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The rich Manhattanite girls I have dated cannot compare to Meg’s sweetness and kindness. Not to mention sexiness! I’m convinced there’s nothing Meg can wear that doesn’t look perfect on her, even her work uniform that she hates so much. She always looks like she’s been kissed by the sun.
I finally get to meet her sister, Mia, when I tell Meg I want to see the rest of Seaside. After an initial startle at the gigantic monster sleeping on their porch railing, I was properly introduced to Meg’s iguana Lizaard, accent on the “aard.”
Chuckling, Meg opened the door to allow me to escape the beast and introduced me to her sister. Mia’s a slightly older version of Meg and just as sweet.
“She hasn’t stopped smiling for days,” Mia tells Drew, as she elbows Meg. “It must have been a hell of a lunch date.”
“She’s got me pretty smitten too.” I wink at Meg who’s already blushing.
“What are you two up to today?” Mia asks.
“I thought I’d give him a proper tour of Seaside,” Meg replies. “Plus, I’ve been neglecting Sunny lately.”
“Who’s Sunny?” I ask. Mia and Meg exchange a smirk before Mia excuses herself and heads back inside their little cottage. “Have fun, you two.”
Meg takes my hand and leads me to the coolest little VW bug I’ve ever seen. It’s a total throwback to the ’60s, especially with the top down. I’ve forgotten how much I used to love cars. Living in Manhattan means having to take the subway or hire a driver to do the work for you.
“I bet you didn’t think I was a collector of classic cars,” she smiles, leaning against the driver’s side door.
“You never cease to impress me, little pixie.” I wink.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy drool over a little car before,” Meg grins, putting her hands on her hips as she watches me indeed drool over this thing.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been around classics like this one,” I admit, admiring the restoration of such an old car.
“I guess you don’t see many of these in New York, huh?” she asks, pulling the keys out of her pocket. “Can you drive a stick?” Suddenly I feel like a kid on Christmas who just got everything on his list.
“Yes,” I say, eyeing the keys as they’re tossed in the air and land perfectly in my hands. “Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep,” I say, knowing how some people are territorial over cars.
“I have one rule,” she says, as she walks over to me on the passenger side. “If you speed, you’re done.”
I open the car door for her. “Not a problem.”
Once we’re both in and I turn on the ignition, I have to force myself to keep some semblance of cool. I look over to Meg, who giggles, seeing my childlike giddiness. “What?”
“Nothing,” she shakes her head. “You just seemed so grumpy when I first met you, so to see you like this is, I don’t know, entertaining.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I say, as I pull out onto the main road. “I’ll find out what you geek out over and tease you just the same.”
“Good luck with that,” she replies, as she points where to go.
More and more, people travel to find places that are outside of big franchises and big cities, and Seaside is exactly that. The more I see of this place, the more I know my brother is going to want to close this deal. The town is small, but the quaint shops and local restaurants make it a huge attraction that we can easily profit from. It might be small but that’s the main appeal.
In a way, Seaside forces families, couples, and friends to spend time with each other. Yes, there are shops and local places to eat, but that’s about it. No huge attractions, nothing flashy or expensive to participate in. The busiest attraction is the beach, where guests get to make their own fun.
Some people pick the quieter places to sit and read, others bring pickleball or volleyballs and other sporting gear. It’s so simple that people get to decide what to make of their vacations. That’s something that makes Seaside what it is. I can’t say I’ve seen anything like this before, so it’ll be interesting to see what the team will make of it.
At Meg’s suggestion, we pull into a beachfront diner named ‘Seaside Surfy Turfy.’ It’s a beach-themed mom-and-pop diner with 80’s beach themes. The view is great, as is the food.
The whole atmosphere is so relaxed that it makes lunch meetings back home feel like walking into a minefield in comparison.
Back home, there were times when I wasn’t sure I was making the right move when the wrong one could end in disaster. But here, there’s nothing to worry about, nothing to cause stress. It’s kind of fascinating to me.
Halfway through our dinner, I get a text from Troy saying he’s taking the first flight out in the morning to see the place for himself. He’ll be here by tomorrow afternoon—and suddenly, I’m treading cautiously through a minefield again.
But this one could mean the difference between Meg hating me and who I really am, or her understanding my reasons for what I’m doing and sticking with me. I’m wishing for the latter.
“What’s wrong?” Meg asks. “You have that look again.”
