Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
He’s a good kid, and I know if something does happen to this place I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he has a place to go. It’s one of the main things that keeps me pulling up the email offers I’ve gotten to sell this place. If I gave in, I could find myself somewhere else to live here on the island. Help Peter get through school. I’d give anything to be able to ask my grandma what I should do.
3
Liam
When I finally find the entrance to the Mermaid, the sky has gotten dark. It’s a combination of the sun setting and the clouds rolling in. Kathy already called me to say that I have to get off the island in the next twenty minutes or I’m going to have to stay the night. It took me more than that just to get to the damn place. It’s so far off the main road, and none of these stupid streets are signposted. I guess they just expect people to find it. No wonder her business is failing. Nobody can find it. The place is literally next door to my resort, but there’s not one good way to get to it.
My pilot sends me a text from the mainland saying he’s getting hail and has to put the plane in the hangar.
“Fucking great,” I say through clenched teeth.
Then another text pops up from the helipad. They’re packing it in since the storm is moving faster than they thought.
I take a deep breath, trying not to let this get to me. I need to remember why I’m here and take care of business. So I have to stay a night on the island? I’ll be out of here at first light. In the meantime, I need to close this deal. Then I can sleep like a baby and never come back.
I get out of the car and feel the first drops of rain. I grind my teeth and forge ahead through the line of trees. The only thing I can see from the road is the sign, and even then the place is hidden behind a canopy of old water oaks and Spanish moss. I walk along the sand path and curse it as I get dirt in my dress shoes. Good thing I have a pair of flip-flops in my bag. I’ll need them after stomping around out here.
When I break through the foliage I get my first sight of the Mermaid and I stop in my tracks. It’s not what I expected. I imagined an old rundown building that was practically falling in. But it’s nothing like that. It’s a white cottage with wooden shutters and bright flowers planted everywhere. There’s a hand-painted sign above the door that should look cheap but is actually charming. The walkway is lined with seashells, and smooth rocks lead up to the front steps. To the left and right of the main cottage are small boutique rooms that face the ocean. Large palm trees offer shade, and I can even spot a couple of hammocks in them. The beach here is just like the section I have. It’s flat with white sand, and clear blue water laps lazily as the tide rolls in. The sky is darkening, but still the Mermaid looks like an uncovered jewel on a tropical island.
“Damn,” I whisper to myself. How is this place not packed solid every day of the week?
As much as I hate to admit it, it’s better than the hotel I’ve created. But maybe it’s because it’s so different. Then suddenly I’m angry with myself at the thought that this place is anything but a roadblock on my way to success.
I clench my fists at my side and go through the front door. Inside I find a small reception space with a table next to it. On it are little jars of preserves and dips for sale. I ignore the cute display and personal touches and look to the double doors that lead right out onto the patio. It’s inviting, even as the sky darkens further and the first sounds of thunder echo in the distance.
“Can I help you?” I glance back to the desk to see a young man in a baggy T-shirt and messy hair standing there with his eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m looking for Marvin Mitchell,” I say. That was the name listed on the deed and the person I need to speak with. It doesn’t matter if this teenager is left running the place, I want to talk to whoever it is that can sign this place over to me. And it’s not some punk kid.
“I’m sorry but he passed away. He and his wife Adora.” The kid’s eyes are sad when he says it, and I wonder if he’s their grandson.
“Too bad. Are you in charge?” I should have said something nice, but I forget to be polite when there’s something I want.