Summer Island Sisters

by Ciara Knight

  Dustin remained standing there even after the door slammed behind an infuriated Rhonda.

  Trevor dried a glass and slammed it down on the counter. “You better decide how far you want to take this. That woman might be your only friend left if you tear down Trace’s house without a good reason.”

  “I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am, and that’s why I’m being honest. You’ll never forgive yourself if you destroy Trace’s father’s house.” Trevor picked up another glass and stuck the cloth through the mouth and twisted side to side. “Jewels says this isn’t just about her father’s house. Something happened to her. Something she’s not talking about.”

  “What?” Dustin’s skin crawled at the thought. He wanted to win but not harm Trace. That’s why he’d spent all night reviewing the zoning laws. If he could keep her home and not give in to her demands, he’d be the bigger man.

  “Don’t know. I’m just saying. She doesn’t want to give in to the hotel remodel for a reason more than we understand.”

  Dustin grabbed his proposal from the coffee table. “Remember, you’re the one who begged me to come live here with you.”

  “I know, but I never thought it would turn south, catch the trade winds, and end up in Cuba before you even started.” Trevor put that glass down next to the other clean one. “All I’m saying is that I’m Team Dustin, as long as the leader doesn’t play dirty. And if I know my friend, he’d never destroy someone’s home to get a few shutters updated on a building.”

  “I’m not evil. But Trace brings out the worst in me. I had to deal with so many tree huggers in business, I’m sick of them. All bark and no real cause.”

  Dustin hot-footed it up the stairs, showered, shaved, and studied his situation. If he betrayed Rhonda, he could alienate his only friend besides Trevor. If he chose Trace’s side, he could lose Rhonda, the only one who was willing to take his side on his problem with the county.

  After sulking and thinking for the little time he had left, he joined Trevor to head out to the town meeting. Nerves swam and spun in his gut. “I’ve been thinking. I’ll do what I can to not tear down Trace’s house if the county approves these new plans. No reason to bite the head off a shark if I can stay on land.”

  Trevor laughed. “I’m not sure that made sense to most people, but to me it does. I’ve got your back in there if that’s the case.” He slapped Dustin on the shoulder. “Thanks for not making me choose sides.”

  “I won’t unless they do. Besides, the T-shirt thing was never an idea I agreed with. That was all Rhonda. I doubt a few shirts will change anything around here anyway.”

  They turned the corner and spotted a congregation of people standing outside the main courthouse. All of them were dressed in hot pink shirts. A nip of nerves ate at him.

  “What’s going on?” Dustin asked rhetorically.

  Trevor opened his mouth, but he didn’t have to answer when they reached the front walk and Trace turned to show off her bedazzled, beguiling, billboard of a cause on her chest. White swirly letters with stones and glitter that spelled out Team Trace gnawed at his resolve. “What’s this?”

  Wind pushed through the crowd and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You didn’t think we’d let you take down her childhood home, did you?”

  “Considering you took turns chained to the shack? The thought never even floated to the surface.” Dustin spotted Rhonda waving a shirt at him from the other side of the crowd. A crowd that made him believe they were waiting for a rock concert more than a town hall meeting.

  He looked down his nose at the little blonde who threatened his hotel for no reason but spite. In an attempt to remember they were enemies, he reminded himself that she wasn’t a beautiful, sweet woman, despite her petite frame and blonde hair. But then he remembered Trevor’s words about how she was struggling with something and swallowed his pride. “You need to calm down so we can work this out.”

  Trace rose to her toes. “Now you want to talk to me? Funny how your attitude changed when you know you’re going to lose.”

  Jewels slid between them. “Now children, why don’t we talk—”

  That all-too-familiar competitive slap in the face stung his resolve to be cordial. “I don’t lose.”

  Trace pointed to the crowd. “You’re going to.”

  Trevor appeared at their side, the crowd pushing them around. “Come on, you two. We need to talk about how to work it out instead of allowing everyone else to stir up more trouble.”

  The front door swung open, and out stepped Cap. “Calm it down out here. Anyone not being cordial will be escorted from the building, right Sheriff?”

  A man Dustin hadn’t met, standing in a police uniform of shorts and button-up dark top, waved his hat at the crowd. The slight young officer didn’t look like he could handle a mob like this one.

  The people funneled in.

  At the doorway, Trace leaned into Dustin’s side. “You can back down before you’re humiliated.”

  Rhonda tossed shirts into the crowd, and Dustin snagged the gaudy purple, swirly, girly shirt. He ripped off his coat and slid the shirt over his head. The too-tight fabric hugged his chest and stomach like a woman’s Spanx. “We’ll see who wins.”

  Chapter Nine

  Trace settled between Jewels and Wind but didn’t see Kat anywhere. Mr. Mannie hobbled in with his pink Team Trace T-shirt on. As ridiculous as this was, it warmed Trace’s heart that he was taking her side. But behind him stood Skip, clad in a Team Dustin uniform. The room was dotted with bright shirts scattered like a rainbow had spewed rabid rose-colored rabbits and predatory purple panadas.

  That was it. No more of Wind’s cocktail creations. Trace rubbed her head, not sure if it was from last night’s drink or the stress of her friends and family feuding. “This isn’t right. The town shouldn’t be torn apart because I want to save my father’s house.”

  Jewels rubbed her arm with an I-know hitch to her brow.

  Wind shot forward. “Don’t go soft on me, girl. You’re in the right.”

  “Am I? Rhonda’s right about one thing. I wasn’t here when my father died.”

  Jewels pulled her in for a friend group hug with Wind. “Your father didn’t tell you until it was too late. You couldn’t make it on time. That isn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe not, but I could’ve handled things differently. I was always off protecting everything instead of staying home to protect my father. I should’ve done more.”

  Wind slid free, eyeing the town residents around them, but Jewels’s gaze landed firmly on Trace. “When you’re ready.”

  Trace ignored the offer. Not now. Not here. Not ever.

  Mrs. Whitmore marched up, pumping her arms and waggling her butt like she did when she powerwalked up the street for her daily exercise. “You’re gonna win this. No way the county can vote against their own.” She adjusted her water belt she wore everywhere out of the house. “Then again, Rhonda’s a native, too.” She eyed her shirt and then Rhonda.

  Wind stood and shot out her hand. “We thank you for your help. Especially when we’re attempting to preserve the past of our town elders instead of tearing down their memories for condos.”

  “Condos?” Mrs. Whitmore tugged her shirt down and pushed out her sagging chest. “Team Trace all the way!” She pumped her fist into the air and then powerwalked to the front of the room.

  “Where’s Kat?” Trace asked the question that had been haunting her since after breakfast when Kat had sped out of the house with only a backhand wave and promise to save the town.

  “There she is.” Wind pointed to the side door where the town council entered with her.

  They all took their seats, Kat included.

  “What’s going on?” Trace fidgeted with her shirt hem and her anxiety.

  “Probably pulling some lawyer stunt.” Wind cupped the side of her mouth and hollered, “Team Trace!”

  Those two words tossed fuel on the town debate fire, and the room
erupted in boisterous debate.

  A gavel pounded against the laminated top of the long table at the front of the room that was packed to the brim with residents.

  “I haven’t seen a turnout like this for one of these meetings since the great debate of Greg Yates and his eligibility to run for mayor.” Jewels scanned the room as if working an ops mission for Summer Island Secret Security.

  “Why was that a thing?” Wind asked in a this-sounds-deliciously-intriguing tone.

  “He was born in another country but had been a citizen for years. His opponent stated he wasn’t legal because he wasn’t born here.”

  “In the United States?” Trace asked, more to say something so she could ignore the twisting, turning, tumultuous waves in her stomach.

  “No, Summer Island.” Jewels half smiled. “If that kept Mr. Yates’s from winning, I’m sure we can use prejudice against Team Dustin.”

  Trace rubbed her belly. She’d used some underhanded stunts to win against big business before, and she didn’t respect what Dustin was trying to do, but he was a victim, too. Rhonda could be persuasive enough to convince anyone they were in the right. She let out a long I’ve-been-stupid sigh and wanted to go talk to Dustin, to work things out, but when the gavel hit the tabletop three more times and the shouts still didn’t stop, she knew it was too late to work it out between themselves. The town wanted a say now.

  “Everyone, please.” Mayor Maclin stood with hands splayed toward the audience. “We won’t accomplish anything this way.”

  People quieted. A few rogue shouts echoed through the silence. “Stop erasing elders!” Mrs. Whitmore shouted.

  Trace was impressed with her word choice for impact. Maybe she’d underestimated her ally.

  “Rats, roaches, and vagrants be gone!” Skip shouted in a voice aged with smoke, years, and attitude.

  “All of this is useless because the law will dictate what happens. That’s why we have a special announcement with Kathryn Stein.”

  “She’s one of them.” Rhonda shot from her chair to the front.

  Trace gave Kat credit. She didn’t even flinch at an advancing, riotous Rhonda.

  “I’m on the side of the law. You may sit down, or you may be removed from this room,” Kat said with her authoritative attorney attitude.

  “You can’t do that.” Rhonda turned to the people watching. “She’s not even a local any longer.”

  “Actually, I am. I’m owner of my parents’ home. I bought it the other day. A home I grew up in, learned in, played in.”

  Rhonda rounded on her, but Sheriff Vincent slipped to Rhonda and took hold of her arm before whispering something in her ear. She gave him a sideways taser-stinging stare but then settled into her seat in the purple section.

  “Now, if we may proceed.” Mayor Maclin took her position in the center of all and moved the mic to speak. “We have a proposition that will be within the confines of the law and will hopefully satisfy both sides of this issue. Ms. Stein has graciously drawn up contracts that both parties will sign. In this contract, the following will be executed.”

  The mayor shuffled some papers but not fast enough that Trace missed her shaking fingers. What was she about to announce? Certainly Kat wouldn’t have helped them with tearing down Trace’s home. No. She’d never do that.

  Mayor Maclin placed her palms flat against the table and cleared her throat. “Due to the complaint filed against the property located at Latimer Circle by a resident—”

  “Go Rhonda,” someone shouted from the back.

  Mayor Maclin shot a warning stare over the crowd that Trace had no doubt reached her target. “After having an inspector review the property, it was determined that the building was not up to code and it did present a risk to the town.”

  “What?” Wind shot up. This time it was Kat who shot a look and nailed Wind into silence.

  “Several official warnings were sent to the residence with no response. Therefore the town approved demolition.”

  Mr. Mannie slammed the butt of his cane twice against the linoleum floor. “She didn’t receive none. How crooked is this town?”

  “However,” the mayor continued, “it was determined that the mail was not forwarding to the appropriate heir to the property. Once contact was made, the property owner has expressed interest in bringing the home up to code.”

  “Yes, I would be happy to do that. Thank you,” Trace blurted, her heart, pulse, and grief slowing to starfish pace.

  “No. She had her chance.” Skip rose her hands, pumping the crowd into disorder.

  Mr. Mannie slammed his fist against the table, drawing attention to the usually serene person. “There’s more that might interest all parties if people would behave like adults long enough to hear it. We’re done with this town feud.”

  Dustin stood, his eyes darting about the room, skimming Trace but never settling on her. “Sir, can I ask about my property? Will I have an opportunity to share my new plans that will meet with all county and city historical zoning standards so that the stop work order can be lifted?”

  Trace was so relieved that her home wouldn’t be torn down, she wanted to make things right for once in her life. To stop fighting for things that weren’t her battle. “I’m willing to withdraw my complaint if he’ll meet the historical criteria specified by the town ordinances.”

  “We have decided that the restoration of the hotel is important to the town,” Mayor Maclin stated flatly, but that palm of hers shot up again like a wall to stop any further conversation. “The issue is that we don’t have the staff right now to monitor the progress to make sure that Trace Latimer’s house is brought up to code, nor the ability to watch over Mr. Dustin Hawk and his hotel project. Our fear is that Trace Latimer won’t have the ability or construction know-how to make the necessary changes; however, she possesses the information to update the structure while remaining true to the wants and needs of our town.”

  “I can manage,” Trace blurted, but it was as if her voice was blocked by the silver chia-pet hair in front of her.

  “Dustin Hawk has the construction experience to make the changes to his hotel but lacks the knowledge of what is within the zoning laws.”

  “I’ve studied them. I know the laws,” Dustin said loud and proud.

  “Sir, what is the allowed paint color for shutters, and are you allowed to remove the bay window at the front?”

  Dustin lifted his chin. “I’ll keep the bay window as is. The paint colors I have on my spreadsheet.”

  “Wrong. The bay window must be removed,” Trace grumbled too loud, drawing attention to her.

  “That’s correct, Ms. Latimer,” Mayor Maclin announced. “This is why you both will work together to restore both properties in the image of what is appropriate for Summer Island. Ms. Latimer will sign off on all paperwork at his hotel, and Mr. Hawk will instruct and sign off on all structural changes to her home. Each party must finance their own costs but will be monitored and assisted by the other person.”

  Trace’s gut wrenched tight. Her pulse thrummed. “That doesn’t make sense. We can both do our own work. He’s not standing over me every time I screw a nail into a wall.”

  “Hammer,” Dustin said tugging at the too-tight T-shirt he wore. “What I mean is that I agree with Ms. Latimer. We’ll be fine on our own.”

  The room erupted, Rhonda leading the charge, with shouts of elections and impeachment. The mayor set her gavel down, folded her hands, and waited. Waited for Rhonda to have her tantrum. Waited for the shouts to calm. Waited for Trace and Dustin to face each other and their fate.

  When the crowd finally quieted, Mayor Maclin rose from her seat and spoke in her political, parental voice. “I want you all to leave here thinking about your behavior and actions. We are a proud and passionate town. That’s one of the things I love about all of you. But sometimes following a cause can be counterproductive. I encourage each of you to look around. Mrs. Whitmore, last week you were almost hit with a fine for your lawn bei
ng too tall. Pat O’Rilley mowed it for you in the heat of the evening after working all day. And Mr. O’Reilly, last year, when you fell from the ladder and couldn’t take your cans to your street, Jewels Boone made sure they were out on time every week for trash day. None of you filed complaints against each other. You helped your neighbors because we’re not just neighbors, we’re a family. A Summer Island family.”

  The crowd, shamed into silence, watched the town council end the meeting and disappear through the side door. But Trace wasn’t happy. This wasn’t the ending she had hoped for. The thought of working side by side with Dustin Hawk churned her stomach and heart into a whirlpool of fear. Fear that she would kill the guy by the time they were done working together. Fear that she didn’t have fight enough left in her to make sure he kept his promise with preserving the history of the hotel. Fear that spending that much time with a handsome, charismatic man would twist her resolve and make her believe in possibilities—the possibility that he wasn’t the big business, bureaucratic boy toy she thought him to be. She knew what could happen when you joined forces with someone like him. He’d take her trust and twist it until she broke.

  Chapter Ten

  The town hall emptied faster than Dustin had fled Seattle for a less hectic life—a life that was anything but simple.

  Rhonda cut him off at the edge of the curb outside of the courthouse. “You’re not giving up, are you? You’ve got money. Hire your own lawyer. That woman works for Trace and her gang.”

  Dustin rubbed his head trying to alleviate the headache he thought he’d left behind in corporate America. “Lawyers take time and money. I’m sure Kat did this case pro bono.”

  “Bone what?”

  “Never mind.” He shuffled forward, wanting to find some quiet, but Rhonda wasn’t going to allow that.

  “I thought I chose a winner.” Rhonda maneuvered in front of him, arms and attitude crossed in front of him. “I thought you had a spine. You’re nothing more than a jellyfish.”