Chapter 1 #2
Well, that was unexpected, Isabella thought. Maybe having someone with intimate knowledge of the property would prove to be useful, assuming Luella was willing to share more practical insights and fewer mysterious warnings.
Isabella continued her inspection of the property, confirming Luella’s information about the leak.
She made additional notes. By midday, she had a comprehensive list of renovations that needed to be addressed immediately.
The scope of it was more daunting than she ever could have thought, but it wasn’t unmanageable, not with the right contractor.
Her next stop was the Wexley Island Bank to meet with Gerald Stewart.
He was handling her renovation loan. The bank was located in a stately brick building right on the edge of the historic district.
Inside, its interior was all polished wood and subtle luxury.
The building was surrounded by live oak trees draped in Spanish moss, just like out of a picture book of the Lowcountry.
“Ms. Montgomery, welcome,” Gerald said. He was a ruddy-faced man in his early sixties with a booming Southern voice that contrasted with the quiet atmosphere of the bank.
He waved her into his office, where several folders were neatly arranged on his desk.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.
That inn has been an eyesore for far too long.
It’s going to be good to see it restored to its former glory. ”
“Well, that’s exactly my plan,” Isabella said, taking a seat. “I’ve just come from there. The renovation is going to be extensive, a lot more than I expected seeing it in person, but I know it’s worth it.”
“Oh, of course,” Gerald nodded enthusiastically. “That building is a part of this island’s heritage. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing the inspection report, and I’ve prepared some preliminary loan options for the renovation.”
They spent the next half hour discussing the financials, with Gerald explaining the intricacies of renovation loans for historic properties and all the associated details.
“So the architectural review board will need to approve any exterior changes,” he said, a hint of warning in his voice. “They can be, well… let’s just call it particular.”
“I understand. I’m committed to preserving the historic character of the building. It’s very important to me.”
“Oh, good, good. That’ll help. Now, about contractors.” He shuffled through his papers. “That might be a bit tricky. Most of the major renovation companies are booked solid with projects over on The Dunes.”
Isabella had anticipated this. “I’ve already reached out to several firms in Charleston who specialize in historic renovations. They’re willing to commute.”
Gerald looked uncomfortable. “Well, you see, the thing is, our review board favors local businesses for significant projects like this. Obtaining approval for outside contractors to work on this island is a bureaucratic nightmare. Security clearances, temporary passes, insurance requirements.”
Isabella felt uneasy. “So then what do you suggest?”
“Well, there’s really only one local contractor that has the expertise and capacity to handle a project of this magnitude,” Gerald said.
He pulled a business card from his desk drawer.
“Langley Restoration. Thomas specializes in historic properties. He did the Beaumont place over in The Palms last year. Absolutely magnificent work. I feel sure that the committee would allow him to handle the work on The Wexley Inn.”
The room seemed to tilt sideways. Isabella stared at the card Gerald held out to her, her vision tunneling.
Thomas Langley.
Not just any Thomas Langley. Her Thomas Langley. The man who'd held her close on this very island thirty years ago and promised they'd build a life together. The man who'd vanished without a word one day after graduation, leaving only a brief note saying he "had to go home" and "couldn't explain."
“Is something wrong?”
“No, I just…” Isabella forced herself to take the card, her fingers feeling numb. “That name sounds familiar, that’s all.”
“Oh, Thomas has been on this island forever. His daddy worked maintenance for several of the old estates before he passed. Then Thomas went off to college, I think for architectural engineering, and later returned to start his business. He’s highly respected here, but he can be a bit particular about the projects he takes on. ”
Isabella nodded, but her mind was racing. What were the odds it was the same Thomas? Thomas Langley? That man who broke her heart all those years ago? He was now potentially the only person who could help her realize her dream.
“So I’ve set up a meeting for you with him tomorrow morning,” Gerald said, oblivious to the fact that she was losing her mind and having the world’s worst internal panic attack. “Nine o’clock at the inn. I hope that’s okay.”
“Wait, you’ve already contacted him?” She tried to keep her voice from sounding like a shrieking alarm bell.
“Of course.” Gerald looked surprised. “Property like the inn, that’s big news on a small island. He knows it’s being renovated, and he’s the logical choice for the job.”
She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, trying desperately to remember all those meditation classes she took. It didn’t seem to be helping her much right now.
She was no longer that na?ve twenty-two-year-old college student whose world had been shattered when Thomas Langley had walked away without any explanation whatsoever.
She was a successful businesswoman with decades of experience handling all kinds of difficult situations, and she would handle Thomas Langley.
“That’s fine,” she said, her voice sounding way steadier than she actually felt, “and I appreciate your help setting that up.”
As she left the bank, Isabella walked straight to her car, closed the door, and blew out the most extended breath of her life.
Of all the complications she had anticipated, running into Thomas hadn’t even been on the list. Why would it? What were the chances he’d still be on this small island after all these years?
She looked at the business card in her hand.
Langley Restoration.
The logo featured a little historic home with meticulous detailing, just the kind of attention to craftsmanship she remembered him displaying in their architectural projects.
Isabella started the car and was determined not to let this development derail her plans. She would meet with Thomas tomorrow and maintain strict professionalism. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even remember her. Of course, that was unlikely given their long relationship in college.
She was determined to focus on what mattered - bringing The Wexley Inn back to life. And if he were the best contractor for the job, she’d hire him, despite their personal history. After all, it had been thirty years, and they were probably both different people now.
Whatever had been between them was long gone, relegated to the past, like the faded old photographs she had packed away decades ago. He was probably married with kids, and she had her own life going on, as well. There was no need to let the past get in the way.
By the time she arrived at her rental cottage, a charming one-bedroom bungalow closer to The Palms than The Dunes, she had convinced herself that the meeting would be nothing more than a professional discussion between two people.
She spent the evening unpacking her essentials and creating a vision board for the inn on the dining table, pinning various fabric swatches, color themes, and photographs of the historic hotel interiors that inspired her.
The physical activity helped keep her mind off the impending reunion.
Of course, she could do all of this online, maybe even create a Pinterest board, but Isabella was old-school.
As twilight fell, she stepped onto the small porch with a glass of sweet tea in her hand and watched as fireflies danced among the oak trees.
Despite her anxiety, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of rightness about being here, finally.
This was her chance to create something meaningful, something that was truly hers, and she wasn’t going to let anything or anyone stand in her way, not even Thomas Langley and the ghosts of what might have been if he hadn’t run away all those years ago.
She took one final sip of her tea and went inside to get ready for bed.
Tomorrow would be challenging, but she was ready, because she had to be. There was no other choice.