Chapter 10
Cavin spent the next few hours walking around the downtown waterfront area of Beaufort which was even more beautiful on foot at a slow pace.
He slid his long, thin fingers along the rail separating the boardwalk from Taylor Creek and noticed a neatly placed Christmas wreath hung on each concrete pillar he passed.
The rows of docked boats stretching toward Carrot Island offered a unique and inviting nautical vibe that seemingly attracted people from all walks of life.
With the wind blowing Cavin’s coattail rather fiercely, he stopped to lean against the railing overlooking the creek hoping for a few moments of reprieve from the chilly weather.
He nestled his cold hands into his pockets and studied the wide array of vessels from canoes to sailboats to yachts as the water slapped against the barrier beneath his feet.
One boat in particular captured his attention, and most likely caught the eyes of every passerby.
At the end of one of the docks rested a fancy superyacht twice as long as the next largest yacht in the water’s parking lot. The three enormous decks brought it to a height that surpassed the others by a wide margin, and its sleek design with long, darkly tinted windows was mesmerizing.
Cavin wondered who owned the yacht and what they did for a living.
He imagined their net worth must be at least a billion dollars which meant this individual probably owned a large corporation, was a famous celebrity, or made a fortune some other way.
The impressive boat could even belong to one of the top social media influencers with all the money they raked in these days.
Regardless, Cavin made a note to meet the owner and work his magic to find a way onto the yacht for a tour if nothing else.
Having a contact who played in a league like that would be a major asset.
Walking a little further, Cavin discovered John Newton Park, a small area accessorized with benches beneath spidery live oaks that overlooked the rippling creek.
A cute little red and white barn-style Santa house sat in the middle with a tall chair out front.
He figured families would line up here soon to have pictures of their children taken with the big guy.
Assorted colored lights lined the A-frame roofline; a wreath hung above the doors; and flat wooden trees painted green flanked either side of the entrance.
After some time studying the layout of the scenic waterfront, Cavin went into nearly every shop on Front Street and met as many people as possible.
In some places he talked to the business owners, and in others, he made acquaintances with employees.
Many of the stores were already decorated for Christmas or at least in the process of adding special touches like trees, lights, ornaments, and snowmen.
Early on in his career, Cavin learned not to step up to the counter and start asking questions or for the owner, but to peruse each store with a purpose.
In nearly every shop, he purchased at least one item.
He carried bags around with him so that the staff would realize his intention to shop, and when the merchandise became too bulky, he dropped it off at the rental vehicle.
While perusing the stores, he asked for help, opinions, directions, and all kinds of other things.
He learned as many names as possible and listened for the names of the key players in town that those he met mentioned.
Every small town had a powerful group who pretty much ran things, and those were the people he wanted to influence.
It could consist of the sheriff, a retired professional athlete, the mayor, a respected farmer, business owners, or just about anyone.
Cavin kept a small notebook in his shirt pocket, and each time after visiting a new store, he took notes.
It didn’t take much prodding to figure out which businesses were popular and which ones struggled in this tourist town.
He didn’t need to ask who owned each location because that information was readily accessible online, and he studied the details before going into every establishment.
Most often he would have done this homework on the airplane, and now he kicked himself for watching the movie instead because it slowed down progress during the available hours to work in the field today.
Cavin focused on the ages of the owners and paid attention to which ones sounded tired or worn out from a long year.
Most talked about how business boomed in the summer, but that wintertime brought along a different story.
Nearly everyone noted the sales uptick the holidays offered, but many mentioned that once foot traffic dropped off in January, the little town slowed down drastically.
The locals would shop some but not enough to remain open full-time.
Most shops would then run on limited days and hours until the tourist season kicked in come spring.
Cavin listened intently to these familiar stories.
Most of the small coastal towns he visited dealt with the feast and famine that the weather promised.
Some business owners could handle it, and others couldn’t.
He made careful notes about his first impressions knowing his predictions often proved true.
On the ground, he also began mapping out which properties he wanted to acquire most. The parking lot next to the candy shop interested him more than anything he saw so far, and the Beaufort Candy Company building and the connected structures were high on the list as well.
The more land and buildings he could acquire on adjacent properties, the more opportunities they would bring.
A large, carefully designed hotel would be a wonderful addition to the waterfront area.
Cavin imagined an aesthetically pleasing parking deck at the street level, shops and restaurants accessible from the outside and inside on the second floor, and rooms from the third up.
About six stories would probably allow the new structure to fit in well with the town’s current charm, and the location would demand a premium room rate.
Cavin ate lunch at Clawson’s 1905 Restaurant however, with all the white noise circling the enchanting environment, no one else seemed to notice.
While Cavin savored the taste of Mahi Mahi served over rice and perfectly seasoned veggies, he asked Luther well-thought-out questions. In return Luther spilled the beans on local politics, pointed out all the people he knew in the restaurant, and introduced Cavin to several locals.
“Cavin Dawson works for a firm in Atlanta in business development,” Luther told each one of them.
Cavin carefully crafted those words years ago and repeated them to Luther and everyone else he met today.
He steered clear of phrases like real estate and land acquisition management, knowing that they often raised red flags, especially the latter.
Most people didn’t like change at least not until he could show them the dollar signs that came with improving their town.
“Cavin is here on vacation, but he likes to mix business with pleasure,” was another phrase Luther took in earlier and spat out a few times to his friends which often brought on smiles and seemed to set others at ease.
Cavin almost scrapped the line for this trip because every time he said or heard it, his mind went to Cancun where he should be right now lying on a beach next to beautiful women in bikinis.
Cavin geared his conversations toward helping businesses reach their potential while maximizing profits.
In order to do that, he needed to know as many details as possible, and when business owners realized he was willing to offer them complimentary advice while they became friends, they often opened the corporate books, business plans, marketing strategies, and all the rest. In fact Cavin made plans to play golf tomorrow with a well-respected banker who had been at the restaurant’s bar having a few drinks on his day off until Luther waved him over.
“It’s a great day to have banker’s hours,” Cavin offered with a grin when Luther introduced them.
“It’s almost as nice as being on vacation,” the clever fellow replied.
“You have one-upped me there, Jeff,” Cavin laughed while the waitress cleared the plates.
Jeff sat down with them after standing beside their table for several minutes in conversation.
While that might have seemed rude in a fancy Atlanta restaurant, in a small town that’s what people did, and it usually worked in Cavin’s favor.
The more friends he could make, the better.
He found out that Jeff was a scratch golfer which he appreciated.
Now he wouldn’t have to let the guy win purposely.
“Luther, would you like to play eighteen holes with us?” Cavin asked.
Luther snickered. “You fellows call me when you play a round of putt-putt.”
Everyone laughed.
“Jeff, you should invite a couple of friends to join us,” Cavin suggested.
“I will see who I can scrounge up.”
“Tell them the outing is on me,” Cavin offered. He carried a healthy budget for wining and dining, and he would pay for the meal he and Luther just ate even though Luther invited him. “That might entice them.”
“We will likely have a line of people waiting to play,” Jeff teased.
“The more the merrier.”
Cavin needed a local to have some drinks with this evening so he could check out the nightlife on his first Friday in Beaufort.
He considered asking Luther or Jeff, but neither seemed like the type.
Both wore wedding rings and probably had a family at home.
Cavin thought back through the people he met today—the names he wrote in his notebook and the business cards with phone numbers.
He would prefer to meet an attractive woman who could show him around town, and if it turned into something more, that would be an added bonus, especially since he would be in Beaufort for a while.
Cavin recalled meeting a few cute ladies today.
Some he imagined could show him a pretty good time, but for some reason one in particular stood out.
In fact his interaction with Noel Puckett crossed his mind several times as he familiarized himself with this place.
She had kids, though, making the chances she could go out on a whim on a Friday night seem unlikely.
He would also feel a little awkward going back into her store for a second, or technically a third, time today.
Cavin blinked his eyes realizing he lost track of the conversation the two gentlemen sitting across from him were having in reality. When they reached a stopping point, he asked a question his mind had been pondering.
“So who owns the fancy yacht?”