Fortunate Harbor (Outer Banks #1)
CHAPTER 1
C HAPTER 1
T he Morehead City Hall was an awkward location for this meeting. As was how the mayor had scheduled the assembly for early afternoon. Rae Alden suspected both formed part of the mayor’s reasoning. Atlantic Beach would have better suited most of the attendees. But the locals who wanted to come and shout and argue, the same group who had been fighting against this act for two years, knew their attendance meant becoming mired in afternoon traffic. The mayors and county commissioners were all in favor of this new hotel resort, and specifically chose this venue to keep as many of their opponents as possible fuming at home. Yes indeed, Rae decided. This was absolutely the place to meet.
Just the same, the assembly hall was almost full. She had found a chair by the rear left corner and hoped no one would recognize her. Rae had no real reason to be here, other than she desperately needed a word with her uncle, the sheriff of Carteret County. And Colton Knox had told her in no uncertain terms that between handling spring breakers and preparing for this meeting, if her business couldn’t wait until Monday, then it had to be handled here.
Rae had hoped to arrive early, speak with Colton and then slip away. The last thing she wanted, the very last, was for someone in this group to recognize her. But her lunch meeting had dragged on, which had left her rushing across the bridge connecting Atlantic Beach to Morehead City with only seconds to spare.
Early in the locals’ futile quest to halt the Fortunate Harbor project, Rae had been hired to file a legal brief on the group’s behalf. Despite being in total sympathy with the locals and their objections, six weeks of digging into court records had revealed the utter futility of their protest, and Rae had backed out. She was still waiting to be paid for her time.
Then someone slipped into the chair next to her, and a voice said, “Rae Alden. As I live and breathe.”
She steeled herself for the acidic comment that was bound to follow. Then she looked over and saw the man behind the smile. “I don’t believe this.”
Curtis Gage looked exhausted. And as handsome as ever. “Been a while.”
“Twelve years.”
His smile was canted slightly, a look that took her straight back. When they had been young and desperately in love, Rae had always thought Curtis resembled a mischievous ocean sprite whenever he smiled. A surfing sand-encrusted sprite, eager for the next good time.
Not anymore.
Rae flashed back to their last meeting. The sunburnt kid still semibroken over the loss of his father, his mother remarried and taking him away from the only home he had ever known or wanted. They had clung together in the desperate embrace of teens in love. Both of them weeping. Saying farewell. Promising to stay in touch. No matter what.
Twelve years.
Rae asked, “Does Emma know you’re here?”
“That’s the next stop on my agenda.” He took in her rough silk slacks, sleeveless cotton top, gold watch, cork sandals, tan. “Wow, Rae, just look at you.”
She was thinking the same thing. Curtis Gage wore a GQ version of weekend casual: gabardine slacks, silk knit shirt, alligator belt, Italian loafers that looked so supple he could probably roll them up like socks. If he was carrying any excess flab, she could not see it. His perfectly styled hair still held to that same remarkable blend of blond and brown, but now there were also premature silver threads. Finely woven lines emanating from the edges of his eyes and mouth testified to time’s uncaring hand. If she had not known Curtis was twenty-nine, she would have guessed ten years older. The thought pierced her heart.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“My boss thought I should come and observe.”
“Don’t tell me you work for these people.”
“Not the resort. The parent company’s home office.” He must have seen the fiery spark in her gaze, and added, “Sorry.”
Before she could come up with a response, the mayor of Morehead City stepped to the podium, blew on the microphone, and said, “Let’s go ahead and get started.”