Page 21 of Billionaire's Coastal Haven

With my arm looped through his, we set off up the road. His pace is more like a mosey than a walk. The road angles up at a fifteen-degree angle, just enough that he’s breathing through his mouth before we pass the neighbor’s driveway. “How are you feeling today?”

“Same.” He sucks air through his nose. “Fine.” Another labored breath. “I should…be…back to work…next week.”

I bite my lip. He’s been saying the same thing for the last two months. It’s no use arguing with him. He doesn’t even have the breath to argue, but he won’t admit he doesn’t have the strength. In his mind, he’s a twenty-two-year-old who will bounce back stronger than before.

He doesn’t believe part of his heart doesn’t function at all. It can’t keep up with the demand of walking down the road. Especially not when he refuses to exercise unless I force him to walk with me.

My throat clogs. Will he ever be the man I knew? Or will he waste away because of pride?

I can’t let that happen. My job is to work behind the scenes and make him feel like he’s the man he has always been.

That’s what Mom did. According to everyone, she was the epitome of behind-the-scenes strength. While dad gave speeches, she organized luncheons, set up bake sales, and made everyone feel loved and seen without taking any credit. She did all the little tasks that enabled him to be the mayor Rainwater Bay needed him to be.

If I’m truly going to follow in their footsteps, I need him to be okay with the deal I’ve organized with Landon on the town’s behalf. First, he needs to listen to the details and not jump to the next thing on his mental list.

“I need to tell you something, but I need you to promise you will listen before you react.”

His nose scrunches. “That’s the worst way to start a conversation. Are you moving?”

“No. What? Why would you ask that?”

“Why else would you tell me to listen before I react? Last time you said that was when you thought you’d go to school in Colorado instead of taking the scholarship to the University of Washington. If I hadn’t reacted, you would have made a huge mistake, moving that far away.”

I squeeze his arm. “I’m not going anywhere. The Webbers sold the Reeves estate to a developer named Landon Prince. That’s my news.”

“Prince? There was a Prince who tried to buy salvage rights a few years back. Is it the same guy?”

“His son. Do you remember the day I came crying to you about the mean boy who told me I could never be a senator?”

He pats my back. “I remember. No need for you to cry over a thing that wasn’t for you. Just like that school in Colorado. No point in struggling to earn a senatorial seat, Baby Girl, when my job’s waiting for you.”

I wouldn’t have minded the hard work, but I understand Dad’s perspective. Rainwater Bay needs me. But that’s not the point of our conversation. Landon is. “That boy grew up and bought the estate.”

“It’s an eyesore. Why didn’t you tell me when Webber notified the Heritage Society?”

“Landon and Webber went to the state, so we didn’t know until they finalized the deal. If they hadn’t signed the papers at The Bright Spot, we may not have known until the check for back taxes landed at Town Hall.”

“Landon, huh? Pretty cozy to be using first names. What does he think he’s going to build?”

“He’s going to renovate it into a resort. That’s what the town council wants.”

Dad’s cheeks flush bright red. “Over my dead body.” He fists his hands at his sides and his breathing accelerates.

“It’s okay.” I use my most soothing voice. “The council voted. The resort was their stipulation to grant permits. And honestly, I think we can use it to Rainwater Bay’s benefit. Businesses are struggling, Dad. If we don’t do something, I may be mayor of a ghost town.” I cringe to hear Lucky’s phrase come out of my mouth, but she’s not wrong about the direction we’re taking.

“They’re wrong.” He stomps his foot. “This isn’t a resort town. We want to stay small, off the beaten path. That’s what’s best. You should have called me before they voted. I’m disappointed in you.”

I struggle for words to respond. I didn’t expect him to be so upset. “They didn’t give me time. Lucky motioned for the vote, and they passed it immediately.”

“They can’t do that. I won’t allow it. Get my phone.” He pats his pockets but comes away empty. We left it at the house. He turns back down the hill. “I’m using my veto to stop this nonsense.”

I tug him to stop. “At first I didn’t like the plan either, but I met with Collin and Archer. They’re on board to help with the renovation. To keep it small and tasteful while making the council happy. I think it’ll be really good for us.”

He glares into the distance. “That house has only ever been a heartache. Reeves never should have built it. Lording over everyone like some troglodyte.”

“That’s not what troglodyte means.”

He jerks his arm from mine. “I don’t need a grammar lesson, young lady. I need my phone.”