Page 14 of The Unbound Bookshop
“I saw all your bags for tomorrow morning stacked by the front door and thought you might want to bring this along.” Her mother held out a worn book missing its binding. “You know, to remind you why you’re doing all this.”
A flood of emotion filled Sage’s chest as she read the faded title page.The Curious Quest of Quinley Culpepper.
“You must have read that book a hundred times,” Gran said, peering over her shoulder.
“More like a thousand.” Dawn laughed. “There were many nights I had to pry it out of her hands after she’d fallen asleep.”
Sage smiled even as burgeoning tears marred her vision. The adventurous tale about a plucky preteen traveling the world in search of her missing father had been a lifeline during the years after her dad left. It had solidified her love of books and the belief that stories could help heal a broken heart. “Thank you.”
“You’re sure you want to do this, honeybee?” Her mother brushed a wayward curl away from her face, like she’d done so many times when Sage was a child. “You know Gran and I can help you get a boat some other way.”
“I know.” Sage pretended to agree, although she knew they couldn’t afford it. Every cent went back into the retreat. “I think this is something I need to do on my own. And I’ll be fine. Honestly. What happened with Flynn was a long time ago.”
Her muscles immediately tensed at the image of Flynn standing near the back of the auction house, aloof and formidable. He looked so different, so unlike himself. The Flynn she knew didn’t wear austere suits and leather loafers. He wore linen shirts and deck shoes. His hair wasn’t impeccably cut and combed. It was casual and windblown. But his eyes—his eyes had changed the most. Where was the sparkle? The hint of laughter? They’d grown cold. And despite what happened between them, sadness spread over her, sinking into her bones.
Why had Flynn come back to Blessings Bay? And what did he want with Mackensie’s sailboat? The Cahills owned dozens of boats, all in better condition than theMarvelous Mira.
The Cahills—akaBlessings Bay royalty. They’d never liked her, despite how desperately she’d yearned for their approval. What did they think about their precious son spending three days alone with his socially unsuitable high school sweetheart?
She had a feeling they wouldn’t be thrilled with the prospect.
For once, they all had something in common.
Chapter 8
FLYNN
“Absolutely not.”Randolph Cahill increased the incline on his high-tech treadmill, finally putting his pricey Moncler warm-up suit to work. “I forbid it.”
“You forbid it?” Flynn echoed above the techno music his dad swore had been scientifically proven to improve athletic performance.
“What your father means,” his mother huffed from the elliptical beside him, “is that living aboard a sailboat for three days withyou knowwhoisn’t a good idea. For multiple reasons.”
Flynn loosened his tie, both from frustration and because his parents kept their home gym at a temperature meant to encourage spontaneous sweating. For a couple in their early seventies, their fitness routine rivaled health nuts half their age. His parents wanted to live foreverandlook good doing it. “Is this about the sailboat or about Sage?”
His parents had never approved of Sage. Not from the time he, Sage, and Kevin had become inseparable friends at six years old. And definitely not when he and Sage started dating in high school. They claimed incompatible life philosophies. The Cahills valued wealth, influence, and industrialism. Whereas Shirley, Dawn, and Sage lived on what his parents called a “hippie commune” and sold raw honey at the farmers market with zero aspirations to turn their venture into a Fortune 500 company.
“Don’t make this personal,” his father grunted, increasing his speed from power walking to a brisk jog. “This is about business. As the new vice president of Cahill Enterprises, you can’t playhouseboatfor three days. I don’t care who it’s with.”
Flynn refrained from reminding his father that he wasn’t vice president yet. His parents planned to make the big announcement during the Blessings Gala at the end of the week—the whole reason they’d dragged him back home.
They hosted the extravagant event at their clifftop estate every year to raise funds for whichever charity made them look the best. Although outwardly altruistic, Flynn suspected the fancy shindig served to solidify their alpha status. Despite his mother’s well-rehearsed platitudes—We could’ve left Blessings Bay the moment your father made his first million. But we chose to stay because we love this town. It’s our home. Blah, blah, blah—he knew the score. His parents enjoyed being at the top. It wasn’t merely an aesthetic choice that they had the “Cahill compound” built on the highest headland overlooking the entire town.
“I don’t have a choice.” Flynn helped himself to a glass of ice-cold cucumber water from the crystal dispenser. “Edwin Mackensie laid out the terms. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be on board theMarvelous Miralooking for his late wife’s diary. You may find this hard to believe, Dad, but he doesn’t care about the money.”
“Everyone cares about money,” his father scoffed. “You simply didn’t offer him enough.”
Flynn chugged the water, drowning his retort. Of course his father would find a way to make the situation his fault. Never mind that Old Man Mackensie was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.
“Sweetheart.” His mother softened her tone—a tactic that used to work on him. “We have dozens of boats. You can have any one you want. Take your pick.”
“But I don’t want justanyboat. This is the one Kevin wanted.”
His mother’s step faltered at the mention of his brother’s name, and she white-knuckled the handlebars. “It was a trivial childhood dream.” She increased the intensity and quickened her stride, as if she could outrun Kevin’s memory.
Resentment rose in his chest, crashing against his rib cage. They treated Kevin’s death like a dirty secret. Like a stain they could bleach away with stubborn silence. As if bad things couldn’t happen to rich people.
His mother dabbed her wrinkle-free forehead, then slid the towel to her temple, suspiciously close to the corner of her eye.
