Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
Emelia
Glancing at the map on my Mercedes’s screen, I have about twenty minutes before I arrive in Echo Lake. It’s only about a four-hour drive from Boston, but I’m getting restless after being stuck in my car for so long. I’m used to being on the go, not sitting still.
The audiobook I was listening to just finished, so I call my cousin Trey. He left a message a few days ago that I haven’t returned.
“Hey Siri, call Trey Greene.”
My Bluetooth makes a tonal noise, then a woman’s voice sounds through the speakers. “Calling Trey Greene.”
The phone rings twice before he picks up.
“Oh, so you aren’t avoiding me.”
I chuckle. “Why would I be avoiding you?”
“Wasn’t sure, but it’s been three days.”
I cringe, keeping my eyes on the road. “I know, I’m sorry. I was finishing up a deal that took all my time and attention. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just hadn’t heard from you in a while, so I wanted to check in. I figured you were probably knee-deep in zoning applications or council meetings, but I’ll be honest, I was secretly hoping you were having some torrid love affair you were keeping from the family.”
I laugh. Not because a torrid love affair doesn’t sound amazing, but because Trey thinks I’d actually have time for one. “No love affair. Maybe in a couple of years.”
Now is my time to prove myself.
“All work and no play makes you boring, Emelia.”
“I’ve been in this job less than a year.”
“You have to make time for yourself. You’re only young once. Live by Great-Grandma Ethel’s rules.”
I huff and turn on my blinker to change lanes. “I will, and there will be time, but right now, I have to focus on securing the best deals and moving up in the company. Make a name for myself. I want this one to stick.”
He makes a yawning noise. “Always the go-getter.”
“You’re one to talk. Last I checked, you weren’t setting the dating world on fire.”
“I’m in Sunrise Bay. Options are limited.”
He’s got me there. Growing up in small-town Alaska was a wonderful experience, but the circles run small.
By the end of high school, everyone had dated practically all available prospects.
And when you come from a family as big as the Greenes, it means you’re related to a good portion of your classmates, further shrinking the pool.
“Well, you know, I have been trying to get you to join me in the lower forty-eight for some time now…”
He laughs with the sarcastic flare that says not a chance. “It still takes an effort to wrap my head around the fact that you didn’t return home after college.”
“Trey, don’t start.” I get enough from my parents.
My cousin, and most of my family, if I’m honest, don’t understand why I didn’t hop on a plane back to Alaska as soon as I graduated from college in Arizona.
My reasons are ones they may never understand since I grew up in a loving family with a great upbringing.
I glance in the rearview mirror, but then look forward, pulling off the highway.
“I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t. Anyway, how is everyone?”
“You know how it is. Nothing ever changes, and even if it does, it’s not by much.”
That’s part of what makes small-town life so sweet and so sour, depending on the kind of person you are. It’s the reason Trey is still there, and I am not.
“At the next stop sign, take a right.”
“Sorry, my GPS is giving me directions.” I slow at the approaching stop sign and put on my blinker.
“Where are you headed?”
“I’m on a new project for work. You’ll be happy to know it’s a small town.”
Trey laughs. “Did you get demoted?”
“No,” I say with the same attitude from when we were thirteen.
“I’m just saying what happened to your big city Boston projects?”
“For your information, I think this project is a good sign. It’s the first development of this kind the firm is looking at doing. They haven’t expanded to smaller locales like this one, and the fact that they’re trusting me with it says how awesome I am.”
“Ah, I was just kidding, Em. I know you’ll kill it.”
“Sorry, I know you didn’t mean anything by it.
” I don’t know why I feel so on edge right now.
“I am excited for it, though. I pitched myself for the job to my boss. After he heard about where I grew up, how Sunrise Bay was struggling for a bit when I was a teen, and how the local development committee turned it around, he said it was mine for the taking. I think he could tell I was passionate about the purpose of this one.”
Prior to this, I’ve been working my way through lower-level jobs like a code enforcement officer and a planning department clerk.
I never stayed anywhere for too long, bouncing from job to job, state to state.
Nothing ever felt right. This position is finally a chance at my dream job, and failing isn’t an option.
The firm is well known and one of the leading developers in the Northeast. My job at this firm will forever impact my job possibilities down the road.
I’m determined to make this job go the distance.
I’m used to having some nerves whenever I start a new project—there’s no telling how easy or difficult it’ll be until I’m already in it—but this feels like something…more. I just can’t put my finger on it.
My GPS interrupts us again. “Turn left at the next stop sign.”
I glance at the screen and see that I’m only about five minutes out. “I’m almost there, Trey. Is it okay if I give you a call in the next few days once I get settled?”
“Sure thing. You know I’ll be here.”
“All right. Say hi to everyone for me.”
“Hey, Em, you packed your calamine lotion, right?” He pauses dramatically, and I wait for his punchline. “You know, for the hives.”
“Ha ha.”
He chuckles, and hearing his voice and laughter only makes me miss him more. “Later, Em.”
He hangs up, and Sabrina Carpenter’s voice rings through the vehicle as my playlist starts up again. I turn down the music, wanting to concentrate on where I’m going.
Beauty washes over me as I pass by the Welcome to Echo Lake sign. The vast green forest on either side of the road reminds me of home, as does the scent of fresh air and earth when I crack my window. I enjoy living in Boston, but that scent alone carries me back to my childhood.
Memories of running around the woods with Trey or tossing my younger brother and sister in the pool at my grandparents’ house rush back. I smile, feeling nostalgic. That feeling is quickly followed by a familiar aching sensation in my chest. I grip the steering wheel and breathe through it.
I follow the GPS directions until I end up pulling onto Main Street.
The air leaves my lungs as I slowly drive down the quaint road.
Mom-and-pop shops line both sides of the street, and there’s the distinct feeling that life moves a little slower here.
That the people who pass each other on the sidewalk don’t just recognize one another, they know them.
Probably know their parents and their children too.
Know the triumphs and tragedies they’ve experienced and genuinely care about their well-being.
It’s exactly the kind of place I came from but haven’t lived in since I left for college.
There aren’t many parking places on Main, but I snag a spot right in front of the store I’m here to visit—the Crow & Clover. I figured I would grab some snacks to bring with me to where I’m staying, then hit the grocery store in the morning for a more thorough shop.
After parking, I grab my phone from the console and my purse from the passenger seat and step out of the car.
I probably should have changed before I left the office this afternoon. After all, this assignment doesn’t have me dealing with suits in boardrooms—I’m in small-town America.
If I’m going to get these people to open up and trust me, I have to look like one of them.
My vehicle already gives me away, but the caramel dress pants and ivory silk button-up, in conjunction with my slicked-back bun, only add to the impression that I’m an outsider.
And for this assignment to be a success, I need them to see me as one of them.
It’s likely the only way they’ll feel comfortable talking to me and letting me in enough that I can really understand what the proposed development can do to help improve their lives and the economy of their town.
I step into the shop as the bell chimes overhead.
The floors are wide, worn wood slats that appear to have been here for ages.
Not in a derelict way, though. In a way that only the passage of time under generations of soles can do.
Wood beams cross the ceiling, and the wooden tables in the center of the store are covered in various wares that aren’t mass-market goods.
It’s charming and somewhere I’ll definitely come back to explore more.
“Well, hey there, stranger.”
The voice draws me to the counter about halfway down the length of the store. The man standing there appears to be in his mid-forties, with dark salt-and-pepper hair, olive skin, and broad shoulders that fill out his shirt.
“Hey, how are you?” I walk over to him.
“Well, it’s been a day, and the shop closes in an hour, and in about an hour and ten minutes, I’ll be sipping on a glass of chardonnay, so not too bad.”
I chuckle. “Long week?”
“Week was okay. Day was long.” He thumbs toward the back of the store. “Got a leak in the back. Probably need to get the roof replaced.” He cringes.
“I’m sorry.”
He waves off my concern. “It is what it is. Anyway, I’m Manuel. I own this place with my husband, Brennan.”
I hold my hand out over the counter. “Good to meet you, Manuel. I’m Emelia.”
“You passing through?”
I rock my head side to side, not sure how much of why I’m here I want to give away. “I’ll be here for a few months. I have some work to do in the area. This place is charming. How long have you and your husband owned it?” I glance around again.