Chapter 2
Chapter Two
FINN
“ S he thinks she owns this beach. You should’ve put her in her place,” Chad scoffs.
I sip my beer, the cool liquid going down easy in this blazing heat. “She’ll warm up to me once I break through that hard shell.” I huff over the bottle at my joke. The sun must be getting to me.
“Bud. There’s no way mental Myrtle’s warming up to you. She’s been the ice queen for as long as I’ve known her.” Chad drops onto the beach blanket in front of me.
I can’t help the grin on my face, thinking of how I could make her warm to me. “You haven’t seen me turn on the charm, mate. Girls go nuts for this British accent.”
“Wanna bet?” Chad turns in her direction and points his bottle towards her. “I bet you can’t even get a kiss, let alone get in her pants.”
“Watch me. You might learn how to treat a lady. I thought all you Southerners were supposed to be gentlemen.” Though the sight of the curvy blonde with frizzy hair blowing in the ocean breeze fills my mind with ungentlemanly thoughts.
“Bud, you’re on. If you can warm up Myrtle, maybe she wouldn’t be on our case with the ball games every five fucking minutes.”
“Who’s warming up turtle Myrtle?” Cavill says. Another one of my dad’s acquaintances.
Hang out with them, Dad said. Get to know them, he said. It’ll be fun, he said.
I prefer the art studio over the beach. Besides bumping into the turtle girl, the day’s been so fucking boring. At almost thirty, I’m beyond games, but maybe I can teach these twats a few manners. If it wasn’t for my father, I wouldn’t be hanging out with these morons.
“Why do you call her that?” I take another sip of beer, watching the curvy blonde disappear into the distance.
“Because she’s weird. All she cares about are the animals. She’s like Dr. Dolittle or something,” Bentley, Chad’s cousin, the dentist says.
Cavill opens the cooler. “Chad’s pissed that she got him in trouble with the cops in our teens when she ratted on him.” Cavill opens his beer and points in Chad’s direction. “He burned down the beach signs her family erected. They thought they owned the beach, too. Whole family are do-gooders.”
“Correction, Cav. She tried to get me in trouble. Dad resolved things with the sheriff. She has no right to stake signs everywhere anyway,” Chad says.
“Isn’t she simply protecting the sea life?” I pinch my eyebrows, wondering what I’m doing with these idiots. They’re around my age, but act so much younger.
“The sea life belongs in the sea. The beach is for us. I’m not having some hippie chick tell me where I can play ball.” Chad scowls toward the girl as if he can fire lasers with his eyes.
“But mate, it’s for the turtles.” My voice comes off a little sarcastic, but I don’t mean to be. I admire anyone standing up for their passion. I attended many rallies with my mother growing up. She was always marching for some cause, whether it was women’s rights, poverty, more funding for the NHS. My mother was always leading the campaign until she sold out for the Chancellor of the Exchequer role. She wanted to change the world one bill at a time, but all she does lately is kiss the Prime Minister’s arse and raise taxes.
Chad huffs. “The turtles can breed farther down the beach. This is our turf.”
“You mean sand,” Bentley says with a chuckle, his teeth whiter than his cousin’s under the sun’s rays.
I don’t bother saying any more. As my mum always says, you can’t argue with stupid. My head shakes and I question what the fuck I’m doing here. Oh yeah, mother dearest sent me to work with my father because she didn’t want me embarrassing her while she announced the new budget.
The press would have a field day taking pictures of me spending Mummy’s money and living it up when there’s a cost-of-living crisis going on. I get it. Having to make cuts and raise taxes while you’re out spending money is just embarrassing.
Relaxing on the sun lounger, I try not to dwell on Britain and the bunch of tossers running the country. Except for Mum, of course. The sun’s rays warm my face and I close my eyes, thinking of the strawberry blonde and those bangers. Turtle girl has a decent rack, one I could bury my face in.
“Hey boys. ”
I open one eye and squint in the sunlight at two girls handing out flyers.
“You coming to the beach on Saturday for the fundraiser? We have lots going on.” The tall brunette hands me a leaflet.
I adjust my eyes to read the words kissing auction and chuckle to myself. “Are you girls in the kissing auction?”
The brunette smiles and bats her lashes my way. “Come and see for yourself.” She winks before she walks away, shouting over her shoulder, “And bring your wallet. It’s for a good cause.”
Upon glancing at the flyer, I notice a logo featuring a turtle and the words Magnolia Point Conservation Project. The words SAVE OUR SEAS in big letters. I fold up the leaflet and stuff it in my pocket with a smile on my face. Locals will do anything for a fundraiser.
My father gathers up the architectural drawings on the large conference table. “When we get the planning permission through, we’ll build the most luxurious apartments Magnolia Point has ever seen.”
I shove my hands in my trouser pockets and nod along, agreeing with my father, a land developer and realtor from Charleston and the most formidable man I know. Something I’ve learnt over the years is you don’t disagree with him without a solid argument.
“How are you finding Magnolia Point, son?” He slips the plans into a large leather portfolio.
I shrug a shoulder. On the surface, it resembles other wealthy resort towns he’s developed in the past, but in the last few months I’ve been here, I’ve noticed the charm and community this place has. Running my thumb under the suspender straps over my shirt, I gaze out the window of my father’s office on the second floor, overlooking Mug Life Coffee Shop, selling the best lattes I’ve ever tasted. Next door is the Coastal Charm Boutique, and farther down is my favourite Mexican takeout.
“I know it’s your birthday, but the main reason for this party is for you to network with some of Magnolia Point’s most influential people.”
I tug at my suspenders and let out a groan. “I’ll gladly hang out with Sullivan or Spence, but I’m not sucking up to that group of tossers again.”
“We need to get the Kilmores on board. Chad’s father’s on the planning committee.”
“His son’s an idiot, you know that, right? And the cousin, Bentley.” That’s so typical of Dad to use my birthday as an excuse to do business or network. Growing up, I wanted to spend time with my parents, but Dad would throw the most lavish parties and invite all his business buddies and their kids.
“I don’t know them well, but Bentley, the dentist, seems to be doing okay. He can brighten your teeth, that’s for sure.” Dad hints at a smile as he pulls a small box from his pocket and slides it across the smoked-glass table.
“What’s this?” I lift the leather and open the clasp. A bunch of keys rest on a velvet cushion.
“A birthday gift. If you’re staying in town, I thought you should have your own boat.”
“You’re giving me your new boat?” I lift the shiny silver keys in front of me.
“Turning thirty’s a big deal and I know I haven’t always been there for you, but I’m enjoying having you around. We make a good team.” He rounds the table and squeezes my shoulder .
“Wow.” I’m stunned and can’t think of anything to say. Of course, I know the real reason he enjoys having me around. I’m just a puppet in his master plan to manipulate everyone to his whim.
I’ll go along with it, because I’ve nothing better to do. My father’s never seen my art as a proper job and until I can convince him otherwise, I’m stuck playing his games.
“I’ll see you at the party tonight.” He shrugs on his suit jacket. “The boat’s in the marina in the usual spot. I've had it serviced and cleaned, though I haven’t used it much. Cordelia doesn't enjoy sailing.”