Chapter 6
Julie smiled as her coffee cup was refilled for the third time. With her laptop in front of her, she was grateful the staff at The Lakeside Grill didn’t mind her being here. For the last hour, she’d been filling out application forms and searching the Internet for any jobs in the area.
She double-checked the job description for a position with the Lake County Leader. It was the main newspaper in Polson, and jobs rarely became available. With her experience, she should stand a good chance of being interviewed. But she’d missed out on other positions, so she wasn’t getting excited.
As she submitted her application, she crossed her fingers. Julie was trying to be positive, she really was. But it wasn’t easy looking for a job. Every position either wanted someone with advanced digital skills or with established connections she no longer possessed.
The restaurant door opened, letting in a gust of evening air.
Julie glanced up out of habit and recognized Cole Morrison.
He was wearing jeans and a casual button-down shirt instead of the suit he’d worn for the community meeting.
But he still carried himself with the same careful posture that set him apart from most of the people in town.
He approached the counter, looking as though he was planning a quick getaway.
Julie closed her laptop before talking herself out of what she was about to do. The resort intrigued her, and there was only one person who could answer her questions.
She walked over as Cole was studying the menu board above the register. “Mr. Morrison?” She kept her voice friendly but professional. “I’m Julie Harrison. We met briefly at the community meeting.”
Recognition dawned in his eyes. “Of course. Please, call me Cole.” He shook her hand with the same firm grip she remembered. “How are you settling into Sapphire Bay?”
“I’m still unpacking a few boxes and forgetting where I’ve put everything,” Julie admitted. “Are you here for dinner?”
“I was planning to grab something to go.” He gestured toward the menu. “I’ve had a long day at the construction site.”
Julie hesitated for only a second. “You’re welcome to join me if you like. It’s better than eating alone.”
Cole seemed surprised, but something in his face softened. “That’s kind of you. I’d like that.”
They returned to Julie’s table by the window. Cole ordered the grilled salmon while Julie chose the burger she’d been thinking about getting earlier.
“So,” Julie said once they’d settled in, “how does the resort at Finley Point compare to your other projects? You said you’ve built resorts all over the country.”
“It’s a lot different.” Cole leaned back in his chair, seeming to genuinely consider the question rather than offering a rehearsed answer.
“Most of my previous work involved transforming existing properties or building in established resort areas. This is the first time I’ve developed something from raw land in a community this small. ”
“That must make the project more complex.” Julie’s journalist instincts were kicking into gear despite herself. “There must be more stakeholders to consider.”
Cole smiled. “There are. In Jackson Hole or Park City, you’re working within an existing tourism infrastructure.
Here, every decision ripples through the community.
Do you remember the traffic study I mentioned at the meeting?
In a larger town, that would be routine.
Here, it matters whether Mr. Anderson’s gas station loses business during construction. ”
Their food arrived and Julie took a bite of her burger. It was just as delicious as Jenny said it was. “What made you want to tackle something this involved as your final project?”
Cole cut into his salmon. “I’m tired of building places that could be anywhere. Beautiful, yes. Functional, absolutely. But they’re all interchangeable. I wanted to create something that belongs to this landscape and community.”
Julie remembered the images of the resort and sighed. “It’s an ambitious project.”
“It is.” Cole met her eyes directly. “Which is slightly terrifying. Most people in their sixties are thinking about retirement, not building a world-class resort.”
Julie smiled. “Try being fifty-nine and starting over from scratch. At least you chose your new beginning. Mine was chosen for me.”
Cole frowned. “What happened?”
“I was laid off from the newspaper I was working on. My entire career was gone in a fifteen-minute meeting.” She kept her tone light, but the regret leaked through anyway. “According to my boss, my skills were ‘valuable but not aligned with the organization’s digital-first direction.’”
Cole winced. “That’s a brutal way to end a career.”
“The worst part is wondering if they’re right. Maybe I am obsolete. Maybe I waited too long to adapt.” She paused, surprised at her own candor. “Sorry. You didn’t sign up for my mid-life crisis along with dinner.”
“I asked.” Cole’s voice held genuine sympathy. “And for what it’s worth, I understand the feeling. Every time someone on my team mentions TikTok or influencer marketing, I wonder if I’m building something the next generation will even want.”
Julie tilted her head to the side, surprised by Cole’s comment.
“People will always want to feel connected, whether it’s to their family and friends or to their community.
The projects you showed us at the meeting are incredible.
They give people a sense of connection and permanence that no social media platform could ever do. ”
Cole’s eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled. “Thank you. I should have recorded what you said for the times when I second-guess myself.”
Julie matched his smile. “I’ll send you some positive affirmations tomorrow.” When she’d invited Cole to join her, she hadn’t expected to feel as though she was having dinner with an old friend. Or someone who could be more than a friend.
“How are the permit reviews progressing?” Julie asked, steering toward Cole’s work instead of anything more personal. “The timeline you presented didn’t leave a lot of time for last-minute hold-ups.”
Cole didn’t seem bothered by her question.
“We’re working closely with the county planning department.
But even with the fast-track program, it takes time to provide them with all the impact reports.
Then there’s the Army Corps of Engineers for anything affecting the shoreline, a state review for water rights, and about fifteen other regulatory hoops we’ve almost finished. ”
“That sounds like a nightmare of bureaucracy.”
“It’s necessary, though.” Cole’s conviction was clear. “Every one of those reviews exists because someone cut corners in the past and caused damage. I’d rather do this properly than rush and destroy what makes this place special.”
Julie studied him over her coffee cup. “That’s surprisingly patient for a developer. Most would be pushing to build the resort as quickly as possible.”
“Most developers aren’t planning to live in the community they’re building in.” Cole smiled slightly. “It’s hard to enjoy your retirement if your neighbors hate you.”
“Fair point.” Julie hesitated, then decided to tell him what she’d been thinking when he was talking about the resort. “You know, at the meeting, I noticed people responded more to your commitment to stay than to any of the technical details about the project.”
Cole’s attention sharpened. “Really?”
Julie nodded. “It shifted the whole tone. Before that, you were an outsider promising things that might never happen. But after you spoke about living here, you were a potential neighbor with shared stakes in getting things right. The people living in Sapphire Bay seem to care more about intentions than credentials.”
“That’s...” Cole paused, seeming to process the insight. “That’s helpful. I’ve been focused on addressing specific concerns, but maybe I should be emphasizing the resort’s long-term benefits to the community.”
Julie felt oddly pleased by his response. “It was only an observation. Take it for what it’s worth.”
They finished their meal trading stories about their respective industries.
Cole described a disastrous project in Arizona where the client changed their mind three times about the building’s footprint.
Julie shared the time she’d spent a week investigating a potential money laundering scheme.
But it turned out to be a legitimate business transaction that her source had misunderstood.
When the server brought the check, Cole reached for it. “My treat. You saved me from eating takeout in my rental and staring at construction schedules.”
“Thank you.” Julie gathered her laptop and bag. “I didn’t have any construction schedules to worry about, but I did have some more employment sites to check. And believe me, having dinner with you was so much better.”
Cole stood and pulled on his jacket. “Good luck with the job search. For what it’s worth, any organization that doesn’t value your experience is making a mistake.”
Julie smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind when I apply for my next job.”
They walked out together, parting in the parking lot with a friendly wave.
As Julie drove toward her cottage, she thought about their conversation. About the way Cole had listened without offering empty platitudes. About his admission of fear at starting something new.
She’d expected a polished developer focused solely on profit margins. She’d found someone grappling with the same questions about purpose and belonging that kept her awake most nights.
It was an unsettling realization. And it was even more unsettling when she realized how much she’d enjoyed sharing a meal with someone who knew what it meant to rebuild your life.