Page 51 of Take This Heart
Something isn’t sitting right with me about all the reporters suddenly camped out on the Whitman property. When I have a free moment, I step outside and pull out my phone. I’m surprised when my uncle answers on the first ring.
“You change your mind about joining the right side?” Bruce says.
“No. But talk to me straight—did you have something to do with the animosity toward the Whitmans in Windy Harbor that popped up overnight?”
There’s a low chuckle and I have my answer. “You wound me, Milo. It’s not too late. You can turn this around and make everything up to me.”
“What are you up to?”
“What am Iup to? You make it sound so salacious. The citizens of Windy Harbor deserve to know that the new build going up in their town will destroy their way of life. Not onlywill this disturb the waterfront and cause an eyesore to that pristine land, but it will bring more traffic into town than they know what to do with. People live in Windy Harbor to get away from the hustle, not to invite more of it into their backyard.”
“So, what—you’re whispering in their ear about going against Everett Whitman so you can get your hands on that property? You think your plans for that land are any better?”
He makes a sound of derision. “Milo, Milo, Milo,” he sighs. “I had such high hopes for you when you were the youngest person to ever receive the Pritzker Award. What a fucking waste.” Another exaggerated sigh. “I don’t need the land. I know when to move on. My plans are simply this: Keep Everett Whitman from getting what he wants.”
It’s quiet for a second as he lets me digest those words.
“You’re really that petty?” I finally ask.
He chuckles. “Petty? I’m saving the community of Windy Harbor, Milo. And you should know…Whitman is no saint.” He pauses for a second and I look at the phone to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Come to dinner tonight. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but his next words are different…earnest.
“It’s important, Milo. Please.”
I’m the one sighing now. “I can’t tonight…I’m in Windy Harbor this week.”
“Even better,” he says. “So am I.”
What is going on here?
“It doesn’t feel right, Bruce. I’m working with Everett. Ilikethe man. I consider him a friend.”
“We’re family, Milo. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I’m asking you to meet me for dinner. You’re really going to turn down a meal with your flesh and blood?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and stare up at the clouds that almost look fake, they’re so perfect. “All right. What time?”
“Excellent. Let’s meet at The Hungry Walleye at six.”
“Okay. And Bruce? As far as business goes, Everett Whitman could be a snake, but I’ve signed a contract with him. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I hear ya. I’ll go easy on you tonight. Like I said, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Got it. I’ll see you tonight.”
I hang up and stare at the water in frustration. I don’t have a good feeling about all of this.
I turn to walk toward the house and Goldie is standing there with a strange expression.
Shit. What did she hear?
She smiles and my smile back is reluctant. Maybe she didn’t hear anything.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt,” she says.
“What? No.” I shake my head. “I was done. What’s up?”
“The guys said you told them where to find the easel.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “They’re not usually quitethatgood with gifts. I mean, they’re not terrible, but—” She wrinkles her nose and I relax even more.
