Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
His focus lands on the hotel, aptly named for the deathly drop leading down to the water. A devilish gleam sparks in his eyes. “Follow me.”
Epilogue
One year later …
* * *
“Low-income apartments were part of his campaign promise.” Shirley jabs at the park bench with her hot pink–painted index fingernail. “I didn’t vote to reelect him, but I’ll make damn sure Gump keeps his promises, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Some things don’t change around Polson Falls. Shirley’s grim determination to make Ferris Gump’s life hell is one of them. I smile at her energy. “You know, you should run for mayor.”
She scoffs at my suggestion. “I tried that once. Didn’t work out.”
“What?” I gawk at her. “You never told me that.”
“It was back in the ’80s. You think getting elected mayor as a woman now is tough?” She snorts. “People said I was too confrontational for politics.”
I bite my tongue. Sometimes I can get away with poking at Shirley if her mood is right. Today is not that day. But after three missed bingo nights, it’s still good to see her.
“Besides, do you have any idea how old I am now?”
“No, actually. I don’t.” But I feel like she’s lived ten lifetimes.
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” She waves me off with a cackle.
A little girl of maybe five squeals as she sails down the slide, pulling Shirley’s attention behind us. The park redesign started and finished within six weeks last year, ending in a ribbon-cutting ceremony that Garrett insisted Shirley be a part of, given it was her relentless voice that inspired the project. Though she wouldn’t admit to it, I know she loved it. Harper said the front-page article with her picture that Colin took is pinned to the wall in her suite.
“That’s Gertie’s granddaughter.”
“She’s cute. You know, for a kid.” A man who I assume is her father points out a nearby butterfly, and the girl chases after it, her hands in the air, heading toward a row of tall grasses and a lilac bush. “Does she know Grandma’s banging the Bonny Acres’ dog?”
“Not anymore.” Shirley’s grin is wicked. It always is when she’s downloading juicy gossip. “You’ve missed a few doozies. Let me fill you in.”
I cross the street toward the Revive Project. The safety fencing came down a few weeks ago when they completed the last of the outside work, and the finished product looks even better than the designs. Anyone who knew the building that stood there before can still see it hidden within—the color of the brick face, the shape of the second-floor windows.
The process to get here, though, wasn’t as pretty. Working next to construction for the last year has been noisy, dusty, and altogether not enjoyable, and I made sure Garrett heard about it daily.
But it’s almost over. Every condo unit was spoken for within a week of sales opening up. They’ll be move-in ready next month.
“Since when do you hang around past three o’clock?” I holler at the figure standing on the sidewalk where the laneway cuts between Murphy’s and the new building.
John the contractor looks up from his clipboard and grins. “When the boss is a tight-ass.”
“He does have a tight ass.” I wink.
Garrett appears around the corner from the back then. His flat look says he heard me.
My pulse kicks up a notch as it always does when I see him. If there is a honeymoon stage for us, we haven’t reached its end yet. The past year has flown by, and each day I learn more and fall more in love with him, more thankful for Bill’s selfish life choices that led me to Polson Falls, to Murphy’s, and inevitably, into this man’s arms.
“Any other delays I need to know about?” That question is directed at John, but Garrett pauses long enough to lean down and kiss me hello. I haven’t seen him since Wednesday.
“Do I get one too?” John puckers his lips.
Garrett shakes his head at me. “What have you done to my people?”
“Me? How is this my fault?”
“It’s not. It’s mine, for exposing them to you.”
“Hey”—I hold up my hands in mock surrender—“you’re the one who came to me on your knees, groveling for help to save your little project from total ruin.” Garrett was drowning in work, and John is too nice when it comes to getting answers, so I offered to make a few calls and track down some missing building materials and replace lazy city tradespeople with locals I trusted. I guess I was too proficient because somehow that turned into dealing with day-to-day construction site challenges, administrative paperwork, and an official job offer from HG that I’ve been sitting on for a month.
Garrett says it’s a baby-developer-in-training role, with potential to move up.
“From total ruin, huh?” His dimples pop with his amusement. “Is that how that all went down?”