Chapter 9
The Pelican Pub was a far cry from the quiet manicured world of the Sterling estate or the small group setting of silent book club.
Closed to the public until the festival planning meeting was over, the pub felt cavernous.
Normally, Holly loved the upbeat, bustling energy of the place, but tonight she was on edge.
Every laugh sounded like a challenge and every clinking glass felt like a countdown.
Seb still hadn’t shown up and the meeting was due to start in a few minutes. Something was up with him. Or maybe she was paranoid, letting old hurts creep back into her heart. At some point she had to start trusting again. Trusting beyond her close circle of friends.
Caution was smart—no one disagreed—but she was taking it to extremes and for the first time in years, feeling limited.
Because of Seb.
Well, specifically because of kissing Seb.
She sat with Vince at a small high-top table in the back of the room, her notebook open, though she hadn’t written a word.
Members of the committee were gathered at other tables and nearby, she noticed Grace and her fiancé Calvin discussing something intently.
“Levi Garrison has new ideas,” she murmured to Vince.
He followed her gaze to the couple and sat up a little straighter. “That’s a good sign.”
Holly shook her head. “Did you make any progress on the Sterling feature today?”
“Aside from rumors that he moved here to court you?” Vince shrugged.
She smacked his shoulder. “Stop teasing.” At least she hoped he was teasing. But wasn’t that exactly why she’d returned the interview to her co-editor?
Reed stepped up to the stage and reached for the microphone just as Seb walked in. “Perfect timing.” The older man beamed at Seb. “Everyone, Seb Sterling. He’s our new neighbor over at the Marion estate. We’re glad you could make it.”
Seb waved and bobbed his chin, looking for the closest open chair. She noticed he’d shaved and dressed in a thermal Henley and jeans for the evening. The shirt hugged his defined arms and chest and she wished she was back in his kitchen, tucked in close.
“Ogling him only feeds the rumor mill,” Vince whispered.
Holly abruptly shifted her complete focus to Reed.
If only it had stayed there.
Her gaze drifted to Seb, watching him for any reaction as he listened to the updates and discussion. He seemed attentive, without giving away any reactions. The tension in his jaw likely wasn’t noticeable to anyone but her.
She liked that a bit too much.
A motion had been made to move the main stage this year and after a spirited debate, tradition won out. And for good reason. The proposed change would impact parking areas and impede traffic flow to Central Avenue.
Though the festival was all about the music, because it was a serious tourist draw, business owners extended hours and relied on the revenue boost of the three-day event.
“With that settled,” Reed said with a smile, “I’d like to confirm that we can use the area near the lighthouse for band parking again this year.”
He waited, but no one said anything.
“Mr. Sterling,” Reed prompted. “That’s your decision.”
Seb jerked in his chair. “Oh.” He cleared his throat as all eyes turned toward him. A pin drop would’ve crashed like cymbals through the hushed room. “Is, um, is that how it’s been done in the past?”
“Yes,” Reed said. “It’s out of the way, giving them some privacy with easier security solutions.”
A woman stood up. “Hey, Mr. Sterling. I’m Jess Billings, a regional coordinator for the Guardian Agency.”
Holly caught the flicker of recognition on Seb’s face when he heard the company name. She made a note to ask him if he was using any of the agency’s services at the estate.
“We have a few contracts for acts that have already been invited to the event,” Jess was saying. “If we can continue with the lighthouse location at least for this year, that makes it more appealing to the groups appearing and simplifies our staffing commitments.”
“That’s fine by me,” Seb said in that same flat tone he’d used when referencing red tape earlier.
“Great news all around,” Reed declared over the smattering of applause. “We appreciate it.”
Nearby, Holly caught a murmur of relief. She hadn’t heard anything that would give them reason to worry that Seb would remove that option. Just because he’d ignored committee mail didn’t mean he’d pull something so drastic.
Did it?
She thought again about the awkwardness this morning and that persistent worry of being blindsided returned with a vengeance.
“I need to step out for a moment,” Holly whispered to Vince. She grabbed her phone as if that was the reason. But she needed some space and silence to shake off the feeling that she was missing something vital.
She slipped away from the meeting, toward the restrooms, passing the pub’s small office. As she passed the slightly ajar door of the manager’s office, a voice stopped her cold. It was a voice she recognized from years of town council meetings: Nico Billings, Jess’s father-in-law.
He was one of the friendliest folks in town, but right now he was furious.
“There is no way Sterling gets away with this. That land is an invaluable treasure and a significant part of our history here.”
“I’m just the messenger,” another voice replied.
Holly realized Nico had his phone on speaker as the other man continued.
“The documentation was filed around noon. Sterling has shifted ownership of that land, lighthouse included, to a development firm.”
“He could’ve put it in God’s portfolio for all I care,” Nico snarled. “No one is building on that land.”
“It’s his property now.”
“There has to be something we can do,” Nico grumbled. “The Marion estate leased it to the town for ninety-nine years with the full intention of preserving it forever.”
She should not be listening to this.
She hurried on to the restroom, swiping a tear from her cheek.
Why would Seb do something like that except to hide an ulterior motive?
This kind of move was too reminiscent of her father.
At this rate, Seb could dodge any unpleasantness, claim he was divesting himself of the property, and not be blamed for any changes to the land.
No. Her stomach pitched and she thought she might be sick. Wetting a paper towel, she blotted her face and the back of her neck. She couldn’t go back out there looking like this. Couldn’t go back out there at all. She was too tempted to expose details she shouldn’t even know about.
Opening the bathroom door, she checked that she was alone in the hallway before she dashed out the back door.
She would text Vince to gather up her belongings. Right now, she needed to be alone and get her head on straight.
Trust was a constant struggle and Seb was challenging all the progress she thought she’d made. She rounded the building and headed across the street for the beach, eager for the pounding surf to drown out the swell of doubts and the ache of betrayal.
Her heart raced despite her best efforts to prevent the worst-case scenarios from running away with her. It was too late.
Everything circled back to one point: she’d let herself be fooled again. She wasn’t his guide, she was a diversion. A friendly, gullible shield he was using to hide a land-grab that would destroy the very history he’d claimed to admire.
It was her father all over again. The charmer with all the right words who looked her in the eye promising one thing while doing the opposite behind her back.
With this information, other details fit neatly into place. Seb hadn’t bought the Marion estate to find a quiet home. He’d bought it to expand his empire, and he was willing to use her to help win over the town.
Her mind reeling, Holly pulled her phone from her pocket, her fingers trembling. She knew what they had to do and they needed to get started right now. She called Vince.
“Where are you?” he said, his voice low.
“Doesn’t matter.” She sniffed. “We’re changing the angle on the Sterling profile. It’s not a human-interest piece anymore. We’re doing an investigation.”
“What? What happened? You sound—”
“I’m fine,” she lied, the tears stinging her eyes. “My focus was skewed. I’m heading to the office for some deep research.” Deep and overdue. She wanted to read that ninety-nine-year lease for herself. “We can talk tomorrow.”
“I’ll bring your things over.”
“Tomorrow is soon enough,” she said. She wasn’t fit company for anyone right now. “Thanks.” She hung up before he could ask anything else.
She’d take some time on the beach, let the sound and salt air clear her mind. And then she’d dig in at the office until she had enough information to ask the right questions. She had a story to get right, and she couldn’t let her heart get in the way of the headlines.
She took her responsibility to this community seriously. Transparency was necessary and the only healthy option. And Sebastian Sterling was about to find out exactly what happened when the Brookwell Bugle decided to shine a light into the dark.