylee petted the dog and reassured both the dog and herself that things were going to be okay. “We’re just going to take care of some business.” She wanted nothing more than to bolt.

Suddenly, the door jerked open and Bryan stood in the doorframe. The light behind him cast a glow around his muscular frame, and his blue jeans hugged his muscular legs. A green sweater stretched across his broad chest, and the heat surged in Rylee’s face.

“Can I help you?”

“I’d like to list my grandmother’s home.” Rylee gripped Raisin’s leash and willed herself not to run. Her heart pounded in her chest. It’s just the sale of a house, she told herself, knowing full well that the sale of the house was not causing her surging emotions. It was the man standing in front of her.

“Not a problem.” Bryan leaned against the doorframe. “We can get that done.” He smiled at her, sending her heart crashing to her ribs. “I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

Rylee could do nothing but nod, too afraid to speak and reveal her emotions.

“Are you interested in a job?”

Rylee swallowed hard, forcing herself to concentrate. “I would love a job. Who do I contact?”

“Me.” Bryan’s eyes glowed. “Is that okay?”

“You?” Rylee stared beyond Bryan into the small office. He couldn’t expect her to work with him, could he? She’d never be able to be so close to him in his office and maintain an emotional and physical distance.

“I’ve just landed a listing. The owner would like it staged to sell. Is this something you could do?”

“Of course.” Rylee straightened and thought she saw emotion cross Bryan’s face. But before she could be sure she’d seen anything, it was gone. “I stage property. I did an entire condo building in Vegas. It was beautiful. My business partner and I worked for weeks on it. We used beautiful draperies and high-end furniture.” She paused and laughed. “I wanted to buy one by the time we finished.”

She flushed. Why had she gushed on to Bryan? He wasn’t asking her for a job history. He was giving her a job without any references or previous work experience. Rylee slipped her left hand into her pocket and stepped back.

Bryan cleared his throat and shifted. “I was just going to look at the property now. You could come along?”

“Where is it?” Rylee nodded to Raisin. “I can drop him off at home on the way.”

“We can walk. It’s on the other side of the park, near the west bank of the river.”

“A riverfront property?” Rylee frowned. “Is it one of the businesses near the marina?”

“Not exactly.” Bryan cleared his throat. “It’s the river cottages.”

Rylee swallowed hard as heat filled her face. “The river cottages?” Grateful for the poorly lit stairwell, she lowered her eyes to the dirty doormat. On her twenty-first birthday, Bryan had brought her to the cottage. He’d set a small kitchen table with real china place settings borrowed from his mother. He’d cooked a wonderful meal of lasagna and thick French bread and made her a chocolate cake. Afterward, he proposed to her. That night, she believed she could marry him. She believed she could move to Cranberry Bay. She believed she’d find a way to keep her father out of harm’s way in Vegas while she lived in Cranberry Bay. She believed it was possible to have her life in Cranberry Bay without telling the secret of his gambling addiction. She believed her world would come together perfectly. But everything changed the next day with one phone call from the Vegas police. Quietly, she packed her bags, knowing she’d never be able to marry Bryan and live in Cranberry Bay without betraying her long-held family secret. She’d never be able to leave her father without someone to take care of him.

Bryan stared into her eyes and sent her heart racing. “Will the location be a problem?”

“No.” Rylee shook her head firmly. This was a business deal. She needed the job, and there wasn’t time for sentimentality over the past. “It’s not a problem for me. Is it a problem for you?”

Bryan’s ears turned slightly pink, but he shook his head. “Not a problem for me. We should be able to attract a good buyer once the cottages are staged.”

Rylee nodded. It didn’t matter how she once felt about Bryan. That was in the past. Today all that mattered for both of them was getting the job done.

“Let me get my jacket.” Bryan stepped into the room and grabbed his coat off a tall chair sitting in front of a desk. “We’ll walk over to the cottages.”

Rylee turned and headed down the narrow staircase. It was just business, she reminded herself. The job would give her the necessary means to secure the home equity line of credit, finish the work on her grandmother’s house, and leave.

Outside, Rylee took a deep breath of the crisp night air. Cranberry Bay always smelled like a Christmas tree farm with the towering evergreen trees that surrounded it. She led Raisin to a small patch of grass on the side of the building. As soon as the bank opened tomorrow, she’d secure the loan. It was a small town, and Bryan would verify her employment. She’d still list the home with Bryan, but at least it wouldn’t have to be sold “as-is.” Rylee had seen what happened to the older homes in Vegas that were listed “as-is.” Many of them were torn down to make room for apartment buildings. She didn’t know about the zoning laws in Cranberry Bay, but she hated to think of someone tearing down her grandmother’s beloved home.

“Ready?” Bryan stepped up beside her

“Yes.” Rylee and Raisin easily stepped into pace beside Bryan.

The rain had stopped, and some of the clouds gave way to a blue sky with puffy white clouds. Walking with Bryan felt so familiar and comfortable that Rylee soon found herself telling him about some of the homes she had worked on over the years. She recounted stories of owners’ demands and requests for furnishings which took her everywhere from estate sales to expensive home stores. The two of them were laughing by the time they reached the river rock path leading to the six cottages.

Rylee stopped. Time hadn’t changed the brown-shingled cottages, which sat in a circle around a grassy area that held a couple of Adirondack chairs and a fire pit. The cottages all looked alike, with large picture windows, chimneys and wooden front doors. A small metal sign hung on the front of the first cottage. Rylee peered closer and could barely make out the letters: “Fishing.”

Rylee slipped her hand into her pocket. She pulled out her cell phone and tapped notes into the small screen. “The first thing we’ll want to do is buy flowers for a large pot at each door. Probably at this time of year there is nothing left, but I’ll see if I can find something marked with a discount. There’ll need to be curtains on the windows, and we’ll want to leave them open and pulled back with a nice tie.” She eyed the gravel walkway. “The path could use new gravel, but we won’t worry about that for now. The important thing will be making each cottage have curb appeal.”

“I can clear out the weeds.” Bryan leaned over and yanked out a tall scraggly weed lodged in the gravel. “It should only take me a couple hours or so.”

“I’ll see what I can do about making up some new signs for each cottage. It shouldn’t be hard to find some old boards and paint names on them to hang as signs for each cottage.” Rylee continued to type fast notes into her phone.

Bryan leaned over and flipped up a doormat. He pulled out a small key. “I will have the locks rekeyed. Why don’t you take this one for now? The same key fits every cottage.”

Rylee took the key from Bryan, and his fingers touched hers. For a minute, neither of them moved. His eyes stared into hers, and she couldn’t find her voice. She felt twenty-one again, in love with the boy she’d had a crush on since she was fifteen.

Bryan reached over, and, with his thumb, caressed the side of her face. “Rylee,” he said. The longing in his eyes mirrored hers. Her chest ached with the unfilled promise of everything they’d left behind.

Rylee grabbed the key from Bryan and leaned down to pick up her cell phone. Her heart pounded as she inserted the key into the lock. She could not allow herself to remember the past. Not now. Not ever. Her hands shook as she inserted the key into the lock. She twisted the doorknob, but the door didn’t open.

“Something is stuck,” Rylee muttered. She leaned her shoulder against the door and pushed.

“Here.” Bryan stepped up beside her. “Let me.” His body brushed against hers, and she inhaled his spicy aftershave, sending her emotions back into overdrive.

Bryan grunted and pressed against the door as it swung open into a dark room. “I’ll get these doors fixed as soon as possible.”

Rylee followed Bryan into the cold room and shivered. A couple of used logs sat in the fireplace. The room was empty except for three folding chairs and a card table. Rylee stepped into the small kitchen area. A refrigerator, tucked into a red Formica countertop, clunked as if on its final legs. The small metal sink smelled of fish, and Rylee scrunched her nose.

“I’m sorry. “Bryan ran his finger along the dusty front window ledge “I haven’t been inside any of these for years. I didn’t realize the condition they’d be in. I’ll tell Dennis we can’t stage them, and I’ll just try to sell them as-is.”

“No. Wait. I think we can make this work.” Rylee turned in a circle and studied the one-room cottage. “They’re vintage cottages, and I’ll use that as the theme.” She pointed to the fireplace. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll place a set of candles in the middle. We can cover the fish scent with some good bleach. I’ll bake some cookies to serve at an open house.”

“Are you sure?” Bryan ran his hand through his hair. “This looks like a lot of work. And there are five others. I’m assuming they’re all in the same state.”

“I can do it.” Rylee nodded. “Why don’t we make a list of what needs to be done? There might be some things I can hire out. Is there a budget for the project?”

Bryan shifted his weight back and forth. “No.” He lowered his voice. “I need you to keep something to yourself.”

Rylee nodded. “Of course. Client confidentiality is important.”

“Mrs. Perkins is ill. Dennis mentioned needing the money, so they could move to be closer to their grandchildren in California. I’m guessing it is also to cover her medical expenses.”