“Thrilling,” Lexi teases. “And to think you left the fast pace of the legal world behind.”

“Wait,” I tell her, finding a file with a recent date buried in a stack of older documents. “I think I have something.”

I scan through the planning submission. Beachfront land… Three acre lot… Building permits… Lodging and food/beverage service…

The words sink in. Undeniable.

“Well?” Lexi asks. “Is it as bad as you thought?”

“No,” I answer grimly, taking in the Callahan Group stamp on every page—and Ash’s signature, scrawled at the bottom. “It’s worse.”

Beneath the permit applications, there’s a glossy prospectus: an artist’s rendition of the finished resort. It’s beautiful: gleaming, modern buildings arranged around a huge pool, with a cute cabana bar, a swanky restaurant overlooking the water, even tennis courts and a small gym set off to one side. The complex is huge, dominating the whole stretch of beachfront land.

I lay out the pictures, looking for where Rose Cottage would be next to all this luxury vacationing. But it’s not there.

Ash has wiped it off the map completely.

My shock turns to anger. He didn’t even plan around me. He just assumed, what—that I’d roll over and sell him the land? That he could literally bulldoze Nana’s cottage, and all my dreams?

Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Lexi?” I snap back into action, going to make copies of all the paperwork. “You still there?”

“Wha?” She sounds sleepy. “Oh, yeah, I’m here. And if Harper has anything to say about it, I’m going to be here at my desk until the day I die.”

“Good, then maybe you can do me a favor. I need research on the Callahan Group and their properties. Any issues with planning or permits.”

“Ooh, you sound pissed.”

“I am,” I glare at the map, determined. “And could you please pull any recent applications in Beachwood Bay too? I need all the information I can get.”

“You’ve got it, babe.” Lexi sounds cheerful. “That bastard is going down.”

“Not so fast,” I stop her. Despite everything, I still feel a pang of hope in my chest. These plans were filed before we got to know each other. Maybe he’s changed his mind. Maybe there’s still a good explanation. “I just want to be prepared.”

“Whatever you need,” Lexi promises. “Good luck!”

I drive back towards home, trying to think of what I’m going to say to Ash when he comes to pick me up for dinner, but I’m too riled up now to even wait another minute. As I pass the turn to his brother’s place, I find myself yanking the wheel, pulling a U-turn on the sandy coastal road and speeding down the street.

I pull up outside Dex’s home: a big, modern house right on the beach. It’s all glass and white concrete, designed with stunning architecture, but right now, all I can imagine is this place times a hundred, dominating the entire shore.

No more overgrown back yards and windswept dunes, no more quiet, winding lanes. Everything about Beachwood Bay I’ve always loved, razed to the ground.

My anger grows.

I get out of the car and stalk to the front door. I ring the bell, my heart pounding. I’ve performed a hundred mock-trials, and even taken basic questioning in the courtroom, but I’ve never cared about the answers so much as right now.

I need Ash to tell me I’ve got it all wrong.

I need him to show me he’s not this kind of man.

“Hey, Noelle!” Alicia opens the door. She’s dressed casually, in a bikini top and cute blue shorts. “Great timing, I was just going to call you.” She steps aside and ushers me inside.

“You were?” I follow her, still caught up in my anger and all the discoveries I’ve made today.

“About the wedding cake?” Alicia reminds me. “If you still think you’ll have time, I mean. I’d love to sit down this week, maybe talk about flavors and decorations. I have a whole theme book.” She laughs self-consciously. “Listen to me, I never figured I’d care about a big fancy wedding, but it turns out, I actually have opinions about tulle versus taffeta!”

“No, that’s great.” I quickly pull myself together. “I can make some samples to start us off. Maybe Thursday afternoon?”

“Perfect!” Alicia beams. “Ash is in the office,” she adds, pointing down the hall. “You’re here to see him, right?” Her smile turns knowing.

I nod, trying to steel myself to see him again.

“Go right on through!”

I head down the hallway, my anger returning with every step. Be strong, I remind myself, bracing for battle. Don’t let him off the hook just because he looks at you that way again.

I hear Ash’s voice coming from the office. He’s on a call, sounding crisp and business-like.

“Next month is unacceptable. Remind him, we have a signed contract promising delivery, and I’ll be fining him for every day past that date.”

I stand in the doorway. He’s pacing, talking on his cellphone, dressed smartly in a shirt and tie. He sees me and his expression changes for a moment.

Is that guilt in his eyes?

Ash holds up a finger. “One minute,” he whispers to me, but he doesn’t seem surprised to see me here. He steps out onto the balcony to finish the call, and I use the time to try and corral my hurt and betrayal into something more solid. But watching him through the windows, my resolve falters. He looks so good, his broad shoulders and square jaw illuminated in the sun. I remember how it felt to be held by those arms; to kiss along his neck. Flashes of the nights we’ve spent together run through my mind, confusing me with memories of pleasure and our incredible connection.




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