Page 69 of The Beach Shack
“How’s the corporate empire building going?” he asked with a slight smile.
Meg looked up from her laptop. “Just handled a minor crisis. I think.”
“The kind that requires emergency phone calls and frantic typing?”
“The kind that requires me to drive to SanClemente Thursday and convince a client I haven’t abandoned them for the surfing life.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “San Clemente? That’s a big step.”
“It feels like it.” Meg stood, gathering her things. “Terrifying, actually.”
Luke stepped into the office fully. “You know, sometimes the scariest thing is also the right thing.”
She surprised herself with the words even as she said them. “Want to come with me? To San Clemente?”
The question hung in the air between them.
“To your presentation?” Luke asked.
“For moral support. Or just... company. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything this important without backup.” She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Sorry, that probably sounds?—”
“I’d love to,” Luke said simply. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” And surprisingly, she was.
He started toward the door, then paused. “Do I need to wear, like... shoes?”
Meg smiled. “And a shirt. Preferably one without a wave pun.”
He placed a hand over his heart. “You drive a hard bargain, Walsh.”
“Closing time,” Luke said after a moment. “Need help with anything?”
“Actually, yes,” Meg said, a smile tugging at her lips. “I need to figure out how to be brave.”
Luke grinned. “I think you’ve already started.”
After he left, Meg closed her laptop and lookedaround the small office. For the first time in weeks, the work felt manageable. Not because it had gotten easier, but because she’d stopped trying to manage her life from a distance.
She sent Brad the updated slides, closed her laptop, and stepped outside. The last of the sun was sinking low behind the cliffs, and the ocean called to her like a familiar song. Maybe she couldn’t control what came next. But she could start by going down to the beach.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The morning air carried the fresh scent of ocean and eucalyptus when Meg arrived at the Beach Shack. She’d beaten Margo there for once, and was already starting the coffee when she heard her grandmother’s car pull into the lot.
“Well, well,” Margo said as she came through the back door. “Look who’s become the early bird.”
Meg smiled, pouring water into the coffee maker. “Figured I should get a head start on the day.”
Margo hung up her purse and reached for her apron. “That’s becoming a habit with you.”
“Is that bad?”
“Not at all.” Margo moved to the prep station, beginning her morning ritual of checking supplies and planning the day’s specials. Again, Meg noticed her grandmother moving just a bit more deliberately than usual, one hand occasionally steadying herself against the counter as she reached for items on higher shelves.
They worked silently together for a while, though Meg found herself glancing at Margo more often, noting the careful way she lifted heavier items and how she paused to catch her breath between tasks. The familiar morning routine had taken on a different quality—she appreciated everything more, the reliable rhythm they’d developed, the way they moved around each other with growing ease.
"Margo?" Meg said as she arranged napkin dispensers. "I need to drive down to San Clemente tomorrow for a client presentation. It's really important."
