Chapter 14
It was a full week after Fourth of July, and if anything, things at The Dockside had gotten grimmer.
Reckoning with a fridge full of food that he had to throw away, Theo sat at the bar of the restaurant and gazed out across the glowing, empty tables.
He knew he needed to look at his bank balance, that it was practically echoing with emptiness.
But somehow, he’d imagined that his Fourth of July “rush” of a few tables would multiply, that visitors would make their way to his place from word of mouth alone.
Years ago, Theo had set up a website, but he’d never bothered with social media, thinking it a waste of time and energy. Generally, he felt that the internet was the worst thing that had ever befallen humankind and would be their undoing.
Besides, even if he opened a social media account for The Dockside, he wasn’t sure what he would post. Photos of an empty restaurant? Pictures of his dynamic and interesting foods—all of which were flavorful and divine but not terribly good-looking?
He’d never been particularly driven by aesthetics, save for his love for Juliet, he supposed. And even falling for Juliet had been rooted in something else, something that had more to do with her vivacious spirit than her super model looks. At least, that’s what he’d always thought.
If he was honest with himself, which he did not enjoy being, he might admit that seeing Juliet on the evening of the Fourth of July had rattled him to the bone.
A part of him had itched with desire to see her again.
Another part of him demanded that she come back to the restaurant and rebuild their relationship, if she wanted that.
He wasn’t going to go out of his way to reconnect with her.
He knew she was probably embarrassed, though. Her date had walked out on her without saying goodbye. That had to hurt. It felt like yet another reason for Theo not to date anymore. If someone could walk out on the likes of Juliet, there was no telling what women might do to him.
At twelve thirty that afternoon, Theo closed the restaurant, threw away expired food, and decided to go for a walk along the water. It was a calm day, with a soft breeze coming off the ocean. He closed his eyes and tried to envision the next stage of his life.
But at that moment, a text buzzed in his pocket.
It was an email from a lawyer named Claire Roberts.
It read: Restaurateur Nellie Strong wishes to reconnect and discuss the purchase of The Dockside.
She’s willing to offer you a considerable amount to leave the location as soon as possible. She asks you to listen to reason.
Theo felt so dizzy that he collapsed on the nearest bench and put his head between his knees. This was not how he’d imagined reconnecting with Nellie Strong. He’d hoped they would never have to talk to one another again.
He remembered his final conversation with Nellie, the advice she’d tried to lend him to stay afloat here.
All the while, he understood, she’d been thinking about The Dockside as a prime location for her next restaurant.
Had she been flirting with him for months just to butter him up for this sale?
He wouldn’t do it! No matter how empty his bank account was.
No matter if they kicked him out of the property soon. He wouldn’t sell to Nellie Strong.
That evening, there was another meeting about the Christmas Festival at city hall.
Theo had considered skipping, but he felt he needed to make an appearance, if only to show people like Calvin Parish that he was doing his best. But once seated, long before the meeting came to order, Theo felt the eagle-eyed gaze of Calvin Parish upon him.
And when he glanced up, he realized that Calvin had come over to where he was sitting.
“Do you think we could have a private chat?” Calvin asked in the style of a man who was used to getting his way.
Theo followed Calvin to the back halls of the grand building, where they stood beneath old photographs of Bluebell Cove mayors and community volunteers. Calvin looked at Theo as though he were a dismal case, someone he needed to take care of before he ruined everything.
“I understand that you haven’t made any changes since our last meeting,” Calvin said.
Theo’s blood pressure skyrocketed. “That’s not true, really,” he said. “I’ve had multiple recipes on rotation. I’ve been experimenting with Peruvian…”
“But how is anyone supposed to know that, Theo?” Calvin asked, aghast. “How is anyone supposed to enter your restaurant and feel safe and happy and relaxed? The last time I poked my head in, I saw trash all over the floor. I saw…”
“That’s not true. I don’t have trash on my floor,” Theo shot back, huffing. He guessed that Calvin had poked his head in when Theo was cleaning, or taking out the trash, or something. It stood to reason that Calvin would use something like that against him.
“I don’t know what to say,” Calvin said under his breath. “The last thing we want to do is shut you down, but if you don’t make any real changes before the Christmas Festival? We have no choice but to…”
“I need a loan,” Theo stammered. “I swear, it’s the last thing I’ll ask you for.”
Calvin wet his lips and gave him a serious look, one that reminded Theo of his father before he’d died, a look that meant I want to trust you, but I don’t know if you deserve it.
But Theo felt like he was at the end of his rope. He wasn’t willing to sell to Nellie, and he genuinely wanted to make his restaurant work, if only because he couldn’t imagine what else he’d do.
What had all that work been for?
“I’ll do everything on that list you sent,” Theo said. “I have dreams and visions for the place. Honestly, I think I can be a part of the Christmas Festival. A vital part.”
Did he? Did he still have dreams and visions? He felt as though he’d left all his dreams and visions far back in his twenties, that he’d thrown them out along with his marriage.
Calvin closed his eyes. “You need help, Theo.”
“I need money,” Theo said.
“How do we know you won’t throw it all away on something silly? Some strange ingredient that you can only get in Thailand? Some stupid decoration that won’t bring in guests? You can’t be trusted on this by yourself,” Calvin said. “You’re too reckless. You aren’t a businessman.”
Although Theo was initially annoyed, so much so that it felt like there was fire in his stomach, he reckoned Calvin was right.
But something about it reminded him of those weeks with Callie back in 2005: How she’d been asked to put together a mural, and how she’d said she couldn’t possibly do all the work on her own.
Maybe there was grace in asking for help.
As it happened, there was someone else in the back halls of that grand, old building.
Celia Harper was chatting with another member of city hall, her phone raised to record him.
It was clear she was interviewing for the newspaper, a part-time gig she kept despite her work at the Eco-Lodge.
But when her eyes pegged Theo’s, a shudder rippled through him.
Somehow, despite her focus on her interview, she’d overheard everything he and Calvin had been talking about. He was sure of it.
“Figure it out,” Calvin said. “Send us a business plan by the end of the week, and we can arrange for a wire transfer. But Theo, we aren’t messing around on this. We’re business professionals, and Bluebell Cove is very important to us. It isn’t a game.”
With that, Calvin traipsed back through the double-wide doors, leaving Theo in the shadows of the hallway, his heart thumping. Celia’s interview was winding down, and she raised a finger in his direction, as though to ask him to stay put—for just a moment. Theo wanted to wilt.
But when Celia approached him, pocketing her phone and wearing a beautiful and earnest smile, Theo never could have imagined what she’d say next.
“I think I have an idea,” she breathed.
“I’ll take anything you’ve got,” Theo said, trying to laugh but finding he couldn’t.
But he hadn’t heard her proposal yet. When it came, Theo had no will to laugh at all.