Chapter 13 June
JUNE
After Margo’s revelation, the meeting began to wind down, as no one else had anything to add.
But June could feel the tension in the room had shifted, and Holt added Margo’s information to the board, his handwriting steady even if the room no longer felt that way.
Then the discussion started again in fits and starts until they wrapped it up.
People began to stand slowly, gathering papers, pushing back chairs, reaching for phones and car keys. The room’s tension did not disappear. It simply changed shape and became movement.
Zane closed his notebook first. “I need to go over a few things while they’re still fresh.” He pulled the chair back for Carmen as she rose beside him. “I also need to get some food. Would you like to join me?”
“Yes, I would love to,” Carmen said with a nod and turned to June. “I’ll see you at home later.”
“Enjoy your dinner,” June told them. “Try to put this out of your mind for a while.”
“We’ll try,” Zane said, unconvincingly.
Then Carmen and Zane left together, their voices low as they moved out into the hall.
“Do you need me to help clean up?” Harvey stood and stretched lightly before looking toward the refreshments table.
“Yes, please.” Margo nodded at once.
Harvey rolled up his sleeves without another word and started gathering cups, paper plates, napkins, and the remains of the snack trays with the quiet, practical ease of a man who had grown up in a family where people simply did what needed doing.
Willa moved to help him, as did Rad. The four younger people moved around the room with Ace, stacking the spare chairs behind the door and splitting up the tables.
June and Holt helped wipe off the tables until finally the room was clean again.
“Do you want me to help with those, too?” Harvey glanced toward the boards and then between Holt and Margo.
“I’ll take them and lock them up for the next meeting,” Margo told Holt. “The storage closet here has a lock, and nobody but the inn staff has access.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Holt thanked her.
Across the room, Ace had moved closer to Willa again, their heads bent together as they discussed something before looking up.
“If there’s nothing,” Willa said. “Ace and I are going to get the kids from camp and take them for pizza.”
“Do any of you want to come with us?” Ace asked.
“I will,” Rad said. “I’m starved, and it will be nice to finally get to go out with my son, even though he’s staying at your house tonight, Willa.”
“I’ll join you for pizza. We can discuss the camping trip for tomorrow, too,” Margo said and looked at Harvey. “Harvey?”
“Thanks, but I can’t,” Harvey told them. “I have to fetch my uncle from Gainesville.”
The room began shifting again as those plans settled into place. Suddenly, the room was clearing as keys appeared. Purses were picked up as the younger generation moved towards the door.
Harvey stopped and turned back to look at June and Holt. “Text if you need anything.”
“We will,” June called after him.
Once Harvey had gone, Willa, Ace, and Rad went through the door.
“Give me a minute,” Margo told them. “I’ll meet you at the car. I just want to have a word with Holt and June.”
“All right.” Rad nodded. “See you later, Dad.” He waved at June. “Night, June.”
“Night,” June said back.
Eventually, only June, Margo, and Holt remained.
“As you didn’t mention it,” Margo began. “I just wanted to know if you found out anything more about the bracelet?”
The question landed lightly, but June saw the instant effect it had on Holt.
It was subtle. Little more than a faint stiffening across his shoulders and the smallest pause before he answered.
Anyone who didn’t know him would’ve missed it.
But June knew him well enough to notice it.
She knew his expressions, his silences, the slight changes in his breathing when he was deciding what to say and what to hold back.
“As soon as I have something concrete,” Holt said to Margo, “I’ll let you know.” He gave a smile. “I promise.”
It was a carefully built answer. Too careful.
“All right, thank you.” Margo wasn’t fully convinced as her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t press. “I’d better get going. Thank you for tonight.”
“It was a good session,” Holt told her. And there it was again, that subtle tell that he was not being entirely honest.
June realized then, he’d realized what she had. While this was supposed to be a meeting of everyone laying their cards on the table and updating each other on whatever they knew, over half the room was holding back.
But then again, Holt was also holding back that closely veiled answer, “As soon as I have something concrete,” which wasn’t an outright lie; it was a deflection. It really said, yes, but I can’t divulge that right now.
When Margo returned, Holt was behind her, and the two of them carried the last board together. June stood before they reached the door.
“Goodnight…” Margo paused. “Sorry, do you want to join us?” She suddenly realized they hadn’t been invited.
“No, thank you,” June said instantly. She had too much on her mind to sit at the only pizza place in Sandpiper Shores that catered to families, and the place, in the summer, was always packed full of rowdy families. “You all go and have fun.”
“Okay,” Margo said and smiled, turning to go.
“Be careful tonight,” June told Margo. “And keep vigilant.”
Margo gave her a tight smile. “I will.” She turned and left.
That left June and Holt alone in the conference room.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.
It was familiar.
That was somehow worse.
June bent to pick up the last of her papers, though they were already in order. Holt gathered his folders and tucked the markers into the plastic tray.
“I still have Carmen’s car,” Holt reminded her.
June looked up at him.
“Yes. I know. That’s why I stayed behind.” She smiled at him.
His eyes met hers.
And her stomach clenched as his eyes darkened and the room seemed to shrink around them.
Neither of them spoke for a moment after that. A door slammed down the hallway, making them both snap out of the moment.
“Well,” Holt said, clearing his throat. “I think we should leave.”
Then they walked out together.
The inn’s evening traffic had picked up slightly, and the lobby held the soft movement and distant voices of guests checking in, staff moving through, and the quiet clink of dishes being cleared from the dining room beyond. By contrast, the parking area outside felt strangely still.
The sky had gone amber and blue over the water, with the last of the sunlight catching the tops of the palms and the distant line of boats in the marina. A breeze came in off the coast, cooler now, carrying salt and something fried from a nearby kitchen.
June walked beside Holt toward Carmen’s car, aware of him in a way she was trying very hard not to examine.
When they reached it, he stopped.
She did too.
For a second, she thought he had simply remembered something or changed his mind about the drive. Then he turned toward her, one hand resting on the roof of the car.
“Do you want to have dinner together?” Holt asked her across the roof.
June stared at him.
He shifted slightly, as though he was now aware of how sudden the question sounded.
“I mean, I’m on my own, and you’re on your own…” Holt reasoned, running his one hand through his hair.
Then June’s treacherous heart went completely wild.
It was absurd. She knew it was absurd. They were two grown adults who had once shared a marriage, a life, and enough history to fill a shelf, and yet one simple question had her pulse leaping as though she were twenty again and trying not to smile too quickly.
She made herself answer like a sane woman.
“Yes,” June answered, hoping she didn’t sound like a breathless teenager. “Why not?”
His face changed then, relaxing by degrees as a slow, sexy smile spread across his lips as if he too had held his breath waiting for her reply.
“Great.” He unlocked the car, and they slid in. “What do you feel like eating?”
“Italian?” June looked at him, feeling ridiculously happy and a little lightheaded. But she composed herself.
“Good choice,” Holt agreed.
The waterfront restaurant they chose sat right in the town center, tucked between a gift shop and a small art gallery, its broad front windows looking out over the marina and the last slanting gold of evening over the water.
It was not a fancy place. It was warm and family-run, the kind of Italian restaurant with dark wood chairs, checkered table accents, framed black-and-white photographs on the walls, and soft lamplight that made everyone look a little more softened by memory.
Garlic, tomatoes, basil, and baked bread scented the air.
A little bell rang each time the door opened.
Families sat at larger tables near the center, while couples and quieter diners occupied the corners.
The hostess led them to a small table for two near the windows.
June slid into her seat and set her purse beside her, suddenly aware that this looked far too much like a date for her comfort and not nearly enough like one for her safety. It hovered in that dangerous in-between place where the heart had room to get foolish.
Holt sat across from her, then glanced around the room once before looking back at her.
“This reminds me of that Italian place in Cambridge,” he remarked.
June’s breath caught for just a second.
Of course it did.
She smiled despite herself.
“It does,” June agreed.
It had been their Friday night thing.
No matter how much work they had. No matter how poor they had been, how exhausted, or how much reading was stacked against the next day.
On Fridays, they had gone there. Sometimes dressed properly, sometimes looking like two sleep-deprived students trying to pretend they had their lives under control. Always together.