Maybe We Will (Silver Harbor)

by Melissa Foster

  “Okay, but just so you know, I wore your hat today, and I’m sleeping in one of your shirts.”

  His chest squeezed. “I love that. Take a picture and send it to me.”

  “I’ll do you one better and take a picture of what’s under the shirt,” she said seductively.

  “Baby, you do that and I’m on the next plane home.” Home? Where did that come from?

  “I’m stripping naked right now!” she said with a giggle.

  They talked until his plane was boarding. He felt rejuvenated by their call, but as he took his seat on the plane, a knot of longing lodged in his gut. His phone dinged with a text. He was careful to open it with the screen facing away from the guy next to him just in case Abby had gotten bold. But she’d sent something even better than a picture of her gorgeous body—a picture of her beautiful smiling face. A second picture popped up. Abby must have had Cait take it, because her back was facing the camera, his T-shirt hanging nearly to the backs of her knees. She had wrapped her arms around herself, and it looked like someone was embracing her. A third picture popped up of Abby facing the camera with her hand palm up in front of her puckered lips, blowing him a kiss. She looked so fucking sexy and sweet he wanted to crawl through the phone and devour her.

  A text message appeared. Now you can look into my eyes and pretend those are your arms around me. The rest will have to wait. She added a winking emoji.

  His heart squeezed as he thumbed out a response. I can’t wait to hold you. I’ve never felt this way before. I miss you more than words can express, Abs. He added a kissing emoji, laughing to himself. A fucking kissing emoji. Remi would have a field day with that one.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  BY WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, Abby felt like her father’s old boom box. She couldn’t tune in to any station except one—Aiden. And not for lack of trying. She’d been busy every minute.

  Rob Wicked and his sons Zeke and Zander had inspected the building and found a couple of minor issues with the roof and rotted wood in a few parts of the building. They’d also found a leak in the bathroom. It had taken them all day to complete most of the work and had set her back a pretty penny, but the peace of mind had been worth it. While they’d taken care of those issues, Abby had worked with Cait. They’d finalized a simple, classy logo, which they were both thrilled with. The Bistro was written in elegant ocean-blue font, with the tails of the T and B a textured sand color fading into gold at the tips. When they’d shown it to Deirdra, she’d been elated. While Cait set up the accounting, inventory, and scheduling software, Abby had gone through her father’s recipes, selecting her favorites for the menu. But her mind kept tracking back to Aiden, wondering if he’d think the lunches she was considering and the dinners she was testing were the best choices.

  The kitchen had been her safe haven, the place where the rest of the world faded away. But when she’d been testing recipes, her mind had been all over the place, and she’d burned one of the entrees like a novice. Even though she knew Aiden couldn’t text during his meetings, she’d checked her phone like an addict seeking her next fix. It was ridiculous. She never knew it was possible to miss someone so much, carrying out rote exercises became nearly impossible.

  Although that wasn’t exactly true.

  When her father died, she’d missed him like she’d lost a limb. She still kind of did. But missing Aiden was completely different, and ever since Sunday night, she and Aiden had been different, too. Their confessions had brought their relationship to a new level, a safer, more grounded place, where they didn’t hold back and single sentences spoke volumes. No one had warned her that falling for someone could create bone-deep longing when they were apart. His morning texts—Good morning, beautiful. Wish I was waking up beside you. I miss having coffee with my Runner Girl—and their brief phone calls made her miss him even more. He’d worried over her extra expenditures and offered again to help her out financially, which she’d thanked him for but turned down. When he’d called her from the airport last night before leaving Chicago for LA, he’d sounded tired and she could tell he was frustrated, but he’d still managed to be attentive and interested in hearing everything she had to say. She didn’t know if his frustration was caused by work or by them being apart, but she had a feeling it was both, because she was experiencing the same thing.

  Cait poked her head into the office, startling Abby. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but the guys have finished the repairs.”

  “You’re not interrupting.” Abby pushed to her feet and waved toward the recipes she’d jotted down, which consisted of about a third of the number they needed. “I swear my brain is a sieve this week. Did they find any other issues?”

  “No, but they want to talk with us about the window installation.”

  “That’s good news,” she said as they left the office.

  “I have more good news. I think I have the staffing schedule worked out using your specifications, but shouldn’t you start thinking about putting ads online to find people before the season starts?”

  “I already put an ad on the Silver Island community Facebook page. There are always college kids looking for summer jobs. We should be fine. The cook is going to be the hardest person to find.”

  As they walked through the restaurant, Abby was struck by how much it had changed since they’d started working on it. She could open it as it was if need be. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it was clean, with gleaming floors and pretty wooden tables, and once the interior was painted it would look even better. It was missing the elegance of the fancy lights of love, but one day—maybe next summer if the restaurant did well—she’d hunt down lights just like the ones her father had used and splurge on them.

  Rob Wicked and his sons were a sight to be reckoned with, with their colorful tattoos, shockingly bright blue eyes, and dark hair—Rob’s speckled with silver, like his beard.

  “There’s Caity Cat and her sexy sister,” Zander said with a wink. He was as much of a flirt as Wells.

  Rob shut him down with a cool it look.

  “Why did I suggest we hire you again?” Cait asked, but she was smiling, not annoyed.

  Abby had immediately noticed the difference in Cait’s interactions with the Wickeds compared with the way she was around most everyone else when Cait had allowed Rob to drape his arm over her shoulder as he asked after her. She’d spent a long time talking with Zeke about his volunteering and tutoring at a community center, and she’d asked him to check on Aria, the girl she’d mentioned working with at Wicked Ink, and she gave Zander as much guff as he gave her. At first all of Zander’s flirting had made Abby think there might be an attraction between him and Cait, but Cait had made it clear that it was sibling-like affection and nothing more.

  Zander flashed an arrogant grin and said, “Because you missed me? You needed some eye candy? You wanted your sister to meet me?”

  “More like, your father and Zeke come as a package deal with Cocky McFlirt, and dealing with your mouth is worth the hassle to get a quality job done,” Cait retorted.

  “I knew you liked my mouth, Caity Cat.” Zander blew her a kiss.

  “Zan,” Zeke warned, and Zander chuckled.

  Abby got a kick out of the way Zeke, with his crow-black hair and low-key personality, was continually reining in Zander.

  Rob motioned toward the side patio and said, “Abby, I asked Cait to bring you out so we could discuss the ordering window. I have a few suggestions. We have restaurants with walk-up windows on the Cape, and I think you stand to lose money with just a walk-up window during the high season. There are too many rainy, cold, windy days, when people aren’t on the beach. They might love your food, but standing in the driving rain to order and pick up lunch and sprinting to the car won’t be as appealing as ordering from an indoor counter, where they can then sit at a table and enjoy their meal.”

  “Are you thinking we should build a shelter around the window or screen in the patio? Because I don’t really want to screen anything in,”
Abby said.

  “No. An awning over the window as we discussed will be fine. But inside the restaurant you have that counter area outside the kitchen, which is a perfect place for indoor ordering. I think we should replace the countertop, clean up the cabinets, and break through the wall to the kitchen to create a pass-through. That would allow for easier ordering and serving of food and provide shelter during inclement weather. And if you go that route, then I have another suggestion. I know you had your heart set on the window being installed here.” He pointed to the area closest to the water on the side of the building. “But logistically, if you shift it toward the parking lot so it’s in line with the inside counter area, your staff won’t have to run back to the kitchen to pick up the food.”

  “That makes sense. I can’t believe we didn’t think about that.”

  “With all due respect, you’re a chef, not a builder. From a consumer point of view, the closer to the beach, the better. But from an efficiency standpoint, the continuity of flow makes more sense.”

  “I wasn’t planning on redoing the counter, but roughly how much would it cost to open up that wall and replace the counter?” Abby asked.

  He glanced at Cait with a brief but clearly paternal expression and said, “You’re Cait’s family, which makes you our family. We can get it done for the cost of materials. The bottom line will depend on the materials you choose. Laminate is a lot cheaper than granite or marble, but it’s all about the image you want for the restaurant. It could run a few thousand up to eight or ten grand. My brother is in the restaurant business, and based on his experience, with your setup here on the beach, I think you’d get a high rate of return on your investment. You mentioned you have friends helping you paint and power wash tomorrow. I’ve made a few calls, in case you decide to go this route. If you go with marble or granite, Justin and Blaine have a selection on hand that they can bring over today. But that decision should be made soon.”

  “How long will it take to do the work?”

  “If you don’t mind us working late tonight, and if need be, early tomorrow morning, we can get it done before you paint. Why don’t we give you and Cait a few minutes to talk it over?” Rob nodded in the direction of the parking lot and said, “Let’s go, boys.”

  When they were out of earshot, Abby said, “What do you think?”

  “I think it makes sense to do it, but as far as going with a cheaper or more expensive product, I don’t know. I’ve never owned a restaurant, and I don’t know much about the island economy or what you can expect to earn. All of that is in your hands.”

  Abby walked into the restaurant and said, “How do you think it would look with the pass-through? Would that make it look cheap? People would see the kitchen staff.”

  “I think they can make it pretty enough that it won’t detract from the restaurant during dinner hours. And there’s something nice about seeing your food cooking. Tank took all of his employees to a fancy Italian restaurant last year, and we could see the kitchen staff through the bar area. It didn’t take away from the elegance at all.”

  “That’s good to know. I guess we wouldn’t have to keep both the counter and the window open at all times, because that would mean more staff and more overhead. But it would give us options, like Rob said. I think it does make sense, and if we’re going to do it, we might as well do it right, with a nice marble or granite countertop. I like stainless steel in the kitchen, but it’s too cold for customers to see. I wish Aiden were here to give us his opinion.” As the words left her lips, she realized what she’d said and cringed. “When did I start needing a man’s opinion to make my own decisions?”

  “I hardly call wanting to get the opinion of someone you trust needing it to move forward.”

  “But the fact that I want it is almost the same thing.”

  Cait was shaking her head. “You want his opinion because you trust him, and honestly, I think you should trust him. He hasn’t steered us wrong yet, and there’s no doubt he has a wealth of knowledge about business and finance.” Her expression softened, and she said, “But I understand where you’re coming from. I didn’t trust anyone for so long, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to. But I’ve learned that there’s nothing wrong with valuing the opinion of someone you trust. Especially your boyfriend’s, since you trust him with your body and your heart, which are way more important than a restaurant.”

  “You’re right, and intellectually I know that. It just feels weird after all these years to have my thoughts turn to someone else for critical decisions. It was the same way yesterday when I was working on the menu. I kept wondering what he’d think about my choices. I know how close Aiden and I have gotten, but I guess I hadn’t realized how much a part of this restaurant he’d become, too.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No, but it’s a little shocking. I’ve been independent forever, and we just sort of happened. Do you have anyone like that in your life?”

  “I never did until I met Tank. But he didn’t give me a choice. He has a way of weaseling into people’s lives and getting them to open up. To be honest, I called Tank before I called Rob and Justin about doing the work here, and I trust Rob and Justin with my life. But my thoughts went to Tank first because he’s that person for me.”

  “He must be very special. Is there something going on between you two?”

  “Not romantically. But Tank is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend.” Cait kicked at a mark on the floor with the toe of her peach Converse and said, “But now I feel like I can trust you and Deirdra, too.”

  “You can, and I feel the same way about you.” Abby took a deep breath and said, “Relationship revelations are scary. Thanks for reminding me that that’s normal. Let’s go tell the guys we want to do both the counter and the window.”

  “What about Aiden’s opinion? Do you want to text him first?”

  “My wise big sister pointed out that there’s a difference between want and need. I want to get his opinion, but I don’t need it to move forward, whereas I need him naked in my bed again before I lose my mind, which I realize also qualifies as a want. See? I know the difference.”

  As Aiden boarded the eleven-thirty flight from LA to Boston, he wondered how he’d ever thought a life consumed with work had been a life at all. The work hadn’t changed. Though road shows weren’t his favorite thing, strategizing and the competitive environment had always lit his brain on fire, adding to his drive to take over more companies, to help others succeed, and to carry on his father’s legacy with the highest level of integrity. But every minute of the last three days he’d spent helping George and Damon raise capital, he’d wanted to be back on Silver Island, helping the woman he was falling hard for make her dreams come true. He’d never put anyone above work besides Remi. He’d never slighted a client, and though he’d never been very involved with a woman, he’d thought himself to be a gentleman, couth enough never to slight a woman.

  But here he was, taking a seat beside George Pennington, feeling like hell because Remi hadn’t spoken to him since he’d called her Monday morning to let her know where he was, and any way he looked at it, he’d slighted Abby. He’d chosen work over her. She’d texted him pictures of the renovations being done at the restaurant today, and it only made him wish he’d been there even more. She was perfectly capable of overseeing the work, but he’d have loved to be there to see and feel her excitement as the changes came to fruition.

  George put on his seat belt and rested his head back with a sigh. “I’m getting too old for this.” He was in his early seventies, with snow-white hair, kind dark eyes, and the best business sense of just about any man Aiden knew.

  I’m getting too smart for it.

  George’s eyes opened and he said, “I want to thank you for joining us at the last minute.”

  “No need to thank me. I’m always here for you—you know that.”

  “I do, and you’ve proved it many times over. I knew your father for a long time,
and I know how much you and your sister meant to him. He would be proud of both of you, Aiden, but what you did for your sister . . .” George nodded and said, “There are not many men like you, and I’m proud to be among your clients.”

  “Thank you, George. That means a lot to me,” he said, although he didn’t feel worthy of that praise after sweating out every minute, wishing he could leave. It was times like these that Aiden wished he could speak to his father again, to gain some of the fatherly advice he’d missed out on when he was younger.

  Aiden’s phone vibrated with a text. He pulled it out, hoping it was Abby. He’d texted her before boarding, but she and Cait had stayed late at the restaurant, until after the Wickeds had left, and painted the wall Cait was going to use for the mural. He was sure she’d already turned in for the night.

  Remi’s name appeared in the message. He opened it, and a picture of Remi scowling, eyes narrowed, arms crossed, stared back at him with the message I’m still not speaking to you.

  George glanced at the phone. “Oh boy, kiddo. It looks like you’ve upset the applecart with your sister.”

  With myself, too. “She’s not pleased about a business decision I made.”

  “She’s questioning your choices.” George laughed incredulously. “You’re the smartest businessman I know. A real chip off the old block.”

  Maybe that was the issue. He’d paid all of his attention to the way his father had handled business, but he’d failed to pay as close attention to the way his father had navigated the crossing of paths between work and his personal life. Aiden the businessman was exactly where he needed to be, but Aiden the man, Aiden the boyfriend, wanted to get the hell out of there and see his girl. “This is one of those times it would be nice to have my old man to lean on.”

  “I’ve got a pretty good shoulder. You’re welcome to take it for a spin.”

  He trusted George, and so had his father, so he gave it a shot, keeping it in the realm of business. “Have you ever wanted a deal so badly, you were willing to risk everything for it, even if it’s completely different from anything you’ve ever done? New, uncharted territory, with an overwhelming amount of room for errors? So much room that you weren’t sure you wouldn’t fuck it up?”