Chapter 11
11
PORTIA
A fter lunch, I returned to Alexis’s shop with a lot to think about. My father’s words were still ringing in my ears. I couldn’t shake the mix of emotions they’d stirred up. On one hand, he’d been honest with me—brutally so. Selling real estate in a small town like Larkspur Lake wasn’t easy. There wasn’t much turnover, and the market was competitive. But on the other hand, he’d seemed so excited, so proud of me for even considering it.
When I was younger, he used to always talk about us going into business together. I was the one that balked at the idea. My naivety and need to carve my own path had led me to New York. At the time, my dad had encouraged me to go for it. He was being a supportive father, but I was pretty sure he knew exactly how things were going to turn out.
But now that I was back, it was like he believed in me more than I believed in myself. I almost felt like I had to try, if only to prove to him I wasn’t a complete failure. Or to prove it to myself.
Alexis was at the counter when I walked in, sorting through a stack of fabric swatches.
“How’d it go?” she asked, setting the swatches aside.
I sighed, dropping my bag onto the counter. “Good. It’s nice to be around them again.”
Alexis tilted her head, studying me. “But?”
I hesitated, then shrugged. “But I don’t know. It’s like they’re happy I’m back, but at the same time, they’re treating me with kid gloves. Like they’re waiting for me to fall apart or something.”
“They’re your parents, Portia,” she said gently. “They’re probably just worried about you. You went through a lot in New York.”
“I know, I know,” I replied. “But I don’t want to be coddled. I want to move on. I want to prove that I can still make something of myself. I just don’t know what that is.”
Alexis smiled. “You will. You’re already on the right track. Did you tell your dad you’re thinking about trying the real estate thing here?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“He of course wants to be my mentor, work together and stuff.”
Alexis raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And I don’t know,” I admitted with a sigh.
“You think it’s not the same thing as doing it all on your own?”
“Kind of. I feel like I’m eighteen again. Like I lost all that I worked for. I’m right back to square one.”
“Not square one,” she corrected. “You have experience. In life and real estate.”
“I mean, it’s one thing to say I want to try. It’s another thing to actually do it. What if I fail again?”
Alexis tilted her head to the side, studying me. “What if you don’t?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, the bell above the door jingled again. I turned, expecting to see a customer, but instead, I found myself face-to-face with an old family friend—someone I hadn’t seen in years.
“Portia,” he said, his voice warm but with a hint of something I couldn’t quite place. “It’s good to see you.”
“Mr. Harper,” I said, forcing a polite smile. “What brings you here?”
He stepped further into the shop, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t look like he was in the shop for hemming or any other tailor needs. Something felt off.
He looked at Alexis and smiled and then looked back at me. “I heard you were back in town, and I wanted to reach out. Your father’s been a good friend to me over the years, and I thought… well, I thought I’d see if you were interested in a job.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “A job?”
He nodded. “At my real estate brokerage. We’re looking for a receptionist, and I thought it might be a good fit for you. Something to keep you occupied while you figure things out.”
I clenched my jaw, my stomach twisting. A receptionist job. At his brokerage. It was everything I didn’t want—a safe, predictable position. It was pity, dressed up as an opportunity. I wasn’t a receptionist. I was a realtor. It was insulting. Even if it was meant to be kind.
“That’s nice of you,” I said with a forced smile. “But I’m not sure that’s the right fit for me. I really appreciate the thought, though.”
He waved a hand, brushing off my hesitation. “Think about it. It’s a steady paycheck, and it’ll give you a chance to get your feet wet in the industry. North Carolina is different than New York. You never know—it might lead to something more.”
I forced another smile, nodding as if I were considering it. But inside, I was seething. This wasn’t about helping me. This was about him feeling like he owed my father a favor.
“Thank you,” I said.
When he finally left, Alexis let out a low whistle. “Well, that was a whole lot of condescension.”
I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “Tell me about it.”
Alexis studied me. “You’re not taking it, are you?”
I shook my head. “Hell no.”
But the truth was, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had a decent nest egg that would cover my bills for about three more months, but that wasn’t much time, and I was stressing. I needed a plan. Needed a way to prove—to myself, to everyone else—that I wasn’t just some loser back in town with nothing.
And for some reason, my thoughts drifted to Dean. To the business he’d built, the work he did, the way he’d figured out how to make a living on his own terms. To the fact that, despite his best efforts, he kept ending up in my orbit.
Something shifted inside me. I didn’t need a safe job offer. I needed to make my own path. And I knew exactly where to start.
“I wish I could hire you here,” she said with a sigh. “I would pay you a thousand dollars an hour.”
I laughed. “If you’re making that kind of money, you’re taking me to Mexico for a two-week vacation.”
I grinned at Alexis, but my mind was already racing, the seed of an idea taking root. I wasn’t ready to talk about it. Not yet. It needed to marinate a bit.
“So, what do you need me to do?” I asked.
“Are you sure you want to hang out here?” she asked. “Don’t you want to enjoy the lake? You’re kind of on vacation.”
I considered what Alexis said about enjoying the lake. She was right—I was essentially on vacation. A forced one, but still.
“You know what? Maybe I will go enjoy the lake,” I said, grabbing my purse. “I’ve been cooped up too much. Maybe the fresh air will clear my head.”
Alexis beamed, clearly surprised I was actually going to take the suggestion. “Go get some sun. You’re looking a little pale from all that New York living.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Any chance you can play hooky?” I asked.
She scrunched up her nose. “I wish. I’ve got a couple of orders I need to get done.”
“I can help.”
“Sorry, but this is going to take some experience,” she said.
“I would hate to sew a sleeve to a crotch.”
She laughed. “That would be bad. And pretty hard to accomplish.”
“Do you remember Home Ec? Seventh grade I think it was.”
She burst into laughter. “Do you still have a scar?”
I held up my finger. “Right through the damn thing.”
“Mrs. Rosco nearly passed out,” Alexis said.
I chuckled at the memory. “She almost did. I think she thought she was going to have to explain to my parents why I’d sewn through my finger in her class. Honestly, it’s a miracle I didn’t pass out first.”
Alexis shook her head, still grinning. “You were always so determined, though. Even with a needle stuck in your finger, you finished that pillowcase.”
“Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And it looked like Frankenstein’s monster stitched it together.”
We both laughed before Alexis’s smile faded.
“You know, Portia, you’ve always been the kind of person who makes things happen. Even when it’s messy or hard. You’ll figure this out too.”
“Thanks, Alexis. I needed that reminder.”
She waved me off with a smile. “Now go enjoy the lake before I change my mind and make you sort through my fabric scraps.”
“Deal,” I said, grabbing my sunglasses and heading toward the door.
I stepped out of the shop, the sun warm on my face. The lake was calling. I was being negative. I understood that. I was lucky enough to have grown up in this place that so many paid a lot of money to visit. Yes, I could dwell on all the negatives about why I was here, or I could shift my way of thinking and appreciate everything the town had to offer. Like the lake.
I could use a little color. Manhattan didn’t offer a lot of opportunities to sunbathe. Between the clouds, smog, and the constant shade from the tall buildings, I didn’t get a lot of time in the sun.
I went back to the rental and dug out one of my bikinis. The dock was private, part of the property I was renting from. I may as well enjoy the perks the property offered.
I found a bikini and hoped it fit. I hadn’t worn it in at least a year. I put it on, pulled on the cover-up, and made myself an iced drink to take down to the dock.
It was a Thursday afternoon, which meant it wouldn’t be as crowded as the weekends when tourists and families descended en masse.
The dock was quiet, the only sound the gentle lapping of water against the wooden planks. I spread out my towel, setting my drink down beside me, and leaned back, letting the sun soak into my skin. For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of calm. The tension in my shoulders began to melt away. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth envelop me.
Okay, maybe I should have done this when I first showed up in town. It was making me hate it a lot less.
The sun was warm, the drink was cold, and for a moment, I let myself forget about the mess I’d left in New York. The weight of my failures, the sting of rejection—it all felt a little more distant out here. Maybe Alexis was right. Maybe I needed to stop fighting so hard and just breathe for a while.
But of course, my peace didn’t last long.
I heard the low rumble of an engine before I saw it—a sleek black motorcycle pulling into the driveway of the property next door. My stomach dropped as Dean Jackson swung his leg off the bike. He pulled off his helmet, his sharp blue eyes scanning the area before they landed on me. For a split second, he looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Then his expression hardened, and he gave me a curt nod before turning away.
I frowned as I watched him disappear into the house. Did he know the owner? Weird. That explained why he showed up the other day when the screen door was giving me trouble.
Whatever.
I considered packing up and heading back inside, but that felt too much like letting him win. I wasn’t going to let Dean Jackson ruin my perfectly good afternoon.