See You at Sunset

by V. K. Sykes

  “The thing is, dear,” Beatrice said apologetically, “we can’t see how the two of us could possibly put all those changes into place. Especially if Florence isn’t completely up to scratch for a while. So—”

  “So the only way we can see all this working is if you’re able to stay here long enough to see the changes through,” Florence finished.

  Holly swallowed hard against the sensation that her stomach had decided to take a stroll up her throat. Stay long enough to see the changes through? That would probably take several weeks—maybe even a couple of months if they expected her to line up all the new suppliers. And there was no way that could work for her. Not with her New York partners breathing down her neck and her Boston firm expecting her back too.

  “Aunt Florence, Aunt Beatrice, I’m so glad you’re going to do this. And I’m sure I can get almost all the basics in motion while I’m still here, like contracting for the necessary renovations and the new equipment.”

  “I hear a but coming, don’t I?” Florence said.

  “Well, I do have to get back to Boston soon, and I have to meet my obligations to my new partners in New York too.” Holly forced a smile, even though she felt panic rising inside her. “I’m balancing quite a few balls here. I’ll do as much as I can by the time I have to leave, and Morgan is willing to help you as much as she can after that. I’ve already discussed it with her.”

  Florence’s eyes pinched shut for a moment, as if a wave of pain had passed through her. “Holly, Morgan’s a wonderful girl, and she certainly knows how to run a bed-and-breakfast. But she’s not you. You’ve been helping with the store since you were a little girl. You know the business inside out.” She glanced at Beatrice, who looked ready to cry, then heaved a huge sigh. “Oh, well, I suppose if you have to go, you have to go. Beatrice and I will manage. We always do.”

  God, talk about the mother of all guilt trips. Did she think her life was complicated before? Now she had to completely steer her aunts through this crisis without blowing the deal with her new partners. All she could do now was pray that somehow she could make it work in the time she had left on the island.

  Good luck with that.

  Chapter 11

  What an evening,” Micah said, breathing out a contented sigh as he gazed into the deepening dusk over Casco Bay. The only sounds were crickets chirping, the occasional frog croaking, and waves gently sloshing on the rocky shoreline.

  Holly glanced up at him, a warm smile lighting up her gorgeous features. His pulse hammered in his veins, like it always did when she looked at him like that. Sometimes he imagined her sweet smile was like a secret, intended only for him.

  “Perfect weather and another sunset to die for,” she said. “And it’s so, so peaceful here. You can almost forget there’s a big, bustling world going on over there on the mainland.”

  He and Holly had strolled down to the landing after he finished his work on the porch for the day. “It’s great to be able to cut out all the background noise of the city and focus on the things that really matter.”

  When she paused for a second, he wondered if he’d offended her. After all, she was a city girl through and through.

  Then she smiled at him again. “Like friends?”

  “Sure. Like everybody and everything you love. Everything you really care about.”

  “Yes,” she said, sounding wistful.

  “Holly, you could have that again too, if you stayed.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. “Sorry, I shouldn’t lecture you. I know you love the city and what you’re doing.”

  “Well… on most days I do.”

  That was a bit cryptic, but then she turned away, as if signaling the end of that particular topic.

  “Hey, let’s go hang out at the dock for a while,” she said. “It’ll be deserted until the next ferry comes in. We could even make believe we’re waiting for a boat to take us anywhere in the world we want to go. Remember how we all used to do that when we were kids?”

  Some kids had named exotic places like Tahiti or Hawaii or Africa, while others—mostly the girls—wanted to go to romantic cities like Paris and Rome. For as long as he could remember, Micah had always said he’d go to the Arctic, maybe taking the Northwest Passage and ending up in Alaska. Most kids had thought he was nuts, but severe and remote lands had always fascinated him. They were difficult and challenging and incredibly beautiful.

  Just like the woman standing beside him.

  “Good idea. How about some ice cream first?” Micah nodded toward the seasonal store at the foot of the shallow hill.

  “Awesome. You know I can’t resist Sam’s almond mocha.”

  Unlike the Jenkins General Store, which sold only packaged ice cream, Sam Appleby’s Island Market carried big tubs in various flavors. Micah ushered Holly into the tiny store that shared a one-story concrete building with Josh Bryson’s repair shop. Open from May until October, the store’s niche was tourists and day-trippers, plus any island resident that wanted to snag some bread, milk, or beer after getting off the ferry.

  “Hi, Sam,” Holly said with a wave. “We’re in serious need of some of your ice cream. Almond mocha for me and chocolate for the deputy, please.” She looked up at Micah. “In a cone, right?”

  “Always,” Micah said. Yeah, he was pretty predictable.

  Appleby, a pleasant-faced man of about fifty with wiry gray hair, stopped loading beer into one of his coolers and headed behind the ice cream counter. “You got it, Holly. How’s Florence doing?”

  “Much better, thanks. I practically had to chain her up to keep her out of the store.”

  “Glad to hear she’s okay.” Sam grabbed a sugar cone from a tall container. “People are guessing it was the Night Owl thing that took her down. If that’s true, I can understand it. I’m worried as hell too.”

  “It didn’t help, that’s for sure,” Holly said.

  “Lots of people have signed Miss Annie’s petition,” Sam said, nodding toward a clipboard on the counter, “including some day-trippers who really appreciate the local merchants. Maybe the selectmen will deny Night Own the permit if we keep up the pressure.” He handed Holly her cone, wrapped in a napkin.

  “The response has been good at our store too. And Aunt Florence is working the phones like crazy.” Holly rolled her eyes. “Man, she would have made an awesome Borg Queen.”

  Both Sam and Micah laughed.

  “I think Miss Annie’s already buttonholed everybody on the island,” Sam said. But then his face turned somber. “I hope so, anyway. There’s no way my place can survive with a Night Owl store in Seashell Bay. Hell, they’ll probably drive both our stores out.”

  “Not if we can help it, Sam,” Micah said.

  As a rule, Micah stayed away from controversial issues as best he could. He needed the respect of all islanders, regardless of their political beliefs or their stands on local issues. But the threat posed by Night Owl was making it damn hard to keep from speaking out. The idea of Sam and the Jenkins sisters losing their stores and livelihoods to some corporate chain made him sick.

  “I appreciate that, Micah.” Sam patted down a double scoop of chocolate ice cream and handed the cone over. “And there’s no charge for the cones.”

  Micah shook his head as he pulled out a five and two ones from the pocket of his shorts and pushed them across the counter. “Have a good evening, Sam.”

  With an apologetic smile, Sam picked up the cash as Micah and Holly headed out.

  “I’m glad you insisted on paying,” she said as they made their way to the dock.

  “He didn’t put up much of a fight—not like you did over the coffee,” Micah said wryly. “Seriously though, losing the store would be a huge blow to him and Sarah. But the corporate honchos at Night Owl headquarters won’t lose any sleep over them or your aunts.”

  Holly linked her arm in his, and a zing of energy shot through his body.

  “It’s just business to them
,” she said. “That’s why I’m trying as hard as I can to make sure Florence and Beatrice are able to survive even if Night Owl comes here. I’m glad they’re willing to try some new things, but it’s still going to be a battle to bring in enough real change.”

  Micah pulled her in closer, relishing the feel of her slim, warm body next to his. She’d often linked arms with him in the past, but now it felt different. Like they might be lovers out for an evening stroll. That deeply appealing idea, combined with the nicely curved hip nestled against him, had certain parts of his anatomy taking notice.

  Down, boy.

  “Your aunts have been doing the same thing for a long time,” he said, trying to focus on the conversation. They turned onto the deserted dock. “It’s not surprising that they’re a bit scared of change.”

  “True, but when so much is at stake, you have to take some risks. Look at me. I’m giving up a really good, secure job to strike out in a new venture in a different city. That’s not exactly easy either.”

  “That’s brave for sure, but don’t forget that they’re twice your age. They don’t have much room to make mistakes.”

  “I know. Believe me, I’m feeling the pressure. From everywhere.”

  When they reached the end of the dock, both leaned against the black iron railing and stared silently out at the deepening dusk and the lights winking to life on the neighboring islands. Micah demolished his cone, but Holly was taking her time. He loved watching her tongue curl around the smooth mound of ice cream. As could be expected, how could he not imagine that sweet mouth and pink tongue all over him?

  He had the feeling she knew it too. And from the little glances she kept darting his way, she didn’t seem to mind.

  Now that was interesting.

  “I hope I don’t sound like I’m whining,” she said after a while. “I hate pressuring my aunts, and I know how hard it is for them, but I’m just trying to do my best before I have to leave.”

  “I’m sure they know that. And I’m really happy you’re staying longer.” They’d dropped arms to lean against the railing, but she was still close, her shoulder and hip still resting against him. Micah decided to test the waters a bit.

  “A guy could get used to having you around, you know.” His voice came out low and raspy.

  Holly seemed to hold her breath, then let out a quiet sigh. “I wish I could be here a lot more. Every single time I come back, I feel the same way. But then I go back to Boston and get all caught up again in my job and my life…”

  She moved to put a little space between them.

  Dammit.

  Ryan had mentioned that Holly didn’t seem all that keen on her boyfriend, but maybe it was time to finally find out the status of things while he had the chance.

  So he said, “I guess your boyfriend must be happy you’re moving to New York.”

  Holly’s brain scrambled to find the right words. Micah had obviously assumed her remarks about her complicated life had included Jackson’s role in it. In fact, she hadn’t been thinking about her boyfriend at all.

  She’d been thinking about Micah and how he fit—or didn’t fit—into her life.

  “Actually, I suspect Jackson may be almost as nervous about it as I am,” she said.

  “Seriously? He should be doing a nonstop happy dance. I would be.”

  That surprised her. Clearly, her old pal had decided to put himself out there a bit.

  It was also clear that Micah didn’t understand her relationship with Jackson. That certainly wasn’t his fault, since they’d never really talked about how she felt after Drew was killed or the way she’d decided to try to rebuild her life. She’d been shut down for years, guarding herself against a repeat of the pain of that devastating loss. Sure, she’d talked to Lily and Morgan about it—wailed and cried, more like it—but Holly wasn’t comfortable with public expressions of emotion or grief. She’d been that way after the deaths of her parents too. In both cases, the sudden losses were too horrible to express in words or tears. For her, talking about the pain had never eased it. Only the passage of time had partly accomplished that reluctant miracle.

  She dropped the remains of her cone in a trash container, her appetite for it gone. “Micah, it doesn’t work that way between Jackson and me,” she said, wiping her fingers on the napkin.

  He leaned against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. His T-shirt was stretched tight over his biceps and his amazing shoulders. “I know things are complicated for you. If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

  She had to smile. He wasn’t just there for her—he was always there for everyone on the island who needed a helping hand or a sympathetic ear.

  Or a kick in the ass if that was what the person needed.

  “It works because Jackson and I are hardly ever in the same place,” she said. “When we started dating, neither of us had any expectations, and that was exactly what I needed. Because, well…” She trailed off, not sure how to say it.

  “Because it could never compare to what you had with Drew,” he said quietly.

  She peered up at him, but it was now dark enough that she had trouble reading his expression. “Right,” she said.

  “So I guess that means you don’t love him.”

  Wow. Micah was really putting it out there tonight. When he spent all that time with her last summer, he’d pretended Jackson didn’t exist. They both had.

  She blew out a sigh and averted her gaze. The lights of a ferry cut through the twilight a couple of miles down the bay, heading toward the city. “Micah, I’m still not… I’m not ready for a real relationship yet. Not like I had with Drew.”

  At least that’s what she told herself whenever she was with Jackson. But maybe that was because it was Jackson.

  She wandered over to the opposite side of the dock, looking down at the motorboats and skiffs that were tied up at the floats. Micah followed her, silent and strong, a comforting presence at her back. She could feel his warmth behind her, and suddenly she wanted to feel his arms around her.

  “All I know for sure is that you deserve to be happy,” he said in a soft rumble. “Drew was a great guy—the best, really. But I’m sure that at some point he’d want you to move on and find happiness again. The real thing.” He paused. “You know he would, right?”

  Holly glanced up at Micah. He towered over her, radiating concern and… well, love.

  And that scared the hell out of her.

  Chapter 12

  Holly had opened the store at eight o’clock and had managed less than thirty dollars in sales in two hours. More than half of that came from Roy Mayo buying gas for his golf cart and also picking up a six-pack of beer. And he’d dropped off another stack of petitions that Miss Annie had printed out.

  At least the lack of traffic had given her lots of time to make phone calls and plan out the renovations to the store.

  Her next call was to Brendan Porter, the local carpenter and cabinetmaker. Brendan was always busy, and Holly worried that she’d have to resort to using some contractor from Portland—not a good situation if she wanted to get the bulk of work completed before she left. She simply had to talk Brendan into taking on the project.

  “Holly,” he said over the whine of a power saw in the background, “how are you? How’s Florence?”

  “She’s coming along. Thanks for asking, Bren. I’m calling on the chance that you might be able to free up a few days to do some renovations on the store. We need to make some changes, especially with the Night Owl situation.”

  “That’s great, but how soon are you talking about? My schedule’s jammed.”

  Holly quickly explained the situation, emphasizing the need for some urgency.

  “You said about four days’ work?” Brendan asked in a slightly skeptical voice.

  “That’s my best estimate. I want to move a couple of walls to expand the retail space, plus install new counters and a big deli case, which is already on order. Then just a few small cosmetic th
ings.”

  “Holly, can you give me a second?”

  “Sure.” She held her breath while he put the phone down, no doubt to check his schedule. If he said yes, she was going to owe him big-time.

  Brendan came back on. “How about if I get a good start this weekend? I was planning to get in a little fishing, but this is more important. And I figure I can put off next week’s job for a few days. Those folks will understand when I tell them it’s for Florence and Beatrice.”

  Holly sagged against the register counter in relief. “That would be perfect. And God bless you, Brendan. You’re the best. I owe you one.”

  “None of that, now,” he said in a gruff voice, clearly embarrassed. “When can we discuss the plans in detail?”

  “Any time you’ve got available.”

  “Meet you at the store around six today?”

  “Perfect.”

  “See you then.”

  She let out a ghost of a laugh, hardly believing her luck. For once, something was going right. But that was the way things worked on the island. Friendships and loyalties ran deep, and people made sacrifices for neighbors in need. People like Brendan were stark reminders of how different Seashell Bay was from Boston or New York. Holly didn’t even know the names of most of the people who lived in her small condo building.

  She poured herself another cup of coffee and punched in Jackson’s office number. She rarely called him at work because he never picked up. Today, she would be more than happy to just leave a message.

  To her shock, he answered on the second ring. “Hols,” he said, using the nickname she’d never much liked. “What’s up? You back from the boonies?”

  As usual, he sounded like he was listening with only half an ear. She could picture him checking the stock market on his phone or tablet as he paced around his thirtieth-floor office in the Madison Avenue skyscraper that housed his family’s wealth management firm.

  Holly grimaced. He was always ragging her about her attachment to that backwater island, though he usually managed to say it in a rather jesting voice. Jackson just couldn’t comprehend how anybody could even vacation in a place like Seashell Bay, much less live there. She doubted he would stay anywhere that didn’t have a luxury hotel or rental property—bedsheets with at least an eight hundred thread count—and certainly nowhere that didn’t have reliable high-speed broadband.