CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A shrimp boat steered through the Sound, its nets extended over either side, as Landon drove over the Torras Causeway. The briny smell of the saltwater marsh seemed especially pungent at the middle stretch between the island and the mainland. Golden marsh grasses flanking the road could almost fool him into thinking he could walk across on solid land. Sinking up to his knees in muck if he tried, however, held no appeal.
He was on his way to a final meeting with the builder he’d hired. This project needed all of his attention. All of his focus. He didn’t have time to spend thinking about Kim or seeing her in a few days. Maybe her coming out to the site wasn’t dinner. Maybe it was almost rubbing salt in the wound, showing her around the property she’d lost and had kicked her out of her job. But he viewed it as an opportunity. And he’d jump at that.
The loud ring of his phone over the wind whipping past his ears interrupted his thoughts. Pulling into a parking lot on the mainland, he parked his car and answered his phone.
“Hello?”
“Landon, it’s your father.”
Landon’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Checking up on him? He took in a deep breath.
“How can I help you?” he coolly replied.
“I wanted to hear about your project.”
“You did?” Landon narrowed his eyes.
When he’d first come up with the idea, his father had dismissed it out of hand over dinner. As the plan took form, he’d never taken the time to meet. His father’s schedule had been conveniently full. Only after Landon began to work with architects and planners and approach investors did his father pay attention. The feelings he’d lived with his whole life, of being overlooked and ignored, had been confirmed. The last tense month at home made his departure a relief. He swallowed the rising bile.
“I did. I was at an event for one of your mother’s charities last night and was approached by Charlie O’Brien.”
“Oh?” Landon replied.
“He has some concerns.”
Of course. The biggest problem with Landon’s plan had been his investors. He’d received support from nearly all of his father’s friends. But without his father’s backing, he knew just how tenuous his situation was.
“Everything is on schedule. We break ground on Monday. I’m heading to the builder right now for a final meeting.”
“Good to hear. And how many units have you sold?”
Landon cleared his throat. “I haven’t started sales yet.”
“You’d better hurry up.”
“I wanted to have some models built first.”
“Trust me son, you can’t wait on this.”
A seagull landed on the ground of the parking lot in front of his car. Poking around at scraps on the asphalt. Landon had felt that way for a long time. He’d been circling, never making the forward progress he wanted. And when he finally had broken free, he’d been picking up scraps. He knew his father was someone who provided good counsel. The man had spent his entire working career in development. But why did he want to talk now? Was it just to point out the flaws and get him back to the company in Savannah soon?
“Landon, are you there? I can give you the name of the advertising firms and my contacts.”
“Father, I have those. I have contacts. I need to do this, and I need to do it my own way.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“Everything is on track. I’ll be moving forward with sales after the first two units are built.”
“Well don’t be surprised when you have investors looking for news. I’m only giving you advice.”
“Look Father, I appreciate that.” If I believed it. “But I have to get going. Can we talk later?”
“Sure. Bye.”
Landon ended the call and left the phone in the passenger seat. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. His father’s concerns were no doubt things his friends had shared. Landon should have expected a call at some point, but after the last couple of weeks, he’d thought he’d made it into the clear. Pulling his car back onto the road, he navigated back toward Brunswick. He had work to do and he couldn’t let any doubts enter his mind, not doubts about his project or doubts with Kim. He refused.
* * * * *
For the second time in two weeks, Kim studied her reflection and readjusted the blazer of her best skirt suit. Standing next to her truck, she checked her lip-gloss in the side mirror and gave a quick once over to ensure she hadn’t smudged her mascara. The warm, overcast day reflected her mood. She was anxious, apprehensive, and excited, all rolled into one tense package. Kim pulled back her shoulders and stalked toward the door.
The office building, a tiny cottage half hidden by dense foliage, sat near the airport. Mint green siding with white trim gave the building a cheerful, tropical appearance. Set back from the road on a tiny gravel drive, Kim felt like she was entering another world. Lily had asked her to show up by eight-thirty, and she pushed open the door at eight.
Lily sat at a desk in the center of the room, typing furiously away. She glanced up and momentarily made eye contact, giving Kim the one minute finger. Stepping into the bright space, she noted the entirely open layout. Two other desks complete with phones and computers sat ready for use behind Lily’s. In the back corner of the room, she noted what must be the bathroom jutting into the room.
She walked over to one of the desks and set her purse on the top. Her clammy palms were her only betrayal. She’d never worked in such close quarters. At the firm, she’d been in a cubicle. While it lacked the true distinctions of dedicated offices, there had at least been a hint of privacy. She’d be in close quarters here. Despite the other desk, she knew only she and Lily would be in the office. The desks had been set up and equipped for the interns that cycled through the SCL.
“Kim, you’re early.” Lily nodded in approval as she got up from her chair and walked over to shake her hand. “Good, you’ve picked a desk.”
“If this is alright?”
“Absolutely. And settle in, we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
Lily gestured for Kim to take a seat behind the desk and she did. Kim pulled the leather chair out from the desk, took her seat, and rolled forward. Lily dropped four large three ring binders on to the surface. Kim’s eyes widen and when Lily turned her back to grab even more. Several paperback books and pamphlets joined the pile.
“We’ll sort out all the hr details over lunch, but for now, we have to work. The construction off Lawrence Road is due to start on Monday.”
“I know. I was invited by the developer to be on site.”
Lily raised an eyebrow. “You were?”
“He’s an old fl…friend.”
“Okay, good. That’s promising. Depending on where they start, we may or may not be able to save the property. We need them to hit something important, something to stall development. These are all of the details and records we have on that land, including old surveys and census records. I need you to study these with a fine-tooth comb. We need to try to figure out where the structures may have been.”
“Can’t you see them? Didn’t they leave any ruins?”
“No, the plantation house ruins belong to a private property. But this would be the cabins and we understand they were burned a long time ago. Maybe you can walk about the property and poke around.”
Kim nodded along but her mind raced. She hated the thought of using Landon. She wanted to see the land, and she knew he’d probably been anxious to show off his development. The conflict of interest was supposed to be gone. Now that conflict was only stronger, wedging between them.
“This post-it has your login credentials. I’ll let you get started.”
“Thank you, Lily.” Kim grabbed the sticky note and pressed it against the monitor. “I’m grateful for this opportunity.”
“I know you are,” she said with a smile.
Lily turned and resumed her seat. The unsaid make-me-proud was evident
in her eyes. She’d seen that look in her grandma’s eyes, and she’d lived up to it every time. She’d make Lily proud and show her that she deserved all the faith and trust placed in her. She’d have to figure out the whole Landon situation. Somehow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The crack of a branch had Landon ducking and moving out of the way. Working nearly non-stop, the team he’d pulled together had been clearing pines all morning. Luckily for him, the land already had a gravel access road, an old remnant from its forgotten days belonging to a larger piece of property. That had been one less thing to worry about. Finding contractors, homebuilders, and excavators, and of course working with the civil engineers had been eye opening.
Back in Savannah he spent most his time behind a desk, overseeing grander day-to-day operations and ensuring projects were on time. Working for himself, he’d had to get his hands dirty. Dressed down in jeans and a polo shirt, he felt ridiculous next to the men sweating under their labors as they worked on the first of the models. So far the work had been slow and circling, making sure he did everything in the right order had never seemed so important before. But breaking ground on undeveloped land meant he had to start from scratch. He wasn’t tapping into the island’s ready-made infrastructure. He had to first build the pipes and sewers and run them to the main system. Not to mention develop a permanent road plan with the council to determine what traffic signals would be needed before the next meeting in a couple weeks.
With closed his eyes, he rubbed his temples. He took in a deep breath, the pungent smell of the marsh mingled with the pine of the trees. A forest in the middle of a salt-water marsh. The unique location had presented him with all types of burdens. When he’d first determined that he had to come to St. Simons to see Kim, he’d assumed any stretch of land would work for his purposes. He hadn’t realized that if he built too near the marsh he’d have even more restrictions. The trouble is worth the chance to start over.
“Penny for your thoughts?” a familiar alto asked.
The smile stretched over his face as he opened his eyes. He kept his hands in his pockets, to keep from reaching out to stroke her arm and grab her waist. Pretty as a picture in a bright sundress, she teamed the girly outfit with a pair of sturdy and serviceable rain boots. He wished he’d have considered the terrain. His driving loafers would be in no state after a day at the job site. He’d never spent more than a few hours at a job, and developing high-rises in the city and mansions in the suburbs was not the same as a build in the woods.
“I brought coffee. Still cream and two sugars?” she asked, holding out a paper cup.
“Perfect. Thanks.” He took a sip of the warm drink.
He didn’t know if it was that progress was finally happening or that they’d had the chance to talk, but he felt relaxed, standing next to Kim in the dirt, in a way he hadn’t for years. Their relationship had been punctuated by celestial highs and stunning lows. Somehow, the middle ground had been washed out. Standing next to her, he began to remember nights spent studying next to each other on the couch as they listened to music. She didn’t feel the need to fill silence with constant chatter. He’d grown up so uncomfortable with the quiet, almost deafened by it at times, he’d had a hard time accepting that he didn’t need to fill every moment with noise. She’d taught him what a companionable silence meant. And in the years since she’d left, he’d forgotten that lesson.
“You seem to be making a lot of progress?” she asked, sipping her coffee.
“Well I have to get moving. My investors are expecting to see progress and profits.”
“Have you had a lot of feedback from the community?”
“Not much, to be honest. I’ve mostly been in contact with builders.”
“And what have they had to say about your plan?”
He winced. She had no way to know she’d struck a nerve. He knew she didn’t like his idea for developing the land. But he’d won her over when she saw his intentions of creating a community and not just a hipster trailer park as she’d first thought. Unfortunately, most of the local builders thought his idea was problematic. His location was off for a beach shack, they told him. If he wanted to capture this demographic, he had to be closer to the water. Appealing to higher end clientele made no sense to many of the builders who argued those people already had their own residences. And his favorite was being told he’d created a family friendly community that no sane family would ever seek out.
“Hey, are you here to spy on the project? I thought I’d agreed to let you stop by as a gesture of goodwill.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll back off. Hold this.” She handed him her coffee cup.
A pink lipstick smudge on the lid had him smiling. He remembered how much she hated make-up. But the dress, the evidence of cosmetics, and if he leaned in just an inch closer, as he did under the guise of shifting his weight, the scent of lavender perfume all meant she’d put in an effort at seeing him. All combined, that felt like a victory for the morning.
She continued rummaging through her bag, seemingly oblivious to his perusal as she wrinkled her brow. Finally, she pulled out a big spiral notebook and opened to a sheet almost filled with her swirly script.
“Wow, what’s that?”
“I had my first day at work last week. And it kept me busy all weekend.”
“Really?”
“Yep. This land used to be part of a larger plantation. The manor house burned a long time ago and the land was preserved by the government. We think there might be a slave cemetery and possible some old dwellings on your land.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that. But if that’s the case, why didn’t you try to lobby for the land to be saved that way? Why bid for it?”
“We’ve been understaffed and slammed and thought buying the land outright would be the quickest way to protect it.”
Taking another sip of his coffee, the sweet drink suddenly tasted too syrupy in his mouth. Wish I would have known that a few months ago. Although, he understood, no one had been under any obligation to tell him anything. He’d been the interloper. No one wanted to help him succeed on this project.
The buzz of the machinery whirring as trees were flattened and foundations dug suddenly came to a stop. He heard the hooting and hollering before he saw the frantic arm waving of the crew on the first tiny house’s plot. Without any word, he raced toward them. He felt sure he must have an accident or something tragic on his hands. Kim ran alongside. When they reached the plot and approached the group standing shoulder to shoulder, he followed the collective gaze staring down at a guy inspecting the end of his shovel.
“What is it? Is someone hurt?” he shouted and the men parted to let him and Kim through.”
“No,” the builder stepped forward out of the group of workers. “But you might be. We hit bone. There’s nothing else we can do until this gets investigated.”
His mind registered the swift intake of breath at his side. But the words didn’t penetrate his brain for a second. When they did, he wanted to swear or hit something. He’d finally decided to take action. He’d finally gotten everything ready to be the man she deserved and to come back. And now he’d have to leave.
“Landon?” she whispered.
He considered her. He wanted to grab her hand and squeeze it to let her know it’d be okay. But he couldn’t.
“I guess you won,” he murmured back. “Take it from here.”
And without another word, he walked off. He heard instructions being given and murmurs among the gathered group. He kept one foot in front of the other. He hopped in his car and drove until he ended up back in front of that little bar in the Pier Village. He couldn’t go back and face his grandmother. And he couldn’t stand to be near his phone either. He didn’t want a drink. He needed a friend.
Parking the car, he crossed the sidewalk in a few steps and knocked on the glass of the door. The interior was dark again but a face appeared in the window in less than thirty seconds.
“You know, we’re st
ill not open for day drinking on the weekdays here,” Phil chuckled as he opened the door wide enough for Landon to enter and then shut it behind him.
“I’m still not here to drink.”
“Huh. Well, your unloading skills were subpar last time. So how about we just skip the formality this time.”
“Fair enough,” Landon chuckled. “Can I fold napkins or something?
“Not a restaurant. Just a bar. Thanks for the offer, but take a seat, I’m finishing washing up some glasses anyways.”
Landon followed Phil back toward the bar. He sank onto the bar stool and rested his forearms on the countertop. The position was inviting, relaxing, and made him want to rest. He wanted to lay his head in his hand and hunch forward, not caring about posture or anything else.
“What’s going on this time? Still saying the wrong thing to the woman you were talking about?”
“No, not this time. Well, maybe, I guess,” Landon considered. He had just walked out on her and left her in charge. He wanted to kick himself and get back in the car and drive over to the site. That had been childish, unprofessional and she deserved better. The builders deserved better. He’d lost out on a chance and then screwed up the rest of his options with his behavior.
“Is the woman in question Kim?”
Landon nodded. His gaze connected with Phil, and he took a sharp breath in. The other man looked hard as stone, unrelenting and unforgiving. The message in his feet shoulder width apart, hands fisted stance couldn’t have been any clearer. Mess with her and I’ll mess with you.
“I have to warn you that I’m not the impartial listener I was the first time we met. I know Kim. I like Kim. I respect Kim.”
“I do too.”
Coastal Erosion Page 12
