Chapter Eight Grace
Eight
Grace
Grace hurried down the dock toward Luke’s boathouse the next afternoon, her stomach a knot of nerves and anticipation.
Luke was standing on his dock with his brother Finn, the two men staring out at the increasingly choppy water. Luke’s expression didn’t exactly scream confidence. “I’m not convinced this is a good idea, Grace. The front’s moving in earlier than I thought.”
“Yeah,” Finn said, raking his fingers through his curly brown hair. “Look at those swells.”
Grace followed his gaze across the lake. The water that had been relatively calm an hour ago was now white-capped and restless, and dark clouds were gathering on the horizon like an army preparing for battle.
“It’s just a little choppy,” she said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.
“Your new boat can handle it, right?” She nodded toward Luke’s dock, where his new boat bobbed in the ripples.
He’d built it himself. Five months, scrap parts, stubborn determination.
Not yacht-club pretty, but solid. Like everything Luke touched, it worked.
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not so sure.”
“Please, Luke.” Grace grabbed his arm. “The Blackwells are expecting me at two!”
He studied her face for a long moment, then sighed. “Let’s give it twenty minutes. Go see Sophie, she wants to debrief your little announcement last night,” Luke suggested, nodding toward the Cherry Blossom Book Shop. “I’ll keep an eye on the weather.”
Grace practically sprinted to Sophie’s boathouse-turned-bookshop, the familiar smell of vanilla and books greeting her as she pushed through the door.
The place was gorgeous, with floor-to-ceiling shelves curving perfectly with the old boathouse walls, painted in soft shades of sage melting into pink.
Light poured through the big arched window onto the built-in seat beneath it, upholstered in sage-green fabric embroidered with tiny books.
Every table gleamed with neat stacks of paperbacks, each one crowned by Sophie’s tidy little handwritten notes: This made me cry on the train in London…
in the best way. –S. Nearby, a corner dedicated to Solace Springs’ history displayed faded photographs of boatbuilders, families on docks and a cracked old journal that looked like it still smelled of varnish and sweat.
It was all perfect: warm, nostalgic, the kind of place people came to find themselves, or to escape. Grace’s chest tightened, just a little, because she wanted this too. Her own space. Her own success. Something that smelled of more than coffee and compromise.
“Grace!” Sophie looked up from where she was arranging books on a display table, her face lighting up. “Perfect timing. I just put the kettle on. You can grab a quick tea before—” She stopped, taking in Grace’s expression. “Oh no. What’s wrong?”
“Storm,” Grace said simply, sinking into the ridiculously comfy window seat as she stared gloomily out at the lake. “Luke thinks it might be too rough to get to the island today. He said to give it twenty minutes.”
Sophie grimaced then headed toward the refreshment area at the back of the bookshop. “Well, at least it’ll give us time to chat. I can’t believe you told the whole town you wanted to buy the inn last night. Your mom didn’t look happy.”
“Oh, she so wasn’t.”
“Mr. Entrepreneur did well,” Sophie said, swirling a teabag around Grace’s mug. “I couldn’t help but—”
Grace put one finger up. “Don’t go talking about how hot he is, I’ve already had half the town going on about it this morning in the café.”
Sophie pretended to zip her lips shut and walked over, pressing a steaming mug of cranberry orange tea into Grace’s hands. Grace took a sip, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. “God, I so need this. I hardly slept last night.”
Sophie sat next to her, tucking her feet under her as she blew at her tea. “Nervous about the meeting?”
Grace felt heat creep up her neck. “Yes. But I was also…distracted.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Distracted how?”
“Let’s just say I had a very interesting conversation with the guy I’ve been chatting to online, WildTrailGuide.”
“Are you telling me you were sexting your mystery business mentor?”
Grace buried her face in her mug, but she couldn’t hide her grin.
Sophie clapped her hands together. “I need details. All of them.”
“Seriously, it got so hot.” She leaned in close. “I even…you know.”
“Oh wow.”
“Does it sound weird, doing that with someone I don’t know in real life?”
“God no, loads of people do. Hell, people are even having it off with AI bots nowadays. At least this guy’s real.”
“As far as I can tell.” Grace sighed. “I don’t know, it felt right at the time but now…”
“Don’t you dare feel bad about it. It’s awesome. I mean, obviously I’d love you to meet someone in real life…Did I mention Reese Spencer’s pretty hot?”
Grace gave Sophie a look. “Knew you’d get it in somehow. You forgot to mention he’s a soul-crushing billionaire, too.”
“Is he soul crushing, though?” Sophie asked.
“I looked him up last night. He does a lot of charity work. Focuses more on wildlife and sustainable stuff than, you know, tech and cars. And his origin story is kind of…I don’t know, different?
He grew up poor in Canada. Single mom who did care work in a nursing home.
His dad died when he was young so Reese had to step up. ”
“That’s sad but lots of people have it tough. Doesn’t make the empire-building more noble.”
Sophie smiled. “I’m just saying, he didn’t start with money. He worked for this wilderness guide company when he was barely out of high school so he could help his mom with the bills. The owner took him under his wing. Taught him the business side of things, not just the outdoorsy stuff.”
Grace paused mid-sip of her tea. “And?”
“And when the owner had a stroke, Reese basically ran the company while the guy was in treatment. The owner didn’t have kids, so when he died, he left everything to Reese. The whole operation.”
“Lucky break for Reese, then.”
Sophie shrugged. “Maybe. But he took this tiny wilderness tour company and turned it into something huge. Said he wanted to show that a kid from Thunder Bay could do something special. He wanted to make his mom proud. Started buying up other eco-tourism operations, conservation land, built this whole network. The press started calling him the Golden Wolf—you know, because he’s Canadian, he works with wildlife, his hair…
and he’s got that whole predatory business instinct thing going on. ”
Grace rolled her eyes. “The Golden Wolf. Of course the press called him that.”
Sophie leaned forward, her brown eyes all sincere and Sophie-like. “One article says he still sends money to his mom every month. He set her up in a nice house, even bought the care home she works for and made it better.”
Grace threw her hands up in the air. “Fine, so he’s a good son, too. Stop trying to make me like him, Sophie.”
“I’m not! I’m just saying, he’s not some trust-fund kid playing with Daddy’s money. He worked his ass off, like you have. And all those conservation acquisitions? A lot of them seem tied back to wanting to honor his mentor’s legacy. The guy who gave him a shot when nobody else would.”
Grace stared into her teacup, processing. A kid from a deprived area with nothing. A mother working herself to the bone. A mentor who saw something in him. It was…uncomfortably relatable.
“Doesn’t change the fact he’s trying to buy my inn,” she said finally.
Sophie nodded. “True. But maybe he’s not just some villain with a credit card. Maybe he actually cares about these places. Like, genuinely cares.”
Grace thought about it. “Nah. Nobody’s going to become a billionaire without standing on a few billion heads on the way up.”
“Exactly what Luke said last night.” Sophie sighed and slumped back against her chair. “Honestly, between the two of you, you’re going to destroy my sweet na?ve ways.”
Grace laughed. “Hell no, Soph. We need it to balance our cynical selves.”
Luke appeared in the doorway then, water dripping from his jacket.
“Grace? If we’re going, we should go now.
Weather’s improved a bit and radar’s suggesting the next front won’t come for an hour, so I have a slot to get you there.
But fair warning: getting you back may be harder.
I have a tour to do so I won’t be hanging around, but I’ll aim to get back for four. ”
Grace shot to her feet, her heart hammering. “Right. Okay. This is it.”
Sophie squeezed her hand. “Go get your inn.”
But just as Grace was about to follow Luke out, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, seeing the school’s number flash on the screen.
Her stomach dropped.
“What’s up?” Sophie asked.
“Zach’s school. Never a good sign.” She put her phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Ms. Sullivan? This is Principal Sergeant. Zach got into another altercation just now over lunch. We need you to come pick him up immediately.”
Grace’s eyes went to Luke’s boat, then across the churning lake to where the island waited. Where the Blackwells were expecting her. Where her entire future hung in the balance.
“What happened?”
“He punched Tyler Morrison. In the cafeteria, in front of multiple witnesses.” The principal’s voice was tight with disapproval.
“Ms. Sullivan, this is the third incident this semester. We have a zero-tolerance policy on violence. He’s suspended for two whole days until Thursday, and I’d like you to pick him up now.
Frankly, we need to have a serious conversation about whether this pattern of behavior is something we can continue to accommodate at Solace Springs High. ”
Damn it.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Grace said.
“Thank you, Ms. Sullivan. We’ll see you soon.”
Grace ended the call and looked at Luke, who was already grimacing because he’d clearly heard enough to know what was coming.
“Another fight?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Luke raked his fingers through his hair. “Man. Z-dog,” he muttered, using his nickname for Zach.
“I know. I know.” She wanted to scream, to throw her phone in the lake, to do something with the rage and frustration and disappointment churning in her gut.
She checked her watch. The school was a five-minute walk.
Ten minutes to deal with Principal Sergeant and get Zach out of there.
Another five minutes to drag his ass back.
“Can you wait while I get him, Luke? Then we can head out?”
“Can’t your mom have Zach?” Sophie asked.
“No,” Grace replied. “I need to have a good chat with him. Mom will just take over and say all the wrong things. Anyway, it’ll be suitable punishment, watching his mom do a business presentation.”
“Yeah, will put him off fights for life,” Luke said with a smirk.
“Why don’t you just call the Blackwells,” Sophie said. “Reschedule. They’ll understand.”
“Will they?” Grace laughed bitterly. “ ‘Hi, sorry I can’t make our meeting about me taking on the commitment of running an inn because my kid can’t stop punching people’? That sounds super professional and trustworthy.”
“They’ll know anyway if you turn up with him,” Sophie said.
“Yes, but they’ll also see I don’t let things like that stop me from fulfilling my commitments.”
“Very true,” Sophie said.
“So?” Grace asked, turning to Luke. “Can you give me twenty minutes?”
Luke peered up at the sky. “Sure, Grace. Go get your kid.”
She wanted to hug them both. Instead, she was already turning to run toward the school, her nice presentation outfit completely inappropriate for sprinting, her carefully styled hair coming loose.
Time to face the music.