Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
ELLIOT
We all think there’s a defining moment that shapes a person’s future.
There’s not one moment.
It’s a series of events that occur throughout our lives.
The person I was yesterday isn’t the same as I will be twenty years from now.
Not many guys think about the happily ever after when they’re young, but I’m pretty sure that I happened to meet the love of my life at the tender age of two.
I don’t think I can say that I fell madly in love with her.
We just loved each other. I believed she was my future and my everything until not one, but several events changed our lives.
At eighteen, I thought my life would be different. I planned on marrying the girl next door, living by the ocean, and having a few children.
I did marry the girl, but then destiny screwed with my life, and I lost her.
It’s been twenty-three years since I said I do. Less than twenty since the divorce and it feels like a lifetime since I let her go. She found happiness with another man. I’m no longer that teenager with dreams and an open heart.
All those moments I lived were so impactful they became a wound.
A wound so deep that I avoid certain things.
If I ever write a biography, I’d call it The Art of Avoidance.
I avoid relationships of any kind, settling down, and commitments.
I’m a drifter.
A ship that lost its anchor so long ago it keeps floating along the ocean. Well, more like flying around the world, but the result is the same. I visit my family, so they know I care about them, but I mostly keep my distance, so they don’t suffocate me.
I just arrived from Zambia. It was an almost eighteen-month trip where I helped build a hospital. The moment I arrived in San Francisco, I texted the family group chat to let them know I’m back on US soil.
For how long? I don’t know. It could be just a few days or maybe a few weeks.
No one bothers to respond immediately, but I’m not surprised that my phone rings while eating lunch. It’s Kyle, my best friend and brother-in-law.
“Hi,” I answer, setting my spoon on the napkin.
“Where are you? There’s a lot of noise in the background.” There’s no hello, how are you, or… he’s never been one to have a normal conversation.
“A coffee shop.”
“City? What city? I couldn’t find you with the fucking app. Did you change phones again?”
I sigh. If he could, he’d put a tracker on my ankle. My little sister gets anxious when she doesn’t know where I am. She should focus on raising her five children and dealing with her husband. Kyle is too fucking needy.
“I’m in San Francisco.”
“Huh, interesting.”
“Is it? You know the place well, I’m sure there’s nothing interesting here for you.”
Kyle and I met in Santa Cruz, a town just an hour south of the Bay area.
That’s where I was born and raised. His family owned a vacation home, but he’s part of the Maxwell family.
The Maxwells are one of the wealthiest families in the state, maybe the country.
I think his worst memories are buried somewhere downtown.
He’s better living in Evergreen, Colorado, far away from here.
“Don’t play dumb,” he snaps. “Why are you there and not here?”
“I’ll visit you soon, honey. You know you’re my one and only,” I joke.
“Fuck you. My wife wants to know how long you’re staying. She misses you—” He pauses long enough to make me want to hang up, but I don’t. “We all miss you, Elliot.”
Kyle used to be the clown of our friend group. He didn’t care what happened around him, but now, he sounds more mature than I do. It’s not like I haven’t matured.
My sister, Cassandra, swears I have Peter Pan Syndrome, but I don’t. There’s a huge difference betweennot wanting to grow up and avoiding my past.
“How’s Cassy? How are the kids?”
“You should come and visit us.”
“I’ll do it soon,” I promise, though soon can mean six months or a year, or maybe even two.
I adore my brother and sisters, and sometimes I miss my best friends. However, they’ll expect me to stay longer, and I don’t like to stay in one place for too long.
“What are you up to?”
If I knew, I wouldn’t be here, but I just say, “I’m still deciding.”
It’s not like a project is going to fall into my lap. Next week, I might make a few calls. “For now, I’m planning on taking it easy.” I don’t lie. I’m gently letting him know to fuck off.
“You can come and work for me.”
I laugh. “No, but thank you for the offer.” I’m tempted to tell him that we co-own his company, and we agreed I’d be a silent partner. Meaning, he runs it and makes monthly deposits into my account.
That’s how I’ve been running my business affairs for the past six years—since Mom, my sister, Dahlia, and two of her daughters died in a car accident. I close my eyes, sending a silent prayer for their souls.
“Your sister would appreciate having you around for more than a weekend.”
“Why don’t I call you when I decide where I’m going next. Say hi to everyone for me.”
“Elliot you?—”
I cut off the conversation before it gets too heavy. I love my friend, but I’m not in the mood to discuss my future, my choices, or his nonsense. I go back to eating when I notice a woman holding a tray walking around the dining room as she looks for a place to sit and eat her food.
There’s something about her that calls to me. Maybe it’s her posture, those eyes, or the frustration etched on her forehead. She’s beautiful but young. Too young. She could be my niece. Not many believe I have nephews and nieces who are in their early thirties.
If my niece Teagan were distraught, I’d love for someone to aid her. I rise from my seat and approach the frazzled-looking woman. “Would you like to share the table with me?”
She smiles, almost knocking me down to my knees. She’s even more gorgeous than I thought a second ago. Her gray-blue eyes are big and bright. It’s like staring at the ocean. I bet they’re bluer when she’s happy and look like a storm when she’s angry.
This kid is too young, just walk away.
“I don’t want to interrupt your meal,” she says with a sweet, gravelly voice that hits me in the groin.
Okay, maybe I need to look for a woman who can take the edge off. It’s been a long time since the last time I fucked someone.She’s not the one though.
“Don’t worry about me,” I assure her, planning on just picking up my tray and leaving the place immediately.
“Okay, but it’ll only take a few minutes. I’m a fast eater.” She sets up the tray on my table, and I pull out the chair so she can sit. She glances at me, gifting me another smile. “Thank you. You’re making me believe in humanity.”
“Because you lost hope?” I ask, taking a seat. “Please, don’t eat fast on my behalf. Take your time.”
“I always eat fast.”
“Why?”
“I grew up with six brothers. They’d scarf everything down. If I didn’t match their pace, they’d leave me without dessert.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Six brothers, huh?”
“Yes, and a baby sister. We’re a big family.” She fixes the paper napkin on her lap, squeezes some hand sanitizer, and then grabs a spoon.
While she’s eating, I study her. Brown hair with some auburn highlights, fine facial features, and her heart-shaped lips are tempting. She’s pretty and probably too young. She might be just fresh out of college.
“You don’t have to stop eating on my account,” she says.
I shake my head, wondering what it is about her that hypnotizes me. Since we’re sharing a meal, I extend my hand. “Elliot McPhee.”
She smiles, meeting it. “Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Fern. My mind is all over the place today. People are just… not very nice.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her politeness. “Anything I can do to help?”
After a long yet soft exhale, she says, “If you can find a construction company that can take on my project, maybe?”
“There are plenty in this area. I doubt any of them will turn down a job.”
“You’d think. I just finished a meeting with North Bay Construction company, and they shut me down when I said this is for a foundation, and I was hoping they’d donate?—”
“Wait, you went to one of the biggest construction companies in the Bay area asking for a donation, and they rejected you?”
“Try biggest in the state,” she corrects me with a smirk on her plumped lips. “And yes, I dared to ask them to work for me. Not that they let me say much.”
“Biggest company on the West Coast, but that’s not the point,” I argue with humor in my voice. “What in the world did you ask for that they shut you down?”
She sighs. “I made the mistake of mentioning the words charity and donation. Even before I could pitch my project to them, they ushered me toward the exit. Which is weird because aren’t construction companies supposed to woo their future clients?”
“Usually. Why did you flip the roles?”
“Who said it was my doing?”
“You.” I grab a chip from the bag and munch on it as I consider offering my services. I know a lot about construction and spend most of my time doing volunteer work. We could help each other. “Why don’t you tell me more about this project they rejected?”
She takes a bite of her sandwich. After chewing and swallowing, she explains, “I want a community with affordable housing close to the city. We have the lots, but before I can even tell the board what we’re doing, I need to have an architect willing to design them, and a crew?—”
Fern sighs in frustration.
“Take a deep breath. It seems like you have a big project on your hands, but you just haven’t found the right person to manage it.”
She grabs a napkin and wipes the corner of her lips and nods. “That’s why I went to North Bay Construction. However, Jonathan Smith shut me down and invited me to get the eff out of the company.”
Fern straightens her shoulders and tilts her head toward the door. “The CEO is an asshole. I swear he just agreed to see me because…”
She clamps her lips without finishing the sentence.
My jaw tenses. “Did he insult you?”
“He kicked me out of the building. He has quite a colloquial vocabulary. I bet if I had been there representing one of my brothers, he would’ve been trying to kiss my ass.”
Some people are just entitled assholes. But maybe I should be thankful, because I could take on that project and give myself some time to think about where I’ll be going next. It shouldn’t take me long to draw up some blueprints and plan a community. I’ve done it a few times before.
“Why don’t we finish our lunch, and I can follow you to your office. Then, you can tell me more, and I might be able to find the right person.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Just like that.”
I shrug. “Why not?”
She laughs. “Sorry, who are you?”
“I thought I already introduced myself. The name is Elliot.”
Fern can’t stop the laughter. “Well, that should be plenty to trust you with this project. What are your qualifications?”
“Well, for starters, I know the right people for that kind of job.” I wink at her.
She gives me a suspicious glance. “What do you know about construction?”
I show her my calloused hands. “Dad taught me from a young age so I could help him.”
“Though that’s helpful, I need more than a handyman.”
This woman might want my résumé before I can even learn more about the community.
I sigh. “I’ve worked in construction for more than twenty years.
I also have a degree in architecture and have a few engineer friends who might be able to give you a hand—for free. As long as your foundation is legit.”
She’s still not buying what I’m saying. I can see it in that doubtful gaze. “Are you pricey?”
“No, and if your cause is worthy, I might even donate my time.”
“You don’t have to. We can pay you, but?—”
I point at her food, interrupting what might be her pitch. “Why don’t we enjoy our lunch, and then you can proposition me. Maybe I’ll even do a lap dance for free.”
I wink at her, and her cheeks heat up.