Chapter Two
Cade
I hold the coffee shop owner’s gaze a bit too long.
Not on purpose. But…
There’s something about her I’m drawn to.
I sip my latte without taking my eyes from the delicate lines of her face.
The object of my interest frowns. She probably thinks I’m socially awkward. Or worse—have fallen in love with her at first sight.
Not that I’m a believer in fairy tales. Nope. When it comes to love, I’m glass half-empty.
But…honestly? The shop owner is my kind of attractive.
Lustrous, walnut brown hair. Laugh lines accenting bright blue eyes.
An air of authenticity about her that makes me feel a stab of guilt about the reason for my visit to Mermaid Bay.
I’m here to lay the groundwork for buying her out.
Her and the other businesses on the pier, plus the long row of outdated buildings and businesses lining the boardwalk.
Mermaid Bay, Oregon, is overdue for an update. One that will ensure the town will thrive for several more centuries.
“I’m Cade.” I sip my coffee again, taking my time because it’s early afternoon and there’s no one else in line. “Just rolled into town.” After driving since long before sunrise from San Francisco.
“Lena.” The café owner tugs on her brown apron where her name has been embroidered in white below a mermaid logo.
Mermaids. They’re too whimsical for my taste.
In such a small space—four tables inside, a walk-up order window, and two tables with benches outside—Lena’s done a good job of leaning into the theme.
The entire café has that beach cottage, romantic vibe.
Mermaids, turtles, sea shells, whitewashed wood planks, chalkboard menu.
But she was leaving money on the proverbial table.
There were no T-shirts with that logo. No bags of coffee beans for sale with that logo. Not even a mug with a mermaid tail.
“I take it you’re not a mermaid fan.” Lena smirks. It’s an attractive smirk but it implies she’s noticed I’m assessing her business.
“I’m more of a superhero fan.” But I wouldn’t open a cape and tights themed coffee shop. I’ve found more success with more modern styling—white walls, gray countertops, narrow, black metal chairs that don’t encourage customers to linger.
“Cade is trouble,” comes a grumbly, feminine voice from the table in the back.
I turn, taking in a gray-haired hippy wearing a maroon paisley dress, a stretched, beige fisherman’s sweater and a too-sharp gaze. “Cade is no trouble,” I assure her, talking about myself in the third person.
“That’s what Trouble always says,” the woman grumbles once more. “Right before the barn burns down and the cows don’t come home.”
“You’re thinking of Mayhem,” I say with a straight face, referring to a long-running series of insurance commercials.” Assembling a carefree smile, I face Lena and reassure her, “I’m not Mayhem. Or Trouble.”
Lena’s gaze has become guarded.
“Trouble was going to ask you out, Lena,” the hippy woman says.
“I don’t date.” Lena places both hands on her side of the butcherblock counter, looking attractively untouchable.
“I’m not looking to date.” Nevertheless, the idea of a date with her appeals.
“That said…I was wondering if you’d like to show me around town.
” Nothing like a local to give you the real story about a place.
My dad taught me that. And he’s the reason I’m here.
I need a big deal to prove to the old man that I can take over the family real estate development business without it missing a step.
“Bad idea,” our audience weighs in. The old lady cradles what looks like a hand-thrown, brown mug with a three-dimensional, scowling face added on it.
“I can turn dates down by myself, Marina,” Lena says.
Marina harrumphs, taking a sip of whatever is in that mug.
“No, thank you, Cade,” Lena continues, smiling sweetly. “I have a No Date policy.”
Her statement takes me by surprise. Lena is the complete package—pretty, smart, sassy, and with her act together. Not to mention, I’ve been told I’m something of a catch.
“Trouble is trying to regroup.” Marina chuckles.
I don’t turn to acknowledge my heckler. “It wasn’t a date I had in mind. I’m considering buying property here.” That much was true. “Mermaid Bay has its charm and I want to know if it’s TV movie charm or real-real charm.”
“Trouble,” Marina repeats from the corner, flinging a long gray braid over her shoulder. “Those fancy shoes say big business. If I had to guess…real estate developer.”
Lena considers my face. Then my Italian loafers.
I nod, trying to look sincere.
Those who’ve dealt with my father would probably tell you it’s impossible for any Delaney to be sincere. But they’d be wrong. I sincerely believe that revitalizing a town or neighborhood is good for everyone long term.
“Why do you want to live here?” Lena asks, perhaps not buying Marina’s correct assessment that I’m in real estate. “Marina’s right. Those shoes of yours are out of place here.”
I don’t want to live in Mermaid Bay. I want to buy up commercial property and make Mermaid Bay a modern-day playground, bringing economic growth that would benefit everyone.
But that’s not the point, so I deflect. “Why should I choose Mermaid Bay?”
“He’s a candidate for the Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour.” Marina laughs disparagingly. “The man doesn’t have eyes.”
Oh, I have eyes, all right. And perfect hearing, along with a quick wit. And I can tell the old woman doesn’t like strangers.
“Cade, I can take you on the Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour tomorrow. Say nine-thirty or ten o’clock?” Lena smiles a little.
Ah, yes. The woman who’d made me coffee with a heart in the latte foam is still a believer in the good in her fellow man, stranger or not.
And if I didn’t admit to myself that Lena’s belief in me mattered for some reason, I’d be the jaded, heartless, wealthy man my father was.
The man I aspire to be.