Chapter 15
“I ’m sorry, you’re going to have to explain that to me again,” Gregory said over the din of clanking metal, buzzing saws, and myriad other construction noises.
Charlotte was having a hell of a time explaining the concept of a photo wall to Gregory. She stood by his side and spread her hands across the in-progress mural in front of them, a realistic seascape that took no small amount of inspiration from Lisa Frank with hints of colorful mermaids in the background and the outline of a kraken in the water’s depths. It was a work of art—a unique, instantly recognizable work of art guests would pose in front of and share online.
“It’s a wall people will pose in front of for photos.” Charlotte distilled the idea down as much as she could. “Maybe someone will nickname it. Like, one of the walls in a DreamUs park is called the bubblegum wall and people post pictures with it using the hashtag bubblegumwall.”
Doubt swept over Gregory’s face. “Because it’s made of bubblegum? Like the one in Seattle? That doesn’t seem sanitary. Or Instagrammable.”
“Ew, gross,” Charlotte said. “No, it’s named that because it’s the color of bubblegum. Here, let me show you.”
She stepped closer until their arms brushed, and she unlocked her phone. After a few seconds of typing in the hashtag she had a wall of photos showing all kinds of people posing in front of the brightly painted wall.
“Here, look.” She handed her phone to Gregory—or tried to, anyway. Instead of taking it, he cupped his hands under hers and lifted her phone up. It seemed like he found excuses to touch her in the same way she did with him. Nothing obvious, small moments here and there that could be excused as unintentional or unthinking. She insisted to herself that she was imagining things, but that was hard to believe when the warmth of his hands was against hers.
Right as he moved his hand to scroll through the images, a notification of another email from Chad appeared at the top of the screen. He’d gotten back to Charlotte’s breezy nudge with a heads-up about potential work at Dreamland Paris; this must finally be the job posting. Charlotte raised her thumb to dismiss it so quickly she might have sprained it, feeling gratitude to her past self for turning off preview text for her messages and emails ages ago.
“Chad, huh?” Gregory asked while using his finger to move through the feed of images. “I saw a recent update from him on LinkedIn about being settled in Paris for DreamUs.”
Charlotte could hear the unasked question: Why was Chad emailing her now ? She felt guilty thinking about another job opportunity in the middle of so much work at Lands—not because of how she noticed the softness of Gregory’s hands under hers. “Yeah, we’ve been trying to connect about some opportunities. You know my contract’s only through the opening of Under the Waves.”
Gregory stopped scrolling, the muscles on his other hand tensing under Charlotte’s. “Right. You have to keep your eyes on the horizon.” He cleared his throat and erased the flatness. “Now, here, I should have said I understand that people take photos in front of the wall, but why are there hashtags and why do we need one? I don’t use social media much.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“I assumed since I didn’t see any of your—” Damn it. She’d basically just confessed to looking him up across social media.
Gregory lifted the corner of his mouth. “My what, Charlotte?”
Yep. Busted. “Your accounts, okay? I looked you up. For business reasons.”
“That was almost convincing.” He was fully smiling now, still holding Charlotte’s phone with her. “But I can’t give you too much of a hard time, because I looked you up, too. From my private Instagram account without my name on it. Pull up the search.”
Charlotte, confused by this turn of events, followed his instructions. He reached his thumb over hers to type in “gbinz92” and the account that came up was private, but Gregory standing on the top of a mountain in what appeared to be in head-to-toe Patagonia, with a beard , smiled out from the profile photo. “If you promise not to make fun of my username, you can follow me. I mostly use this account to keep up with others and news.”
“I won’t make fun of the username, promise.” Gregory had continued to open up as the weeks had passed but Charlotte knew this was a big step for him; she wouldn’t trivialize it. But she had to ask. “What about that beard? Am I allowed to comment on that?”
“No, absolutely not.”
“Okay. But just so you know, it suits you.” The profile picture was so small but she could see how much the beard, the pullover, all of it suited him. She now longed for him to let his evening stubble keep growing. Overall hotness aside, he looked content. A huge smile split his face in the photo.
“Uh. Thanks. I really liked it.” Gregory lifted his hand to his cheek, marked with a light blush, as if remembering having a beard. “Now help me out. Why do we want a hashtag for this wall?”
Charlotte took the hint. No more beard talk. She pressed FOLLOW on his account and got back to business, noting his use of “we.” Gregory was becoming more invested in Lands with more than only money. “Photo walls are aesthetically pleasing, and people like to take fun photos. We’re playing into a trend created by fans and when companies are overt about doing that, it can be a turnoff, but this is the first official photo wall in Lands. We won’t push it. We’ll let this gorgeous mural speak for itself and let it be a moment of discovery for everyone.”
Gregory walked closer to the mural. “But we’re hoping they’ll make, I don’t know, the ocean wall . . . a thing?”
“Exactly,” Charlotte said. “Except, it’s not gonna be hashtag the ocean wall.”
He looked back over his shoulder. “What are your picks?”
“I leave it up to the people. We’re making art and putting it in their hands. Like this.” She held up her phone and snapped a quick photo before Gregory could protest. The midafternoon light was soft on the cloudy day and he was a sight in his suit, tight-fitting pea coat, and the safety gear the construction site required.
“Even with the mural only halfway done, it’s looking perfect.” She didn’t mention how Gregory’s presence in the photo enhanced it; she couldn’t wait to see what the fully painted wall would do to his green eyes.
Enough of that , she thought. Focus on work. Do not mix work and relationships together. “So, you’re clear on photo walls now, right?” she asked and started walking toward the Manta construction.
“As clear as I’m going to be.” His legs were so long it only took him two steps to catch up with Charlotte.
They walked past a towering arch covered in unpainted swirling shells and graceful kelp carved from wood. It led into an empty structure with a dome roof right now, but day by day it was looking more like the mermaid palace her aunt drew. Mermaids would be inside, waiting to meet and interact with guests from their thrones—mermaid royalty who had been granted the ability to breathe air, obviously. Eventually they would add a tank so they could have swimming mermaids, maybe some synchronized swimmers, but that was for down the road. Charlotte put it on her ongoing list of experiences she’d like to add to Under the Waves. That particular list sat alongside another list of potential experiences for the whole park in the years to come. She reasoned that it made sense to keep the list going even if she didn’t oversee the execution of everything herself.
The mermaid palace was so far along and the Lost City’s entry was taking shape. Beyond the swooping art nouveau–style lines of the entrance, guests would wait in a queue that was part “moody under the water” vibes and part science lab that talked about the discovery of the Lost City of Atlantis and how this ride through the ruins was so remarkable, they’d decided to make it a tourist offering, inviting all the guests to come see the remnants of the great city and help protect a sacred artifact. Charlotte’s lips curved as she recalled explaining the concept of a dark ride to Gregory. He’d thought the words indicated a horror-themed ride, which wasn’t an unreasonable thought, plus some dark rides were scary. They were essentially an indoor ride in a guided vehicle through a themed environment, and that themed environment could be scary.
But now Gregory was using the ride terminology like a pro, and Charlotte was a proud teacher—a proud teacher who’d fallen behind. She jogged a few feet to catch up with him.
“It’s wild to see how fast the coaster is coming along,” Gregory said. They’d made it to the ride’s footprint where framing and track had indeed multiplied at shocking speed, feeding right into the tunnel in the man-made lake. Besides local construction crews, they had engineers and contractors with experience from some amusement parks in Ohio who Gregory had persuaded to come work at Lands and between them all, the coaster was cooking.
“I’m impressed,” Charlotte said.
Gregory pointed to the left at what would be the loading area. “Was that even there two days ago?! I realize this is probably pretty typical for construction at DreamUs parks and I’ve seen some real estate developments grow out of nowhere to complete in no time, but this is still blowing my mind.”
“I’ve seen a lot of rides come together, but this is kind of blowing my mind, too. I know we, thanks to Ever Fund, threw a pile of money at all of this”—she gestured generally at Under the Waves—“but it’s more than that. You pulled a solid crew together.”
Gregory lifted a hand to protest. “I couldn’t have done it without input from Marianne, Frank, Emily, and you.”
“Don’t be so modest. This site has come together in fragments before you. You brought chaos into smooth-running harmony.”
“Harmony. Poetic.”
“Don’t be sarcastic, I’m paying you a compliment.” Charlotte nudged him with her elbow and Gregory glanced down at the action, his expression unreadable, in its default grumpy look. Her comment was genuine; he’d made things happen from the first day he started work at Lands and this was the result. She added, “The crew seems super into their work here, like they’re busting extra ass. Some of them have known my uncle for their whole lives and came here as kids and now bring their kids here, so I bet that’s part of it, too.”
“I also might have said yes to a rate that reflected the rush.” Gregory was protective of Ever Fund’s investment—essentially his mom’s investment—but he wasn’t a miser. Charlotte noticed he had the sense for when to spend money and when to pinch pinnies in the right ways.
“Speaking of saying yes to things”—Gregory turned to Charlotte—“I have an idea to run past you.”
He had made some helpful suggestions lately—a plan for overflow parking, developing seasonal versions of the popular cinnamon buns, figuring out a crossover with the local, popular renaissance faire—so Charlotte was optimistic to hear what he had to say. “I’m all ears.”
“Great. We know Under the Waves is going to be a success. The projections you put together based on the performance of thrill rides at other parks in the state are encouraging. I did have to adjust them slightly to account for those parks having more than one thrill ride—many more than one,” Gregory said.
“Yeah, well, they’re fantastic but they’re amusement parks,” Charlotte commented. “It’s a different crowd.”
“ ‘Crowd’ being the key word. They draw in many more thousands of guests each year.”
“I know Lands could eventually use more thrill rides. We’ve been over all of this, Gregory,” she said. Charlotte didn’t like where this was headed. She and her family had had a few conversations with Gregory, even a formal meeting, discussing what set Lands apart from those parks and why those differences mattered. They’d always known they weren’t going to pull the thrill-seeking crowd away from the fastest, highest, or whatever superlative their newest roller coasters could offer. Any ride they added needed to be part of the story in whatever land they built it in.
“I’m not saying we should try adding random roller coasters—we don’t have the budget or time for that—but what about some smaller, more accessible options for the sake of moving bodies through the gates? Maybe just until Under the Waves is ready.”
“Okaaay,” she said, crossing her arms. “What did you have in mind?”
“Quick wins, that’s what I have in mind,” he said, his body tensing. “We have more than enough space in the meadow for a few rides. Bumper cars, a scrambler, maybe a tilt-a-whirl. We could design special tickets and Quinn and Holly could come up with fun-fair food items.”
Charlotte ground her teeth. “You want to set up bumper cars in Bluewhistle Meadow?!”
“Or something like it.”
“Lands of Legend is not a fucking weekend carnival, Gregory!” she shouted, and at that moment, the sounds of construction paused. Her voice rung out across the site and everyone tried to pretend they hadn’t heard what she said and weren’t looking at her. Frustration was making her heart race and her arms vibrate. Charlotte had thought Gregory was getting on the same page and she was angry with herself for misreading the situation.
She lowered her voice. “I’m too pissed to have this conversation like a calm human right now, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home for the day to hang out with Madmartigan and chill out.” She started to walk in the opposite direction.
“Charlotte, wait. Before you go, you’ve mentioned Madmartigan a handful of times, and I have to know: Who or what is a Madmartigan?”
“Madmartigan is my cat, named after Val Kilmer’s character in Willow .”
Gregory’s face was blank.
Charlotte gasped. “Wait, you’ve never seen Willow ?!” Gregory shook his head.
She wouldn’t normally take offense to someone not seeing a movie; instead she would be excited about them getting to watch and experience it for the first time. Not at this moment. She was livid on director Ron Howard’s behalf that Gregory had never seen one of the best fantasy movies of all time. “Of course you haven’t. It’s a fun movie and you don’t understand fun.”
Charlotte inwardly cringed at the juvenile comment but it was too late. The baffling thing was, she’d noticed Gregory react to it, as stupid as the comment was. He appeared hurt.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean that.”
He averted his eyes to anywhere but her. “No, it’s okay. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it.”
“It doesn’t mean anyone who’s said it, including me, was right.” She thought Gregory could be stuffy, but after spending time with him, she didn’t truly believe he wasn’t fun. She saw glimpses, knew it was inside him to play.
Gregory shook his head as if to shake the thought off. “It’s okay. I know I have my moments. I am wearing a suit with a high-visibility vest right now.” He gestured down at himself.
“That you are,” she agreed. “Now, I really am going to leave for the day and cool down. I didn’t mean what I said about you not being fun, but I want to calm down before we keep talking about other additions. I understand where you’re coming from. I don’t want to, but I do get that things need to make money. But this isn’t the way. We can’t make changes that cheapen what Lands is, what Frank and Marianne dreamed of and built.”
Gregory seemed like he wanted to say more but was holding it back. “I know. I’m only trying to find the best path forward that is also profitable. Let’s talk more tomorrow.”
* * *
Later that night after some pouting, chatting with Melanie, a comforting pizza from The Dragon’s Breath, and even more comforting cuddles with Mads, Charlotte had calmed down. She picked up her phone one more time before she settled under the covers. She usually only texted Gregory about things like purchase orders, but she wanted to smooth over the edges.
Charlotte: For the record, I do like carnivals.
A reply came back within thirty seconds.
Gregory: I didn’t think you disliked them.
Gregory: For the record, I think I would like 80s fantasy movies.
Charlotte: Hmm. You might? I don’t know.
Charlotte: Glad we cleared both of those things up.
Gregory: Me too.
Three dots appeared and then disappeared. Charlotte wondered what else was on his mind that he was obviously hesitating to say when another message came through.
Gregory: Maybe you could show me Willow sometime?
Charlotte sat up in bed so fast that she startled Madmartigan, who was getting snuggly by her feet. She recognized Gregory’s olive branch and she would grab it.
Charlotte: I WOULD LOVE TO SHOW YOU WILLOW.
Charlotte: Ahem.
Gregory: We’ll find time soon.
Charlotte: Perfect.
Gregory: See you tomorrow. I expect to see photos of Madmartigan too.
If Gregory fawned over photos of Mads, Charlotte was done for.
Charlotte: See you then.
Gregory:
Charlotte: Is that supposed to be a bumper car?
Gregory: See, I can be fun. Funny.
Charlotte:
Gregory using emojis. The wonders never ceased.
She put her phone in “do not disturb” mode and tried not to overanalyze a possible movie night with Gregory. Not a movie night. A date. And while she did that, she opened his Instagram. He didn’t have many posts. Most of them were of a relaxed Gregory from years ago, usually outside, glorious facial hair covering his cheeks. She glanced at their mutuals and it was only two accounts: the official Lands of Legend account and LegendDucklings, the account tracking ducklings at Lands in the springs, the one Charlotte had shown him on the day they met.
Charlotte thought she might be catching feelings. Feelings that didn’t understand she’d be moving away after Under the Waves opened.