Page 79 of Until Next Summer

Jessie’s nodding enthusiastically, and I hate that I’m about to pop her bubble.

“But there’s something else,” I say, dropping my voice to hopefully convey the shift to a more serious topic. “When we were in the office the other day, I saw a historical document of the camp’s financials. The profit margin has dropped significantly over the last five or six years.”

Jessie narrows her eyes, taking a slice each of cheese and prosciutto from the charcuterie board. “I’m aware of that.”

“I know you are. I’m just saying, if a co-op buys a failing company, it will still be a failing company.”

“Do you think I’m trying to trick people into investing?” Jessie asks, a wounded expression on her face. “That I’ll take their money, sit back, and let the camp fall apart?”

“No, no, not at all.” I take a sip of my wine, rethinking my approach. “I just have ideas—more drastic changes that could help the camp do more than survive. Jessie, it could thrive.”

My heart is pounding so loud I can feel it pulsing in my ears. As much as I want to keep going, to convince Jessie that I know what I’m talking about, my father taught me that sometimes the most persuasive thing you can say is nothing.

“I’m listening,” Jessie says eventually, taking an olive off the board, and I exhale a sigh of relief.

“We both know that registration for sleepaway camps is down across the country,” I say. “But there are more and more people like Luke who are looking for an escape or a retreat year-round.”

“I’ve actually thought about that,” Jessie says. “But the cabins aren’t winterized.”

“Yes, exactly! That’s one of the first things we should do once the sale goes through. Winterize the cabins so we can use them in every season. And maybe give the Lodge a little facelift.”

I hope she doesn’t balk at my use of the word “we.” I’m so invested in this idea; I want to stay a part of it. This could be a new chapter for both of us.

“I was thinking, summer camps only run from mid-June to mid-August because of school schedules. That gives us two weeks on either side where the weather is still great, and we could offer adult sessions. This thing you’ve created is too good to let go—and with fewer spots available, people will pay even more to relive their favorite camp memories.”

I’m talking too much, so I pause and spread some Brie on a cracker, leaving space for Jessie to take in what I’m suggesting—a shift in the way she thinks about the business. Rather than being viable two months of the year, it could work for all twelve.

“I like it,” Jessie says, and I exhale in relief. “I’ve had similar thoughts…what I’d do differently if I was really in charge, you know?”

“This could be amazing, Jess,” I say, the wheels in my mind spinning with possibilities. “The two of us working together? It’s a dream come true.”

“I know companies pay a lot for your time and talent,” Jessie says, and I start to protest, but she holds her hand up, and I stop. “We obviously don’t have much disposable income at the moment, but we could definitely pay you three Kit Kats and a Twix.”

There’s a sparkle in her eye, and I feel like I’m missingsomething, but I’m not about to question her. Not when this is the outcome I wanted.

“Deal,” I say, clinking my glass against Jessie’s. “And to think I was going to do it for free.”

Jessie laughs and takes another sip of her wine. “Thanks for this break. I needed it.”

“You should thank Cooper,” I say, suddenly feeling an urge to let her in on my little secret.

“Cooper, huh?” The suggestive lilt to her voice says she already knows.

“Let’s just say I highly recommend a summer fling with a chef.”

She grins, delighted. “Hillary Goldberg finally got a camp boyfriend!”

“Not a boyfriend—it’s super casual,” I say.

“Casual?” Jessie looks skeptical. “Aren’t you the girl who planned your entire camp schedule two weeks in advance? You’ve changed since we were kids, but notthatmuch, Hill.”

“True. But honestly, the predictability of my life has been stifling. I think I’ve been itching to break free, only I didn’t know it till I got here. I want to stop obsessing about what Ishoulddo and start focusing on what Iwantto do.On doing what feels good.”

“And doing Cooper feels good?” Jessie says, her eyes alight with mischief. My cheeks heat up, which answers her question. She leans back, laughing out loud. “Go, Hillary!” Then she looks at me. “Wait—so that guy in all your Facebook photos…”

“Aaron?” I ask, surprised but secretly pleased that Jessie was paying attention to my rare social media posts. “We were on a break, but I made it permanent on the Fourth.”

This piques Jessie’s interest, and I fill her in on the rapid demise of my relationship. She gasps and shakes her head in all the right places, and it strikes me that this is exactly the kind of conversation I craved the night Aaron made his indecent proposal. My heart swells, knowing that whatever lies ahead—the good and the not-so-good—I’ll finally have a best friend by my side again.

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