Page 109 of Summer Tease
“Hey, Eugene,” I say, trying not to sound disappointed.
“Hey, Gemma.”
Ugh. That’s not a voice bringing me good news.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I just got off the phone with Mr. Wallace’s agent. I’m really sorry, but they’ve canceled the contract. They say it just won’t work for the vision they have.”
Another burst of resentment bubbles up inside me, and I shut my eyes and take a second before responding. “Is it the boundary thing? Or the short-term lease problem?”
“The boundary issue, they were willing to work through, I think. There were alternative options for the dock. So ultimately, it was the short-term rental ban.”
Anger flashes in my chest, followed by a lump in my throat. The island got what they wanted.
“Do we have any other interested buyers right now?”
“Not at the moment. But don’t fret, Gemma. We’ll get a buyer. We can wait and see how this next week goes, or we can try to jumpstart more interest by lowering the price a bit.”
He’s right, but every bit we lower the price is money Grams doesn’t have for her retirement years. And I have a feeling she’s going to stick around for many years to come.
“Let’s wait a couple of days, at least,” I say, trying to sound like I’m taking this all in stride, when in reality, I’m hurt and frustrated.
Eugene agrees, and we hang up. I stare blankly ahead.
Maybe I should’ve been more careful what I wished for. I was just complaining about everything being up in the air, and now the sale has officially collapsed. How much longer will it take to sell this house now? If we’re not working with investors, it’s a lot less likely we’ll get a cash offer, which means even if we got one today—which won’t happen—the sale wouldn’t close for another month.
Do I stay? Stick around until things are done and dusted? Who’s to say the island won’t pull another quick one and sabotage things somehow? You’d think if people wanted to get rid of us Sawyers so badly, they’d try tofacilitatea sale, not stop it.
I look around at the room, and my heart aches a little at the thought of someone else owning it and changing it to be theirs. I’ve never felt so conflicted in my life—wanting to get away fromSunset Harbor but also wishing so badly I could stay. Wishing so badly theywantedme to stay.
Beau said he wants me to. Can that be enough for me?
Not like it changes things with the house. It needs to be sold. Soon.
“Ugh!” I yell out, and the sound reverberates in the sparsely furnished house.
I force myself to focus on Beau’s presentation, even though with each passing hour, I feel a bit more uncertain.
At four o’clock, a text finally comes through.
Beau
So sorry. Been a crazy day. A manatee and her calf needing to be rescued. Still working on it. My personal phone died and then got lost in the chaos. We’re about to transport the animals to a mainland facility for treatment. I’ll call you as soon as I can—which is a whole lot less than what I’d *like* to do, believe me.
I let out a breathy laugh, full of nervous relief.
“See, stupid brain? He’s rescuing manatees!”
It’s amazing how differently I feel after that text. Especially that last part. I read it ten times before forcing myself to plug my phone in at least ten feet away so I can get some actual work done. I wish I had some footage of the manatee rescue to add to this presentation. Except I don’t want the whole city council falling in love with Beau; I just want them to give him a full-time salary and benefits.
I get into the zone, focusing in on the little details of the video presentation—the best fonts for the titles and captions, the best video transitions, adjusting the lighting as necessary. I’m so focused on the little things that Ialmostdon’t notice how insanely attractive the subject of all the videos is or how perfect he is for me. It’s hard to believe I’d ever find anyone as grounding, thoughtful, and fun as Beau.
Am I honestly considering leaving him behind? It’s certifiably insane.
I wish he weren’t so attached to the island, then we could start somewhere new together.
Whoa.
