Summer With The Billionaire (Blue Bay Beach Reads Book 3)

by Ellie Hall

  When she’d left the apartment that she shared in Baltimore with three other women and a ferret—it was Lacey’s, not hers—they all warned her. She’d never been to Florida but was told it was the land of senior citizens and snowbirds (not to mention alligators and giant palmetto bugs). Her mother had retired after working in the admissions office at Rutgers University-Camden for thirty years and soon became one of the many retirees to flee cold northern winters to the sunshine state.

  Regardless, Eisley had experienced a series of setbacks recently, well, for the last ten years. Despite moving in with Mom, she’d deemed it the summer of finding herself. She needed to get her life on track—and quickly because bills and debt didn’t pay themselves.

  It wasn’t that she was irresponsible with money or couldn’t keep a job, but for various reasons, both slipped through her fingers like fine grains of sand. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty or sticky. She was a hard worker and honest, but had bad luck in life and love.

  Eisley exited the highway and followed a long flat road that led to the Gulf Coast. She sang along with an oldies station—the only one the radio in her 1992 Honda Civic picked up without too much static. After the chorus, she wasn’t sure of the words, so with the windows down and the wind whipping her hair into a tangle, she belted out, “It’s only temporary. Just for the summer. I can do this! This is my summer!” She was a little off key but didn’t plan a career in the music business.

  The virtual assistant on her phone somehow butted in and said, “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Eisley startled, glanced at her phone, which had the GPS running. Had she tapped it or was it listening to her? Moreover, she was offended. Her singing voice wasn’t that bad, was it? “Robot lady, keep your opinions to yourself. I’d like to hear you sing.”

  That silenced any further comment from the phone as Eisley continued to drive. Nonetheless, she stopped singing along.

  Eisley and her mother got along—as well as a proud woman of Greek descent from New Jersey and her daughter could. Although Eisley’s current status didn’t matters: single, recently been laid off, and moving back in. Diana Higgins could be a bit pushy and sometimes meddlesome, but they didn’t drive each other too crazy—although every time they spoke on the phone, Diana asked when Eisley was going to hurry up and get married.

  “It’s only temporary. Just for the summer. I can do this! This my summer,” she repeated as she rolled past a sign that welcomed her to Blue Bay Beach. She turned down the radio, pulled to the side of the road, and consulted the GPS.

  She blinked a few times. “I must’ve taken a wrong turn.”

  The phone repeatedly told her, “Arrived.”

  Only, she wasn’t sure if the mansions set back from the road with big gates and tall palms on one side and the crystal blue ocean on the other was the right place. Had she somehow gone off the map and ended up in paradise? Had her mother given her the wrong address? Actually, her mother didn’t give her home address specifically because she said it wouldn’t show up on the navigation system. Apparently, it hadn’t been recorded by the mapping service. Her mother, Diana, insisted that the town was small and she’d find number four Pelican Lane without any trouble.

  Catching sight of her herself in the car mirror, Eisley combed her fingers through her dirty blond shoulder-length hair. Her mother was going to tell her she needed a haircut. She wasn’t wrong, but money was tight and she saved where she could. She also needed a tan, a job, and numerous other things, but first things first, find her mother’s retirement community. She envisioned block-like buildings with a pool and a multi-purpose building in the middle. Clearly, she was in the wrong place.

  Eisley maneuvered back onto the sandy road, passing a few more mansions with Spanish tile roofs, fountains, and impeccable landscaping along with lush, exotic plants and flowers growing wild.

  As she rolled onto the main street of the town, her jaw dropped. It had to be a movie set. The shops were stucco or wood and painted pastel colors, the trees lining the sidewalk were strung with lights and flags, and the beachy vibe was all around picture perfect.

  She continued on and reached beach houses then cottages. The streets were named after sea birds: Tern, Skimmer, Plover, Gull, and then she reached Pelican Lane. Apparently, she hadn’t made a wrong turn. There were only four cottages on the street covered in a canopy of trees. She stopped the car at the end of the driveway of number four.

  How had her mother managed it?

  It wasn’t the duplex she’d grown up in back in New Jersey and it certainly wasn’t the building in Baltimore that probably should’ve been condemned. The cottage’s exterior shingles were painted a soft aqua shade of blue and the trim was white.

  The American flag flew proudly from the eave over the roof. Eisley never knew her father because he’d been missing in action toward the end of the war. He’d never met his daughter, but Diana named her after her father’s middle name, which had been Eisele. When she’d told Eisley the story, she’d joked, “Bob wouldn’t have worked” so she modified his middle name to suit the cheerful baby she’d had and in hopes that her husband would be found and return to them.

  At that twinge of a sad memory, Eisley drew a deep breath and got out of the car. Her shorts stuck to her legs after the long drive in the humidity. She welcomed the fresh breeze that came from the nearby sea.

  The screen door to the house opened and her mother emerged with arms outstretched, ready for what was sure to be a mama bear hug.

  Eisley sunk into her mother’s arms. For the first time in ages, she felt like she could take a deep breath.

  “Oh, you’re far too thin, Eisley. We have to do something about that. I made dolmades, moussaka, souvlaki, fasolada, and spanakopita just like Yia Yia used to make. I also got your favorite olives from the deli in Jersey. Do you remember Joan from down the street back in the neighborhood? She brought a cooler full of items from the deli for me when she and her husband went to Tampa. I recently met them for lunch,” Diana said always excited when she had company.

  “Was Joan the one with the cats?”

  Diana nodded then patted her daughter on the arm and squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad my little girl is home.”

  “It looks like you have a really nice home, Mom.” Eisley had to admit she was impressed.

  The space was light and airy. Geraniums and an assortment of other flowers hung from the front porch and a pair of rocking chairs were against one wall. There was also a hammock in the yard. She imagined it came with the house because she couldn’t picture her mother climbing in it with ease due to her arthritis.

  “And it looks like you need a haircut. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Diana said.

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re always fine.” Diana’s New Jersey accent was getting thicker with each word spoken—something that tended to happen when she got worked up or excited. Somehow, Eisley didn’t have an accent but hearing her mother’s brought on nostalgia.

  “Let me go grab my things from the car.” Eisley moved toward the driveway.

  “No, first, let’s eat,” Diana insisted.

  “It’s not much.” Eisley darted to the Honda and grabbed two suitcases. There were a few other odds and ends, but she’d get them later.

  Her mother helped. “I’ll show you around quickly. Because of my knees, it’s all one floor except for the loft. That’s yours. My room is down there near the bathroom where you’ll find a closet containing the washer and dryer. But don’t worry, I can take care of your laundry. Okay, here we are in the living room.” She pointed to the far right. “That’s the dinette and of course the kitchen.”

  The space was modest, but perfect for Diana and at least for a few months, Eisley too. The décor was only a mild throwback to her mother’s gaudy kitsch in New Jersey. She’d upgraded her ocean-themed decorations. Diana moved from Greece to New Jersey with her parents when she was an infant and had always said she fel
t called to return to the ocean. So in central New Jersey, she’d decorated their home with as many seashells, hand-painted signs with beachy-sayings, metal wall hangings with sea horses, flipflops, and other items, and even had a flock of flamingos in the front yard—at Christmastime, they lit up.

  “You did a great job, Mom, and it smells delicious.”

  “Of course it does. Today we celebrate. I’m so happy you’re home.”

  Even though Eisley wouldn’t expect or even let her mother wash her laundry, she was happy she didn’t have to lug her bags of dirty clothes and linens to the laundromat then leave with them damp because she wanted to save her quarters for the parking meter. She also duct taped the monitor of her laptop to the keyboard and scrimped in countless other ways like using cinderblocks and a wooden plank for her bookshelf—but she sold her books when her landlord raised the rent. The job market was tough and Eisley did her best.

  “You didn’t bring much,” Diana noted.

  “I left a lot of my belongings behind. I’m ready for a fresh start.” She took a deep breath and was also happy because the house already felt like home. She gave her mom another hug.

  “I know the last few years have been tough on you. You tried hard, honey. You really did.”

  Eisley struggled to smile and then made a dash for the kitchen. “I’m ready to eat.”

  As they plated up lunch, which was more like a meal fit for a holiday or at least a crowd of six or more, Diana talked a bit about the house and town. “Blue Bay Beach is the best-kept secret on the Florida coast.”

  “How’d you find out about it?” Eisley asked.

  “Kismet.”

  “Kismet?” Eisley repeated.

  “Fate,” Diana said. She got up from the table and then pulled an envelope from a basket next to what was clearly her spot on the couch. “About fifteen years ago I got this letter.” She passed it to Eisley.

  The paper was yellowed and it had the classic blue and red airmail stripes around the edge.

  “Go ahead. Open it. I guess it got lost in transit. But it eventually found me and I found Blue Bay Beach.”

  Eisley read the letter, written to her mother in a man’s blocky handwriting. It told how much he missed her and outlined a fantasy life he promised her in Blue Bay Beach. We’ll have a little cottage on the beach with a hammock. The baby can run around with bare feet. We’ll watch the sunset every night. Tears filled Eisley’s eyes. It was signed from her father Bob aka Robert Eisele Higgins.

  “They never found him, but somehow he found me.” Diana clapped her hands.

  “And you found Blue Bay Beach.” Unnamed emotions flowed through Eisley that felt like a strange mixture of sadness and happiness.

  Eisley’s mother nodded. “It’s not on the map. I actually drove around for four days before I found it.” Diana chuckled. “But it was worth it and a very good thing I saved every penny I ever earned because it’s not cheap, but I own this house. It’s also yours. Part of your father’s brave legacy. He’d be so proud of you, Eisley.”

  The tears dissolved and she squished up her face. “Mom, I’m barely getting by.” The confession, the truth, made her squirm inside.

  The women squeezed hands. “Good thing I got you a job.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I put in a good word. Actually, the interview is this afternoon. Go get freshened up and I’ll show you into town.” Diana stopped as she passed the calendar while clearing the dishes. “Oh, drat. I forgot. I have a canasta game this afternoon with the girls. Parking is scarce in town. During one of our games, I won a bicycle from Mavis down the street. Although I’d have paid good money to see her ride the thing.” She chuckled. “It was just collecting rust in her shed.”

  Eisley processed everything her mother said while she helped clean up. While she was appreciative, her mother was always overly-involved. If Eisley ever had kids, she’d take a slightly less hands-on approach. She’d let them figure things out for themselves. Then again, she’d probably never have kids so it didn’t matter. Her financial life was in shambles and her love life was non-existent. Not that she was looking—for multiple reasons. She definitely needed to get her money affairs in order first and foremost then find herself and figure out what to do with her life.

  As Eisley peddled toward town on the coral-colored beach cruiser complete with a basket in the front, she passed a broad beach where people played volleyball and a few kids yelled as they jumped in the gentle waves. Others built sandcastles and one flew a kite.

  A dock stretched into the water in the distance with a sign that said Coconut Cove Café. A few colorful boats were tied to it. Eisley peddled in that direction. She passed several quaint shops and realized her mother had found her people, her tribe of beach-loving enthusiasts. It seemed everyone decorated with seashells, driftwood, and umbrellas. It was the perfect beach town with hardly any traffic, powder white sand, palms swaying in the breeze, and blue sky and water for miles.

  “Wow,” she whispered as she parked the bike at the end of the dock.

  The scent of coconut and bread met her nose as she entered the café at the end of the dock. Windows opened to the ocean on three sides. Exposed wooden beams supported a thatched roof. On the left, a long counter with seats ran parallel to the dock and the tables were on the right side of the restaurant and opened to a patio for outdoor dining. The place was moderately busy with people who looked like locals as well as visitors dressed in Hawaiian style shirts, but the vibe was relaxed. That may have something to do with the oldies music tinkling in the background.

  A gorgeous woman, gorgeous with a capital G, stood by the register. Eisley couldn’t help but stare. She wasn’t convinced she was really in a Florida town. It must’ve actually been a movie set. The woman bit her lip and gazed at her phone then exhaled.

  “Are you here for the interview?” a voice called from behind her.

  Both the gorgeous woman and Eisley spun around.

  Another woman with blond hair piled high on her head in a messy bun jotted something down on her pad as she approached. She had sharp but tired eyes and a black apron was tied around her waist. “I’m Billie. I own this place and am looking for summer help. Is that the two of you?”

  Both the gorgeous woman and Eisley started to answer at the same time.

  Billie held up her hands to stop them with the kind of command reserved for military generals. “Do you speak English?” she asked.

  They both nodded then said, “Yes,” in unison.

  “Are you literate?”

  Again, they both nodded.

  “What’s the greatest movie of all time?” Billie asked.

  “Mamma Mia,” Eisley said.

  “The Summer House,” Gorgeous answered.

  Billie shrugged. “That’ll do. You’re hired. Can you start now? Betty is here today and she can show you the ropes.” She didn’t wait for an answer but went to the kitchen window and slid a slip on the counter, slapped it, and called, “Order in.”

  “Don’t you want to know about my last job?” Eisley asked, hurrying after Billie.

  “I have my references and resume here for you,” Gorgeous said, holding out a folder.

  “Have you ever waited tables?” Billie asked them.

  Eisley and Gorgeous turned to each other. “No.”

  “But I’ve worked in retail, sold Scooters, did landscaping, held numerous office jobs, and I served ice cream for three summers while I was in high school.” Eisley listed just some of her previous jobs.

  “Ding, ding, ding. You’re in.” Billie pointed at Eisley then strode across the dining room to a table full of customers.

  A hand gripped Eisley’s arm. She glanced back. An older woman who just barely reached Eisley’s shoulder looked up at her and then at Gorgeous. Her white hair was pulled back in a clip and bangs skimmed her eyebrows. Her skin was deeply tan and the lines in her face indicated she’d spent many summers at Blue Bay Beach.

  “I’m Betty. Don’t m
ind Billie. She’s busy. I’ll help you get started.”

  At that, Betty showed them around the restaurant. “Don’t be late. Do be polite. The customer is always right except when they’re wrong. We pool tips and you get one free meal per shift,” Betty said matter of fact.

  Two hours later, they prepared for the dinner rush.

  Gorgeous turned out to be a woman named Claudia who’d just moved to town from San Francisco. They were each assigned a section of the dining room and dove right in.

  Betty was more helpful than Billie, but both clearly believed in trial by fire.

  Eisley managed to only get two orders mixed up.

  Claudia forgot to put one order in, but the cooks were kind, forgiving, and quick to prepare the missing meal.

  During a lull, Betty said, “Okay, time for initiation.

  “Wait? Wasn’t—” Eisley didn’t say more when Billie approached. She’d thought getting thrown into waiting tables right away was the trial, but maybe they were going to throw them into the water below the dock. Even with the sea breeze, it was hot after rushing around the dining room all evening and she wouldn’t mind taking a swim.

  “I don’t think Mr. Fisher would approve of your so-called initiation, Betty,” Billie said sternly.

  “If you’re talking about the former owner? He’s dead,” Betty said and arched an eyebrow in Billie’s direction.

  Claudia flinched.

  “May he rest in peace.” Betty folded her hands and bowed slightly.

  “I think Billie meant her fiancé or husband,” Claudia said, pointing at the ring on Billie’s finger.

  Betty squawked a laugh. “Fiancé? Husband? He doesn’t exist.” Betty glared at the ring on Billie’s finger.

  She rolled her eyes. “I wear it so no one asks me out. Believe me, half the guys who come in here aren’t worth it.”

  “What about the other half?” Claudia asked.

  “Are you both single?” Betty asked. “We know Billie is.”