That just didn’t make sense, not since updating the place would most likely increase their business and therefore their profit. No one could run a successful business for as long as the Tanners had with such a limited vision. “Is that what they said?”
Shelby’s mouth twisted, but she didn’t answer.
To clarify his suspicions, he asked, “You have talked to them about this, right?”
Shelby squirmed. “Not exactly.”
“Why not? You’re the one running this place. Part of being a manager is managing things. Long-term planning and improvements are even more important when you’re the one who will take over someday.”
“I really don’t need you to lecture me on how to do my job,” she snapped.
“I’m not. I just want to know why you’re not actually doing it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re paid to run the marina. Like I said, this would fall under your purview. It would be one thing if you’d pitched your ideas and been shot down, but you’re saying you haven’t even broached the topic.”
“If they wanted to change this place, they would have already,” she argued, definitely a little exasperated. “Therefore, I must assume they like it as it is. The marina turns a profit and serves its purpose as is, so who am I to go and tell my parents that what they’ve done isn’t good enough? I’m supposed to tell them that I know better than they do? That I know better than my grandfather? It seems disrespectful.”
“It’s not an insult to be offered ways to improve and modernize your business.”
“They’re not going to want to fix something that isn’t actually broken, and there’s so much history here that I don’t think ‘modernization’ is the magic word you think it is.”
“Wait. Which is it?”
“Which is what?”
“Which one is the problem?” She gave him a confused look. “Is it the money? The fact it belongs to your parents? The fact it’s ‘not broken’? You’ve given me five different excuses, and I don’t understand which one is the actual speed bump.”
“That’s because it’s all one big problem. It’s all tangled up together. I can’t just pull on one string and unravel it.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“So you haven’t said anything at all. How do you know for sure that any of these so-called problems are actually barriers?”
“I know my family.”
He would not claim to have encyclopedic knowledge of the Tanner family, but it was impossible to be in Magnolia Beach for any amount of time and not learn something about them. Even he knew the family was successful, owning several businesses around town and a swath of rental properties. There was at least one doctor, lawyer, and CPA; the current and a couple of former mayors were Tanners. The family as a whole was well liked and heavily involved in the community. He could attest firsthand to their tight-knit familial bonds. There was absolutely no evidence that they were not the almost perfect, disturbingly well-adjusted, and functional family they appeared to be.
And Shelby, by her own admission, was a bit of an outlier. The only girl in a generation of boys. The one people thought wasn’t all that bright. The one who had a history of impulsiveness and disorganization.
Which meant when Shelby said she still needed to prove herself to people, “people” included—and might actually outright mean—“family.”
“I think I understand.”
“Good. Let’s move on.”
Granted, he didn’t have a whole lot to go on, but he couldn’t believe that her family honestly thought she was incompetent or silly. He had to be careful, though. He couldn’t bad-mouth her family—no matter how irritated Shelby might be with them, he doubted he’d get away with insulting them. And he couldn’t—in fairness, at least—stir up a bunch of shit she’d have to deal with long after he was gone.
At the same time, he couldn’t say nothing at all.
He took hold of her hand. “I know you’re more than capable. And believe it or not, I think your family knows that, too. Deep down, at least. They let you run this place, don’t they? That means they have to have some faith in your abilities, even if, out of habit, they act like they don’t. How are people supposed to know about the good ideas in your head if you don’t tell them?” Risking her wrath, he reached beside her to fish the sketchbook back out. Her lips thinned out, but she didn’t stop him, so he flipped through a few more pages. In addition to spiffing up the exterior, it looked like Shelby wanted to add a café of some sort with outdoor seating. There weren’t any written notes outlining her ideas, which would have helped make sense of this, but then he wanted to smack himself; of course Shelby wouldn’t jot down notes, but the pictures she drew were enough to give him the gist.
She had a great sense of space and ways to use it. He didn’t necessarily know enough about the day-to-day business of the marina to know if it was the best use of the space, but it seemed well thought out, and he trusted her to know what she needed.
Function took priority over form, but her ideas were simple, clean, and attractive. Unless she was willing to raze the place, she couldn’t implement them wholesale, but her plans could be tweaked to work with what already existed.
He didn’t know how long they’d been sitting there, but he’d looked through almost all of Shelby’s pages without a peep from her. He looked up to see that Shelby wasn’t watching him, instead using the time to carefully inspect her cuticles. It wasn’t until he closed the book that she finally looked up.
“You have great ideas.”
When he saw the start of a smile, he realized how nervous she’d been to hear his opinion. “Really?”
“Definitely.”
“Wow. I didn’t know.” A slow smile spread across her face. “I always figured I was sketching some kind of architectural unicorn.”
“I’m not saying it could be exactly what you have here—there are space and budget restrictions no matter who you are—but you could have something close. Something you’d enjoy and be proud of.”
“Thank you. Your opinion—especially considering what you do—means a lot to me.”
“Did you and Jamie run the numbers already? Do you know . . .” He trailed off as Shelby shook her head.
“I haven’t said anything to Jamie. Or anyone else, for that matter. Not even Charlotte.” She half laughed softly. “You’re the first to see any of this.”
However accidentally or strong-armed it had been. He was still flattered, honored even, to be the first. “You should get some estimates, put your case together, and then start talking to your family. No matter how they act sometimes, facts and figures and a plan are the best way to sway people to your side.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Well, you don’t have anything to lose, do you? Worst-case scenario is that your parents will veto the idea outright. Then you’ll just go back to what was obviously your Plan A—waiting until it’s actually yours and doing it anyway.”
“But Jamie—”
“You will not convince me that you’ll be unable to get Jamie on board. If facts and figures don’t work, you’ll annoy him until he agrees just to get you to shut up about it.”
Shelby laughed. “True. Sad, but true.”
“You say you need to prove yourself to people. Well, here’s one way. Bring the Bay Breeze Marina into this century and make it a better, more profitable business.”
She ran her hands over the sketchbook. “It won’t be easy.”
“Nothing ever is. But I’m sure you can do it.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss. It was just intended to be a punctuation mark to his statement, but Shelby returned the kiss with an enthusiasm that obviously forgave him for his snooping and meddling.
When the kiss finally broke, she lifted an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were an architec
t, not a life coach.”
“I’m multitalented, don’t you know?” He attempted a leer, but realized it had failed when Shelby giggled. Fully intending to prove it to her, he crawled up beside her on the bed, only to be stopped short when Shelby dropped her sketchbook back into his lap and flipped open to the page that had the Victorian and neo-Mediterranean buildings side by side.
“I like the Mediterranean the best, too, but the cost of and upkeep of stucco scares me a little.” Shelby seemed excited about the topic now, pretty much ignoring the hand he had caressing her knee. “And while you’re right that there’s a lot of Victorian on the beach already, maybe it would be more fitting to the overall ‘look’ if I went that way. Plus, the siding is much easier to keep up . . .”
He sighed, removing his hand from her knee, and resigned himself to the discussion. He’d started it, after all. He had no one to blame but himself.
* * *
More than anything, Shelby hated running errands. Running errands in the pouring rain was even worse. Dodging in and out of buildings, getting progressively wetter . . . her mood was pretty foul. But she’d put off so many things recently that her to-do list simply could not be ignored any longer. She blamed her hormones; they were definitely running the show. Instead of running errands yesterday while the sun was shining, she and Declan had taken the Lady Jane out again. Ostensibly for another “lesson” for Declan, but in reality . . . well, it hadn’t been a very thorough lesson, unless showing Declan how to drop anchor in a secluded spot to have sex on the deck could be considered imparting important boating knowledge.
In her defense, though, the days were getting cooler, and pretty soon outdoor nakedness would be out of the question. Yesterday had been downright chilly, but they’d persevered. And since Mother Nature seemed to have been watching the calendar, sending the temperatures diving into the sixties as soon as the Halloween festivities were over, a girl had to take the opportunities that she could when they presented themselves.
Since she’d slacked off yesterday, she sucked it up today and dashed into the pharmacy to pick up her medications. She also needed condoms, but that errand had been given to Declan—with the instruction that he go outside the city limits, where no one knew who he was, in order to buy them. Neither one of them could purchase them in town without word spreading, and while she could deal with the speculative assumptions she probably was sleeping with him, there was no way she’d provide the confirmation, too.
In her Jeep, she had Siri read her the list. Her meds—check. Cupid’s meds—check. Jamie’s office—check. Bank—check. Post office—check. Lunch with Gran—check. She still needed to go to the grocery store, but with all that productiveness under her belt already, she decided she’d earned a cup of coffee and a cake pop from Latte Dah.
Plus, the coffee would warm her up. Hello, fall.
Molly always ran a rainy day special at Latte Dah with games and such, and in the height of the season, the shop would be overrun right now with people. Today, though, it was active, but not too busy. Inside the door, Shelby wiped her feet and shook the worst of the rain off onto the mat with Latte Dah’s logo. Molly, bless her forethought, had a stack of small hand towels on the table beside the door, and Shelby grabbed one to wipe the moisture off her arms and shoulders.
Molly was behind the counter rinsing out the metal pitchers she steamed milk in, but she smiled and waved Shelby in. “Hi, there! I’m surprised to see you out in this weather.”
“So am I. But I had to run errands.” She settled onto one of Molly’s stools.
“Without a raincoat?” Molly scolded gently.
“You sound like my grandmother.”
“Only because half the people in this town refuse to acknowledge the existence of rain and wander around in downpours like frogs in search of a pond.”
“Rain, rain, go away,” Shelby singsonged as Molly filled a mug and set it in front of her.
“So how are you? I haven’t seen you around much lately.”
“I’m good. I’ve just been busy.”
Molly’s lips twitched almost into a smile. “Really, now? Busy doing what?” It was so innocently said and Molly looked like a sweet little angel, but the meaning was very clear.
“I am enjoying getting to know a new friend.”
Molly grinned. “I’m glad to hear it. He seems nice. And he’s really cute, too.”
Molly was engaged to Tate Harris, the town vet and the brother of one of her employees. What was it with engaged women and their need to drool over Declan? “He is,” she answered. “Both nice and very cute.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun, then. Excuse me a second,” she said as another customer came up to the counter. Any conversation with Molly at Latte Dah had to be carried on in bits and pieces. Everyone was pretty much used to it, and Shelby was not one to stand between anyone and their caffeine fix. Hell, that’s why she offered coffee to everyone who wandered into her office before noon.
Which brought her back to her daydreams about the marina. While neither she nor Declan had really brought it up much after the other night, it kept popping into her head—far more than it used to. Just hearing Declan say that her ideas weren’t crazy—and were, in fact, even possible—had sparked something inside her. They might still just be pipe dreams, but they were now pipe dreams with the blessing of an actual architect.
And just telling Declan about them . . . well, that had been quite the experience. She’d been mortified that he found her book, but his enthusiasm about her ideas had been quite the ego boost. She’d never told anyone about them—not even Charlotte, who knew she wanted to make some changes, but not the extent or the fact that she had a scrapbooked obsession to rival some girls’ Pinterest wedding boards.
And while he didn’t sugarcoat the reality of her ideas—the expense, the disruptions it would cause, the hassles it would create—he also provided great feedback and ideas of his own, allowing her to tweak and refine her ideas.
And never once did he try to dismiss the idea or treat her like she was crazy to even think about it. It gave her confidence in her ideas and something to look forward to.
Everyone had to start somewhere, right? Hell, Molly had moved here knowing no one, and started Latte Dah. At some point that had to have seemed like a crazy dream, too, but Latte Dah was awesome and successful.
“Did you want a snack, Shelby?” Molly was back, drying her hands on a towel.
She did, but not right at this second. “No thanks. Can I ask you a question, though?” She hurried ahead before she could chicken out.
“Of course.” Molly leaned on her elbows.
“I was just wondering . . . How much did it cost you to open Latte Dah?”
Molly’s eyebrows went up, and she blinked. “I wasn’t expecting that question.”
“I know that’s a little nosy of me—”
“No, that’s not it. I’d be happy to share numbers—even though I should warn you they might give you heart palpitations. I had seed money from my grandmother, and I still had to take out a loan from the SBA while scrounging every thrift shop and rummage sale in the county for furniture and coffee cups.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“I just had no idea you had any interest in a business outside the marina. Should I be worried about getting some competition?” she teased.
“No, not at all. I was just thinking that we might want to think about adding something like that at the marina. For the folks that are on that side of town or at the marina already. Maybe offer some simple food . . .” Jeez, this idea was sounding lamer by the second.
“You know, I’ve been thinking the same thing. Opening up another place over near the beach for the tourists. The rent over there is just too god-awful expensive for me to even contemplate. And there’s not a lot of open space anyway. I’ve looked. I’d have to open a shack direct
ly on the beach.”
“Yeah, it was just a thought.”
“Well, let me know if that idea ever gains any traction. We could talk about maybe partnering up.”
Shelby’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you serious? You’d consider putting a Latte Dah outpost in at the marina?”
“Yeah. Totally. It’s not right on the beach, but I know y’all get a ton of traffic through there during the season. And since it’ll take me forever to save up the money to open something on my own, finding a partner—especially one with real estate already—would be a major plus.”
Maybe it’s not so crazy after all. “Like I said, it’s just an idea, but I’ll keep that in mind. Can I get a couple of cake pops and that coffee to go?”
“Sure thing. And tonight or tomorrow I’ll e-mail you some numbers to look at. It’ll give you an idea of what it takes.”
“Thanks, Molly.” More facts, more figures, more data. More bricks for the foundation of her plan. Well, it was still more of an idea than a plan, but that little residual thrill of “it’s not a totally crazy idea” vibrated through her again.
Regardless of what Declan said, she wasn’t ready to go running to her family with this scheme, but it was nice to roll it over in her head knowing that someone, other than herself, thought it had merit. Someone who didn’t actively balk the second she mentioned anything.
Someone who thought she might have the ability to pull it off.
And Molly had just blown her mind. Maybe she should spend more time with people who hadn’t known her for her entire life. Molly had only been in town for maybe three years, so she didn’t have the same low expectations as other people—as clearly evidenced by her “sure, let’s talk about a coffee shop” attitude. It wasn’t a firm commitment or anything, of course, but still . . .
She might never really change people’s minds or expectations of her, but folks who had no reason to question her brain or abilities? That was kind of cool.
No wonder Declan encouraged her to move.
Not that she ever would, but she could understand the appeal.
More Than Anything Page 18
