Chapter 14
MY SWEATY FOREHEAD IS WORKING OVERTIME ON MAKING ME LOOK LIKE AN ASS.
BILLIE
I’m so fucking late.
Damn it, why did I have to make myself a smoothie for breakfast?
I should have left when I was ready and early, but nooooo.
My unmedicated ADHD was too loud so early in the morning and decided I had time for a smoothie, which turned into organizing things in the freezer because I couldn’t find the frozen fruit, which then turned into wondering why the blender is stored in such an inconvenient spot, which then turned into searching for a straw for my cup.
When I realized how little I wanted to clean up my own mess, I finally looked at the clock and saw it was already nine o’clock. The meeting with my dad and whoever else he had invited for this town restoration project was due to start, and I didn’t even have my shoes on.
The worst part about this is I ran out the door and left my smoothie on the counter. There’s no way in hell I’m drinking that shit when I get home this evening. Ew. Just thinking about having to clean it up is grossing me out.
With a hand on my stomach and sweat building on my forehead, I walk into the conference room my dad booked, hoping I can be discreet. The door, however, has other plans: it screeches and squeaks for several seconds as I open it slowly, and then trills again on its way to closing.
One hundred percent of the attention settles on me, like a hot, too-bright spotlight. I refuse to look, but the heat of it is impossible to ignore. I blow at the stands of hair falling over my eyes, but they don’t move, as my sweaty forehead is working overtime on making me look like an ass.
“Morning,” I announce brightly with an awkward wave.
My dad gives me a disapproving look, which he quickly covers with a tight-lipped smile.
I take a seat across from someone typing on a laptop.
When I pull my chair in and look up at the person next to me, I find brown eyes already locked in on mine. “So sorr—”
“Good morning.” Peter’s deep voice washes over me, and my stomach sinks to my feet, my mouth goes dry, and my lungs forget how to do their one, singular job. I stare wide-eyed at the last person I expected to see here. His smirk is conveniently hidden from my father as he faces me.
“Thanks for joining us, Lizzie.” My dad continues talking, but my ears have ceased to work as well, because all I can focus on is Peter mouthing Lizzie at me, and it’s not until the woman across from us laughs loudly—the one I recognize as a member of the Business Bureau whose full-time job seems to be kissing my father’s ass—that I come out of my stupor.
“Uh, yeah, sorry I’m late, everyone.” I clear my throat and set my phone on the table, facing down.
“Right. Well, Billie,” my dad starts, and I realize he must have been correcting himself earlier, making the same joke he always does: “I can’t keep up with what my daughter chooses since it changes so often, and that includes the name she goes by.
” Most people don’t get the reference to my sexuality, but the jab is always there, sharp enough for me—and only me—to feel.
“You know everyone present, and you’ve been slightly briefed on what we’d like to do in town.
I was going over our goals to rejuvenate Balsam Bay and bring in more businesses that can thrive year-round, not just in the summer months when it’s high season for visitors. ”
“It sounds exciting. I started doing some research on other southern shore towns, the trends in Nova Scotia, and I have to say, Balsam Bay is promising given how it’s growing.
” Peter’s words stun all of us into silence.
“Anyway, I’d love to know whether you’ve given thought to where you’d like to start. ”
“Billie, why don’t you go ahead and run through what we discussed.
I’ll fill in any blanks along the way.” Dad’s lack of confidence in me is seemingly never-ending.
As if I don’t know exactly what it would take to renovate the town’s center, taking into consideration the heritage status of many of the buildings.
“Right. Well, this would have to be done in phases, of course, so we’d want to start where we can get immediate traction—” I pull the town map laid out on the table closer, ready to point to what I know would be the best place to start, but Peter speaks up.
“The marina,” he says confidently as my finger lands on the exact spot on the map.
“Um, yeah. I mean, not so much the marina itself, but the surrounding area. If we had more outdoor spaces for people to enjoy, it would be so much more than a place to park boats, you know?” I pull my hand back, shrugging as I look up at Peter again.
He nods emphatically. “Adding a boardwalk would be a great start, maybe something that connects the marina to Main Street and the town hall?”
“Yes,” I practically shout. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. We could increase the space where the Farmers’ Market is hosted on weekends, and make space available for other vendors.”
“Yeah, I mean, if we’re drawing people to the marina, we need to give them a reason to stay and explore.
Maybe there’s a way to widen the boardwalk enough for there to be pop-up shops set up, food trucks, and festivals, until more permanent structures could be put in place?
It’d be a great way for businesses to test out how successful they would be with a bricks-and-mortar place without spending much, and then you’d have guaranteed interest when the time came.
” Peter’s excitement is palpable, and I find myself smiling so wide my cheeks ache.
“Exactly, P—uh, pal.” Oh my fuck. What? Pal? My cheeks are on fire, but I stop caring the moment Peter’s laughter fills the air.
“You two certainly seem to be on the same page,” my dad intervenes. I honestly forgot he was here. “And what about the Main Street area itself? What about businesses that need more than the seasonal boost?”
“Well, that’s going to take much more time, given the amount of red tape we’re going to have to get through.
The heritage buildings will be tricky. We’ll have to consider how difficult it is to make the street modifications happen.
” I feel like I’m bringing the energy down, but it is the reality of the situation.
“Right,” Peter begins, “but I also think the preservation of these historical buildings is something we can get people excited about. Some of them have been vacant for years, so to be able to fill them without diminishing any of their character will be great. It’ll lead to diversifying the business structure from seasonal in the warm months to year-round, serving the community as a whole. We have to start small but think big.”
My father’s loud chuckle is followed by a clap. “That’s right, Darcy. I like your thinking—big.”
Did he even hear the part when he said we have to start small first?
“I agree,” I say plainly. “If we keep this community-focused and plan these phases to start with the least expensive, most immediately impactful areas first, it’ll be much easier to expand on that.”
“And,” Peter adds, “we can get community input during the process, focus on long-term sustainability over quick profits to make sure this makes a lasting impact.”
God, I could kiss him right now. He’s so hot when he says shit like this. Who would have thought?
My dad once again—and maybe even thankfully—snatches me out of my lust-fueled daydreams. “Right. Well, we can discuss those things along the way. How would you two like to work together on this and come up with something we can bring to the powers that be?”
I thought he was the power, given his presidency, which he never lets anyone forget about. I’m about to ask him why he’s not the one putting the work into this when I’m interrupted.
“I’m in,” Peter says, and I immediately start to scour my brain for a reason—any reason—why I can say no.
“Perfect. Well, that was efficient.” Dad stands, clapping his hands together once again as he ends our meeting.
“I’m sure you’ll come up with a solution to bring some much-needed new business into the town.
” He and the person taking notes—I don’t remember what her name is—make their way out the large wooden door.
Peter leans in, clicking his tongue. “Looks like you and me are gonna be spending some time together this summer, Beth.”