Chapter 19
MAX
I’d been sleeping peacefully at the B&B, honestly, better than I had in a long time, when a loud crash jolted me awake.
I shot upright, heart pounding.
Water.
That’s the first thing I noticed.
Still in my shorts and T-shirt, I stand up next to the bed, and my feet touch ice-cold water.
I grab my shoes and anything else on the floor, making sure to either set them on the bed or in my waterproof luggage.
I step lightly until I’m in the hallway and stop.
Water gushes from a pipe in the bathroom.
My wall is next to it, so that must be why it’s seeping through my room.
My brain is still trying to wake up, and with the darkness, it’s hard to figure out how to fix it.
I run downstairs and knock on the main suite.
It takes a minute before Brock makes his way to answer the door, his eyes barely open.
“A pipe just burst in the bathroom upstairs. Do you have buckets? Towels? Anything?” I ask.
The color drains from his face. He pushes open the door, wearing nothing but boxers and a T-shirt. He takes off past me and races up the stairs.
I meet him at the top. “What can I do? Should we turn off the water for a bit?”
Brock rubs his hands over his face. “Yeah, that’s our best bet. Downstairs in the control room. Chloe will show you.”
The panic is still there, but it looks like he’s doing what he can to stay calm. I hurry downstairs and we get the water turned off. Then I take as many supplies and towels upstairs as Chloe can gather, getting to work on the cleanup.
“How bad is it?” Chloe asks, walking over to Brock.
“Worse than I thought,” he says flatly. He disappears into one room and then goes to check on another. “It’s affecting the other two rooms as well. Let’s get this water cleaned up so it doesn’t ruin the rooms across the hall.”
I use the mop to soak up as much water as possible, getting the bathroom cleaned out.
“You don’t have to help, Max,” Chloe says, holding an armful of used towels.
I chuckle. “I’m not going to let you guys do this yourself. It’s two o’clock in the morning, and I’d rather help you get this figured out if possible.”
With only about a week until the busy season, at least from what I’ve been told, this is the worst possible timing.
“I think we’ll be okay,” Chloe says, though she doesn’t look convinced.
“Are you sure? I can help,” I say. “I know construction crews are slammed right now with everyone prepping for The Season.”
Brock nods. “I’ve done some remodel work before—on a car and a vacation home. I’m just hoping Mike can get here to fix the pipes first. Then we can move on to Sheetrock and everything else.”
“Do you need me to hunt down some fans?” I ask. Maybe if everything dries out properly, it won’t need a complete replacement.
“We have some in the attic,” Chloe says. “We’ll get those working now so it can dry out what we can save.”
We get things taken care of, and Chloe ushers me into a room that wasn’t touched by the flood.
“I’m so sorry this happened, and in your room too,” she says, giving me a sad smile. “We’ll give you a refund in the morning.”
Shaking my head, I say, “You couldn’t have predicted this would happen. Although I do think some of the pipes in this town could use a serious upgrade. I just fixed one over at Avery’s apartment.”
She gives me a reassuring smile.
I yawn. “I think it’s time to head back to sleep.
Thank you again for allowing me to stay in the—” It’s only then that I glance around to see yellow and black everywhere, with bees as the main decor.
I’m not sure how long it took to paint the black-and-yellow stripes on the walls, but I can’t look directly at it for too long, or I’ll go cross-eyed.
“Honeybee Honeymoon suite,” Chloe says with a little laugh.
“Brock’s grandparents owned and ran the bed and breakfast before he took it over.
His grandmother decorated, and as much as I’ve tried to get Brock to upgrade the decor, he’s one of those ‘if it’s not broke, don’t fix it’ people.
We get some interesting reviews on this room. ”
“I can see why,” I say, looking at honeycomb wallpaper. Every so often is hung a large, crocheted bee. A sign over the bed says, “Love is Sweet in the Honeybee Suite.”
“Thank you again for your help,” Chloe says. She waves before leaving the room to head downstairs.
I yawn, realizing how exhausted my body is. Nothing like being woken up in the middle of the night to a flood.
The sun is high in the sky when I wake up the next morning, and while I’m not as rested as I was the first few days of my stay, at least I got enough sleep to make up for the late-night cleanup session.
I dress and make my way downstairs, avoiding looking at any more of the kitschy pieces in the room. They creep me out a bit.
There are only a few items on the breakfast table, which is a change from the other mornings. I can understand why, though. No time to prep a lot of options during the aftermath of a flood.
I take a muffin and a glass of orange juice to the table.
Brock walks out of the kitchen, armed with several tools. “Morning,” he says, with a dip of his head.
“Morning. Do you need help?”
“I should be good for now but thank you.” He marches up the stairs, a squeak sounding with every step.
Chloe walks out, looking worried.
“Guten Morgen,” I say, trying to cheer her up.
“Good morning, Max. I’m so sorry about last night.”
I wave it off. “You’ve already apologized for something you had no control over.”
She frowns. “Well, my regrets aren’t quite done yet. In order to fix that side of the hall with all the bedrooms, we’ll need to move out the furniture. It will all be stored in the other bedrooms while we’re renovating…” Her voice trails off, but I can understand what she’s trying to say.
“I don’t get to stay in the Honeybee Honeymoon Suite.” It’s hard to keep a straight face when I’m saying something like that.
“We can help you find somewhere else to stay,” Chloe adds, her expression soft with concern.
I wave it off. “You’ve got enough to deal with. I’ll figure something out. I do have a small background in building, so you have my number if you need help.”
“Thank you,” she says, managing a small smile.
I pack my things quickly and leave some cash on the nightstand as a tip. Then I carry everything out to the car, so I won’t be in their way.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, I pull out my phone and start searching for accommodations nearby.
I go through several listings, calling the ones that don’t say closed at ten o’clock in the morning.
Nothing is currently available, which I find strange, given that the town isn’t bursting with people yet.
But then the question hits me—
Why do I need to stay here?
I could leave. Go somewhere else. Actually take a vacation.
And yet…I don’t want to.
There’s too much tied up here now.
The flats. The project. The few people who need help.
Avery.
Still, my chief business is back in New York. I can’t stay here indefinitely. Not without a solid plan and a firm decision made.
I grab my keys and drive to the coffee shop, hoping I’ll figure something out along the way.
I park in the small garage behind the building. As I walk around to the front, I hear voices nearby.
“…I’m not even sure what this place is supposed to be,” someone says.
I pause, staying out of sight.
“Isn’t it a gift shop?” another voice asks.
“No, I think it’s one of those organic places,” a third says.
“Why do you act like we don’t already have those?” someone laughed. “We need another restaurant or something—something to do besides the beach.”
“What are you talking about? We’ve got go-karts. Tons of stuff.”
“Yeah, but do we have a movie theater? Or a real nail salon?”
There was a pause.
“…No.”
Their voices fade as they walk away.
I stand there for a second, processing. Then I turn the corner and really look at the building. It’s the first time I’ve done so with this kind of perspective.
The sign reads Honey & Harbor in elegant, looping script.
No subtitle.
No “coffee shop.”
No “open.”
The windows are tinted, making it hard to see inside.
There’s nothing that tells people what this place actually is.
No wonder business is slow.
Inside, everything is clean, but it feels…empty. The booths are new, but there’s nothing on the walls to bring the charm and warmth of a typical coffee shop.
No warmth. No personality. Nothing pulling people in.
Sarah looks up and grins. “Hello, handsome. What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a black coffee,” I say.
She rings it up quickly, brushing her fingers against mine as she hands over the cup.
Unsurprisingly, there’s no spark, which only makes me want more time with Avery.
“Is your boss in?” I ask.
She hesitates, something shifting in her expression. “I think she’s upstairs. She’ll be down soon.”
“Okay, I’ll head upstairs. I’ve got some things to check on with the apartments anyway.”
I’m not sure why I feel the need to explain, but I head out and use the key I got from Maria to access the stairwell.
The sound of power tools hits me immediately. At least something is moving forward, even if it’s not my life.
Talia is cutting two-by-fours, headphones covering her ears. She doesn’t notice me at first.
“How’s it going?” I call.
She turns, shuts off the saw, and pulls off her ear protection. “Sorry—what?”
“Just checking in. Everything going okay?”
She gives me a thumbs-up, a small but proud smile forming. “Yeah. We’ve got a crew in from the next town over. Framing should be done today, and the Sheetrock crew is coming in tomorrow.”
I blink. “That’s…fast.”
She shrugs. “Turns out people show up when they’re given a real shot.”
Fair point.
“That’s great,” I say. “Anything you need from me?”
She hesitates. “Not right now. We’re in a good place.”
I tip my head toward the finished unit. “What about that apartment?”
“All the Sheetrock is up. Just needs sanding and paint.”
“Who’s handling that?”
She gives me a sheepish look. “I was planning to.”
“You don’t sound confident.”
She sighs. “I’m working on that part. Years of conditioning take a bit longer to unravel.”
I smile. “You’re doing great. This is already moving faster than before.”
Her shoulders straighten, and she gives me a non-scary smile for once. “That’s the goal.”
“I might need a place to stay for a few days,” I say casually. “The bed-and-breakfast had a pipe burst.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “And you’re thinking of staying here?”
“In this unit, maybe. I can move everything out of the way in the mornings.”
She looks me up and down. “Are you sure about that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I may not know everything,” she says, “but I know those clothes cost more than I make in a year.”
I laugh. “They’re jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Sure they are.”
“What are you two arguing about?” Avery steps into the space, looking between us.
“Apparently, I’m overdressed,” I say.
Talia snorts. “He wants to stay in here.”
Avery blinks. “You’re going to stay here? What happened to the bed-and-breakfast?”
“Pipe burst,” I say. “They need the rooms cleared out to fix everything before the people flood here.” Okay, that wasn’t the best choice of words.
“What about a hotel?”
“I’ve tried. Everything’s booked or not taking long-term stays.”
She looks at the space again, then back at me. Concern flickers across her face. “Are you sure this is the only option you have?”
I shrug lightly. “At the moment? Pretty much.”
“I’m just not sure how comfortable it will be here, and I don’t know if you really want to stay in a place like this.” She blushes and looks away. “I don’t want anyone to have a terrible experience in Penrose Beach. It’s become an important part of my life.”
There’s something vulnerable in her expression, but it disappears before I can fully place it.
“What are you going to sleep on?” Talia asks.
“I figured I’d find a sporting goods store or something. Maybe grab an air mattress for a while.”
“Are you going to get a sleeping bag too?” Avery asks. “Actually, we have a few blankets you can use.”
“Thank you, ladies.”
Talia crosses her arms. “It’s just…you look like someone who’s used to finer things.”
I frown. “My job pays well, but I’ve camped before. I’ve done plenty of things that weren’t glamorous.”
Avery looks thoughtful at that. “Did your job send you out here until the project is finished? Because it might be worth it to travel in from a neighboring town that does have a hotel with rooms available.”
I let out a small laugh. “Something like that. I think it’s important to make sure this place is done right after all this time. I mean, how long ago was your apartment finished?”
“Not very long ago,” Avery says.
I sigh. “And yet, your pipes are rusted, and the tiles are coming up in the kitchen. I just want to help where I can.”
“Are you sure you really need to do that?” Talia asks. “I’ve got things covered. It will be harder if I’m micromanaged.”
I smile. “I know. That’s why I hired you. But helping now and then won’t hurt. It gives me something to do.”
I catch the smallest hint of amusement on Talia’s face.
“What about that sporting goods store?” I ask. “Do we have one around here?”
Avery turns toward Talia. “Not exactly. It’s more of a surf shop, but I think they’d still have an air mattress in their small camping section. Just head down this road and up toward the north end of town. You’ll see it.”
“Thank you, ladies. I’ll let you get back to work.”
I walk out with a strange lightness in my step.
I’m still not sure what’s keeping me here. Maybe it’s a sense of responsibility to get these apartments finished. Or maybe I just enjoy the anonymity and the chance to do something different from what I’ve spent the last ten years doing.
The warmth of the sun stretches across the streets of Penrose Beach as I walk through town. A few people I recognize wave at me, and I wave back automatically.
It’s strange how familiar it feels. I hardly ever run into anyone I know in New York.
Usually, my mind is buried in profit-and-loss statements, meetings, or whatever crisis is happening at the company. I’ve spent so long with blinders on that I barely notice the world around me anymore.
But here?
People actually acknowledge at each other.
I walk into Sunny’s Surf Co. and glance around, surprised by how large it is compared to how small it looks from the outside.
A woman behind the counter smiles at me. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you have any air mattresses.”
“I think I’ve got one left,” she says. “Let’s go see if it’ll work for you.”