Coastal Erosion

by Rachelle Paige

  Side by side, no more than a few inches apart, something in her relaxed. Maybe he didn’t know that she had been at that meeting working for the opposition. Maybe her involvement on this project had been coincidental. What if I don’t want this to be an accident?

  “I’m confused by the scale,” she muttered under her breath.

  He tore his eyes off the papers on the table and stared at her. She shivered under his gaze. His eyes were light today, like the sky on a clear sunny perfect for lying on a picnic blanket and marveling at overhead.

  She cleared her throat and walked around the table to stand opposite him. She still didn’t quite know how to act professionally around him and not treat him like the man she almost married. Distance was good. She needed space to think clearly. Being around him had been addictive when they first met and had led to all sorts of choices. Some good, some bad, but every decision had led to the painful end. Nope. She didn’t want to move back. Control. Order. Efficiency.

  “What am I looking at here?” Kim pointed to a blueprint.

  “That’s one of the models.”

  “The whole thing? Really?”

  She leaned closer to the table and squinted, trying to understand what she was missing. The building seemed impossibly small. She’d had a college dorm room bigger, or not too far off. He pulled a set of drawings out from the bottom of the pile of paper and placed it on top. He spun the illustrations to her.

  “I guess I didn’t understand how small these would be,” she muttered.

  “It’s the next big thing. People are moving away from consumerism. Downsizing and living within your means are attractive qualities after the housing crash.”

  “I can understand wanting security,” she relented.

  Pulling out a chair, she sank down to more closely analyze the papers. He’d presented her with a puzzle. How could these houses be developed in a way to both attract a high-end clientele while not becoming a source of scorn for the other islanders? As much as she wanted to save the land, she couldn’t deny the temptation of the challenge he’d presented. Did he realize how this project tempted her? How it challenged her to reconfigure her opinions? And in reshuffling her priorities to accommodate this project couldn’t she also find room for him again?

  Control. Order. Efficiency. .

  “Did you say something?” He asked.

  She shot him a look and felt her face contort into what he had called the ‘red-handed’. Muttering to herself had been a lifelong habit she’d never been able to break. When he met her gaze, she swallowed the lump in her throat. Not only had she been caught muttering her mantra but acknowledgement passed between them of a shared memory.

  “Yes, I’m a bit confused. Why would someone seek our island out for downsizing? Traditionally we’re populated with a fair amount of snow birds and retirees.”

  “Exactly. It’s much easier to have two properties if one is small.”

  “I don’t think I like this.” She crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. She shook her head, glad for the bun that kept her thick golden waves off her neck and secured. Being taken seriously with flowing locks was a difficult task. She’d given up on it a few days into her first job. Beachy waves were saved for another side to her. Her bun empowered her.

  “Why don’t you like it?”

  “To me, this appeals to a clientele that I don’t think we have on the island. But if we did, I have to question the location. Wouldn’t this make far more sense near the beach? Wouldn’t this be the perfect house for beach bums?”

  His grin stretched from cheek to cheek. Uh oh. Now I’m in trouble. She hadn’t spent any time preparing herself for seeing Landon again. At least, she’d stopped doing that after he hadn’t come for her when she’d sent the ring. But in considering his appearance at the meeting the night before, she had realized that if their positions had been reversed, she’d be mad. She’d probably let herself indulge in expressing emotion. She’d want to yell and get answers.

  But not him. At least not yet. He seemed completely unsurprised, unperturbed and, worst of all, unaffected by her. And now grinning when she challenged him? She didn’t know what to expect from him next. She was in a lot of trouble.

  “This is why I need you on this project.” He sank into a chair opposite.

  The action struck her. In sitting down and joining her, he’d shown her he wanted to work together. Not boss and employee. Together.

  “I agree. The location is not ideally situated. But it is the right amount of land. Look at this,” he said, extending another drawing to her. She grabbed the paper, her fingers accidentally brushing his wrist despite her intent to keep space between them. A tremor threatened to shake her torso lose from the tight grip she kept and into his arms. No. She would not be seduced. She stared at her hands, now crossed in her lap.

  “I want to create a community, not a trailer park,” he began. “I want the houses to each be situated on a half-acre lot, and I want to build shared park space. You’re right. We aren’t near the beach, but one of my favorite parts of East Beach and the Pier Village are the sidewalks. I want people to be able to walk out their door and know their neighbors. I like the idea of being able to ride your bike from your home across Lawrence to join up with the bike trails and from there be connected with the whole island.”

  “Those are all concepts I like too. But this is a massive property you bought. Are you only going to develop sixty tiny houses?”

  “Not right away. I have backers for the first phase. I’d like to develop twelve as models and then sell the rest to homeowners and let them customize the house to their exact specifications.”

  She bit her lip. She couldn’t argue with that plan, but she’d have to figure out another way. She couldn’t work with him. The project he laid out threatened everything she’d struggled to find in her life. The development would directly affect her Grandma Rose and working side by side would destroy the careful boundaries she’d established. She’d given up on romantic love years ago. When he hadn’t tried to find her, she’d known that their relationship hadn’t meant what it had to her. She’d been right to leave.

  “I was at the meeting with the Society of Coastal Living.”

  She shut her mouth. The words had tumbled out. She’d had no intention of letting him know. The conflict of interest was huge. When she’d been working on civic projects, she’d been able to justify her involvement to herself. And after years working for the local governments, she’d grown to know many of the ins and outs of dealing with the bureaucracy. Her expertise had been invaluable to the group on numerous occasions. Working for the SCL or the island would be a dream. Not likely to happen with their current restrictions.

  “What?” He quirked an eyebrow but again didn’t rush to anger.

  “I think I should excuse myself from this project. I was at the meeting on behalf of the other side.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” She frowned as she considered him. He’d said no so swiftly and subtly she’d thought she’d imagined his response.

  “I said no.” He stared directly into her eyes. His words soft but intent. She remembered that gaze, the one that had led her to do any number of things she’d known she shouldn’t. The soft smile that started in his eyes and had her collapsing in his arms in an instant.

  “Kim, you’re the best. I know your drive and your work ethic. I’m not going to be passed off to someone else.”

  “But this is a huge conflict of interest.”

  “No it isn’t. Not to me. I have permission to develop this land, and I your help will make all the difference for me. Admit it. You’re intrigued at least a tiny bit.”

  She shifted in her chair, breaking the spell of the moment. She was. Working with him was intoxicating. He brought out her best ideas. He imposed restrictions and rules and challenged her. Maybe some people balked at limitations, but she soared under them.

  “Are you sure you want to move forward with me? You wouldn’t ra
ther have someone else?”

  “No. This is settled.”

  The door opened and the receptionist waved a slip of paper. She cringed. If the receptionist had overheard any of that conversation, if the woman had walked in five seconds earlier, her job would be toast. Not that she’d blame Paul Nathan. But still, she’d rather continue to juggle her commitments, even if somehow Landon had been added to the mix. Attending the meeting had been risky enough but she’d felt that being in the crowd would be unremarkable. The receptionist slid the slip of paper, writing down, across the table to her.

  She read the note and frowned. 311 or 411 or something. Rose.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Not sure. I think so. It probably is. But Cindy isn’t the best at taking down messages.”

  “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  “Do you mind? I think I need to step out. This is a family matter.”

  At the word family, he leapt to his feet and rushed over to help her with her chair. His chivalry caught her off guard, and she stood a little too close to him for comfort. She closed her eyes and breathed in the musky undertones of his cologne. He’d kept the same scent too. She’d had a sweatshirt that smelled like him. She’d cried herself to sleep wearing it for nearly six months. Until one day, she’d left it outside. The sun had saturated the sweatshirt with warmth and the smell had evaporated and been replaced by warm cotton.

  Clearing her throat, she took a step forward. He rushed ahead to hold open the door. He followed her from the room, on her heels as she stopped at her desk to retrieve her purse from the chair.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Walking you out of course,” he replied.

  Years ago, she’d learned better than to stop him from using good manners. So instead, she let him trail behind her as she crossed the office and tried to forget how close he was on her heels. He stepped in front of her to hold open the front door and let her pass again. She moved quickly this time. Another whiff of the cologne might make her react. No, she’d better keep everything bottled up. Shoving her feelings down had kept her focused and going through her twenties. It couldn’t fail her now in her thirties.

  “Do you need me to drive you?” he reached out and lightly grabbed her elbow.

  Shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, she studied him. “No, this is fine. Little emergencies tend to happen a lot with my family. I’ll probably be back after lunch.”

  He nodded in agreement, but his cloudy eyes and hands in pockets posture made him look unconvinced.

  “I promise everything is fine,” she said, reassuring him.

  And it probably was. Grandma Rose’s phone calls were often to steal Kim away for an afternoon of shopping or a lunch out. How many times did she hear her Grandma tell her she worked too much? Grandma Rose seemed to make it her personal mission to get her out of the office for at least ninety minutes a day during sunlight hours.

  “Although, there might be a problem,” she continued absentmindedly. Hadn’t Grandma mentioned something about the neighbor’s dog? She remembered meeting a big, shaggy, docile pile of fur once. Was that the same dog?

  “I’d better go.”

  “Wait, give me your number and I’ll call you. Just so if there is a problem you can reach me.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. Forgetting his last number had been an impossible task. Now she’d be connected to him all over again? No thank you. But the agitation in his stance, his furrowed brow, and his hunched back told her all she needed to know. She’d somehow upset him unnecessarily. He wouldn’t rest now, and she wouldn’t be able to convince him everything was fine. She’d have to cave.

  Holding her hand out, palm up, he dropped his phone into it. She entered her number and gave the phone back.

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” she added.

  She swiveled on her back foot and stalked off to her truck. Wrenching open the door, she hopped behind the steering wheel and turned the engine over. She didn’t need to peek to know he kept watching her. She only needed to know how long he was here. And she’d have to figure out how to either extricate herself from his project or get her questions answered. Or maybe both. And that would be messy.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Hello? Grandmother?” Landon called out as he pushed open the front door of her house in the Pier Village on St. Simons Island.

  The little shingled cottage had been updated and renovated and added onto more times than he could count. His grandmother’s love of a project knew no limits. Standing in the foyer, he surveyed the blocks of blue painted next to each other with fabric samples leaning against the wall below. In the fading light of day, the blues faded to a bleak gray. He shrugged off the downward spiral of his mood as his grandmother floated toward him.

  “Oh Landon, you nearly startled me half to death. Why are you here so late? I thought your meeting was only supposed to be a few hours this morning?” His grandmother Marie Smith-Thomson greeted and scolded in the same breath, coming to kiss his cheeks as he did the same to her.

  Despite her age creeping ever closer to eighty, she still stood ramrod straight. Her hair remained perfectly scraped into a bun without a strand loose. And her clothes were impeccably pressed even her casual outfits, like the oversized t-shirt and leggings she wore at the moment.

  “Are you heading out?” he frowned.

  He’d hoped for a chance to chat with her. Or, rather, talk at her. He rapidly tapped his fingers against his thighs. He needed action. He needed more than niceties and sitting around waiting for Kim. Working with her and sitting side by side would prove harder than he’d thought. Analyzing every breath, every flutter of her lashes, and every tiny gesture made him more aware of her than ever. Fighting for control over his impulses had left his body sore and aching with longing.

  “Well yes, dear. I have practice and I can’t be late.”

  “Let me drive you.”

  “Oh no, don’t make a fuss. That’s quite unnecessary. It’s only a few blocks away.”

  He put a hand to his stiff neck and rubbed the crick forming at the base. He might not be able to come straight out and say his piece to Kim without driving her away. Like, if you have a family emergency, don’t you think I should be involved? Worry over what had her racing out of the door had kept him unable to focus after she left.

  But he didn’t have the same concerns with the woman standing before him, his grandmother. He could speak his mind to her without fear of driving her away. He’d learned that during his angst prone teenage years.

  “I don’t know why you won’t learn to drive or hire a driver.”

  She snorted. “Those are two of the most ridiculous ideas I’ve ever heard. Why do I need to learn to drive? I live in the middle of everything, and if I have to travel, I go with a friend. And hire a driver? What a trivial expense when I have two legs that work.”

  But you won’t always. The words hovered on his tongue, better left unsaid. Age had always been deemed an indiscreet subject by his grandmother, tied with finances. As her years continued to creep up the topic had only become more toxic. He didn’t know how to express concern for her living on her own in a way that wouldn’t get his ears boxed. Deciding to move to St. Simons and start his company here had had the added benefit of keeping him close to his grandmother as well.

  “I’m here for a while. Let me drive you. It’s not for you. It’s a favor for me.”

  She stared at him. He didn’t waver or budge. He’d learned how to level an unnerving glare at someone from her. After thirty seconds her nose twitched and she waved him off.

  “Oh if you insist. Let me just grab my bag, and I’ll meet you outside.”

  He nodded and saw his way out. Manners had been ingrained in him at every possible moment his entire life. Every meal had been an opportunity to impress his parents with the lessons he’d learned at school or a chance for a correction to be made. He’d never stopped to question learning etiquette. He’d understood polit
eness and decorum to be fundamental to being a Beau. But only when he’d encountered other people in college, specifically headstrong beautiful Midwesterners, did he realize his manners set him apart.

  He leaned against the car door, waiting to help his grandmother into the car, watching the Spanish moss quiver in the barest hint of a breeze. Vegetation on her little stretch of the island gave the appearance of a wild overgrown jungle with vines and leaves obscuring any structure they could. No matter how much work landscapers did the wild jungle couldn’t be held back for long. He felt the same about himself. How long would he be able to keep up the professional façade with Kim? He wanted answers, but he didn’t want to stoop to demands. He just wanted the truth, and maybe, just maybe, he’d get her back too.

  God willing.

  The thud of the heavy front door shutting in its frame had him raising his face and rushing forward to help his grandmother down the flight of stairs to the ground. She waved off his concern. He supposed he’d be as bristly as she was when his time came. He could only hope he’d have grandchildren one day too. He walked ahead to hold open the door for her and shut it behind her. Jumping back in his car, he turned the engine over and carefully backed out of the cobbled driveway and onto the smooth asphalt of the town’s roads.

  “Landon, be honest with me, honey. Why are you here?”

  “Grandmother, you know why. This is my chance to make something of myself. To have my own career without my father’s name behind me.”

  “Dear, you’ll always have his name. You were named after him. You’re not being fair. How can you say he doesn’t believe in you? He wants you to take over his company?”

  He sniggered. That was the old line he’d said to everyone. He’d been hearing for years how one day he’d assume control of his father’s company. As a child, he’d worked hard to show his father he’d be capable of the responsibility. But the older he got, the more he understood that assuming control had more to do with primogeniture than skill. He didn’t want something to be handed to him, especially as he feared the man would stay on as a puppet master.