Page 112 of Grace on the Rocks

And it was a great speech, deeply heartfelt and one thousand percentBryan.Whisperingit out loud to herself, her ears snagged on tricky turns of phrase, on theB’s,P’s,S’s, and glottal stops that might trip him up if he was nervous.

She changed the stylus color to blue and made a few suggestions and tweaks in the margins, little things to make it easier for him to read, without altering the underlying message.Atthe end she added a quick note.

I hope you don’t mind the edit.Thewords are as perfect as the house—just a few ideas to help it flow.

She took the worry stone out of her pocket and set it beside the tablet.Thebeautiful rainbow-colored stone had served her well, but this was a big day forBryan.Hemight need it more.

I found this stone whenIneeded it most.Ifyou get nervous, just hold on to it and know thatI’mso beyond proud of you.

There was a knock at the front door, and her head shot up guiltily.

She crept to her old bedroom to peek out the window.Itwasn’t anyone she recognized from town.Theywere wearing a slick suit with shiny shoes, a rolling briefcase at their side.Ithad to be his investor, but where the heck wasBryan?

Grace opened the door to the sharply dressed stranger, who smiled broadly and said in a poshScottishaccent, “Don’ttell meI’vegot the wrong house.I’mlooking forBryanMacNeil.”

“You’ve found him,”Gracereplied. “Err, his house.He’sout just now.Please, come in.”

“Och,Igot an early ferry,” they said, shaking short shaggy blond hair out of their eyes. “Idid text to let him know.JulesMacRae.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon.Wouldyou like some tea?”Graceasked, thinking quickly.Shecouldn’t mess this up for him.

“Please.Milk, no sugar.Thanks.”

“I’mGrace,” she said, setting about to make the tea as she’d seenBryando, what felt like a million times by now.

“American?”

“Yes.Justvisiting.Bryan’sbeen the consummate host.”

“Is this the proof of concept?”Julesasked, looking around and holding up their phone to snap pictures.

“It is,”Gracesaid, feeling rather proud of the sunny, cozy cottage.

“It’s adorable.”

“And completely off-grid.Heinstalled solar panels on the roof.Allthe electricity in the house is run off the solar cell, andIthink there’s a cistern to collect rainwater.”

While the kettle heated,GraceledJulesthrough the house, pointing out everything she knew about the workBryanhad done.He’dlaid new flooring in the spare bedroom since she andWeshad left and put down a cheerful rag rug.Seeingit all again made her throat catch.

Jules was particularly impressed by the bathroom, andGracedid her best to explain how the greywater reclamation process was supposed work.

“That view,”Julesbreathed when they entered the living room with their tea and stood before the gorgeous wall of windows staring out at the ocean.

Grace opened the door, and they strolled down to the beach, past the smoky remnants of biochar.

Jules inhaled deeply. “Oh, that’s nice.Notpeat?”

“No.Bryanwill have to explain it, but he’s been experimenting with sustainable ways to get the same smokiness without the environmental impact.”

“I’d say he’s hit on just the thing,” the investor murmured. “You’rehis associate?”Thequestion was casual, and for a momentGracewondered what they might be to each other besides hopeful business owner and potential investor.

“Tenant,”Gracesaid. “Briefly.Ihelped a little.”

“I’d love to see before and after photos.”

“ThatIcan do.”She’dseenBryantaking pictures on the tablet as work progressed.

“I’m impressed.Youdon’t know what time he’ll be back?”

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