Chapter 21
The meeting dissolved into scattered conversations about generator rentals and emergency contact lists. Cassidy watched Bryan’s empty chair and felt everyone’s careful glances.
Sally appeared at her elbow. “Walk with me.”
They stepped outside into air thick with humidity and the promise of the coming storm.
“What was that about?” Cassidy asked.
Sally’s face showed the careful neutrality of someone choosing her words. “Dorothy mentioned Bryan stopped by Harbor Brew earlier. Saw you on a phone call.” She paused. “He turned around and walked right back out.”
Her stomach dropped. The call with David. She’d sat at a corner table for privacy, but she hadn’t been hiding. Had Bryan heard her discussing deliverables and implementation timelines? Had he drawn conclusions before she’d even sorted through the mess herself?
“Where does he live?”
Sally gave her the address without hesitation. “Be gentle with him. That boy’s been carrying the weight of the world since his daddy died.”
She drove through streets she’d learned to navigate without GPS. The cottage Bryan owned sat in a neighborhood of small bungalows with wide porches and mature palm trees. His truck occupied the driveway. Lights glowed inside.
She parked and sat with her hands on the wheel. The smart thing would be to let this go. Give him space. Let the storm pass, literally and figuratively, then approach him when emotions weren’t running high.
But she’d spent her entire adult life making the smart choice, the strategic choice, the choice that protected her career at the expense of everything else. Look where that had gotten her.
She climbed out of her car.
The porch light flickered on as she approached. Bryan opened the door before she could knock, standing in the threshold with his arms crossed and his expression carefully blank.
“Mom tell you where I live?”
“Sally, actually.” Cassidy held her ground. “We need to talk.”
“I think you said everything that needs saying at the meeting.”
“I didn’t say anything at the meeting. You did.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “You want to come in and discuss storm protocols? Review vendor contracts one more time before you head back to Chicago?”
The bitterness in his voice cut deep.
“I want to understand why you’re treating me like I did something wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He stepped back from the door but didn’t invite her in. “You were always clear about why you were here. A sabbatical. A temporary arrangement. I’m the fool who forgot that.”
She moved forward before he could shut the door.
The cottage interior was sparse but comfortable.
A worn sofa faced a bookshelf crammed with maritime histories and fishing guides.
Framed photographs covered one wall. The Lucas family through the decades, Bryan’s father standing proud in front of The Sandpiper’s original sign.
“Dorothy said you heard me on the phone this morning.”
“Wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.” He moved to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, staring at its contents without taking anything out. “Came in for coffee. Heard you talking about digital integration and return dates. Figured it out pretty quick.”
“Figured what out?”
He shut the refrigerator and turned to face her. “That this whole thing was exactly what it looked like from the start. High-powered executive takes on small-town project to pad her resume and prove she’s still sharp. Returns to her real life with a nice story about how she helped the locals.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” He leaned against the counter. “You showed up here with your color-coded schedules and your marketing expertise, and I was foolish enough to think maybe you actually cared about the festival. About the town.” His voice dropped. “About me.”
“I do care.”
“But not enough to stay.”
The truth of it sat between them. “I got a job offer. Senior VP of Strategy. It’s everything I’ve worked toward.”
“Congratulations.” The word was flat.
“I haven’t accepted it.”
“But you’re going to.”
“I don’t know.”
Bryan’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “You don’t know. That’s great, Cassidy. Real comforting.”
She moved closer. “David—my boss—called. One of my colleagues destroyed an account I built from the ground up. They’re offering me the corner office, the title, everything I burned myself out trying to earn. They gave me forty-eight hours to give them an answer.”
“So you’re weighing your options. Seeing if this little coastal town can compete with the big city career.” His eyes were hard. “Let me save you some time. It can’t.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“He pushed away from the counter. “No? Then what are you doing? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to figure out if I’m worth giving up your dreams for. And we both know how that calculation ends.”
“You don’t know anything about my dreams.”
“I know you didn’t come to Starlight Shores looking for a life.
You came looking for a break. Two months to recharge before you went back to what matters.
” He gestured around the small cottage. “This was never supposed to be permanent. I get it. I do. But don’t stand here and pretend you haven’t been planning your exit strategy since day one. ”
Her hands clenched into fists. “Is that really what you think of me?”
“I think you’re terrified of ending up like your mother. Small life, small town, nothing to show for it but regrets.” His voice gentled slightly. “And I think you’ve spent so long running from that fear that you can’t recognize when you’ve found something worth staying for.”
The words were too close to the truth. “You don’t get to psychoanalyze me.”
“Then tell me I’m wrong.” He closed the distance between them. “Tell me you haven’t been treating the last month like a project with a deadline. Tell me every time we connected, every conversation we had, you weren’t already thinking about how it would end.”
She wanted to deny it. Wanted to say he was completely off base. But standing in his small kitchen with his hurt written plainly across his face, she couldn’t lie.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered.
“Do what?”
“Let myself want something that doesn’t fit into my… plans.” Her voice cracked. “I came here broken. The festival was supposed to prove I could still function and still be the person I built my entire identity around being.”
“And?”
“Instead, I started caring about things that have nothing to do with deliverables and deadlines.” She looked at him. “I started caring about you.”
His expression shifted. For a moment, she thought he might reach for her. Then he stepped back and shook his head.
“But not enough.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” His voice rose. “You want to talk about fair? I opened up to you. Told you things I haven’t told anyone.
Let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, you were different.
That you saw something in this town, in this life, worth building toward.
” He ran his hand through his hair. “But no. You look at Starlight Shores like it’s a layover between real destinations. ”
“That’s not true.” Her anger flared. “I have a career I’ve sacrificed everything for. My boss is offering me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Is he?” He moved toward the door. “Do you want the corner office, or do you want a life, Cassidy? You can’t have both.”
“Why not?”
“Because the corner office is in Chicago. And the life is here.” He opened the door. “And we both know which one you’re going to choose.”
She stared at him. “I haven’t chosen anything yet.”
“Yeah, you have. You just don’t want to admit it.” His face was resigned now, the anger burning out to leave only sadness. “I was falling for you. Really falling. And I thought maybe you felt the same way. But this whole time, I was just the nice distraction before you went back to your real life.”
“Bryan—”
“I need you to go.”
The dismissal was quiet but absolute. She wanted to argue and tell him he was wrong, that she hadn’t been using him, and her feelings were real even if her future was uncertain.
But standing in his doorway with the storm gathering and his hurt filling the space between them, she couldn’t find the words.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He wouldn’t look at her. “Me too.”
She walked to her car. Bryan’s door closed before she reached the street. She sat behind the wheel and stared at his closed door.
Her phone buzzed. A text from David: Any thoughts on timing for your return? Team is eager to have you back.
In the distance, she could just make out the lighthouse beam, steady and constant despite the approaching storm.
Bryan’s question echoed in her mind. Do you want the corner office, or do you want a life?
The terrible truth was she honestly didn’t know.
She’d spent so many years building toward that office. Sacrificed relationships, health, peace of mind. The promotion was validation that all those sacrifices meant something. That she wasn’t her mother, settling for less, giving up on ambitions for the comfort of a simple existence.
But the last month or so in Starlight Shores had shown her a different version of herself.
Someone who laughed at community fundraisers and learned family recipes.
Someone who cared about traditions more than market positioning.
Someone who fell asleep without checking email and woke up eager to work on something that mattered for reasons that had nothing to do with her resume.
Someone who was falling for a stubborn fisherman who made her want things she’d never let herself imagine.