Chapter 32

Beau and I are quiet as we head to the city offices. My emotions are a jumbled mess—anger, frustration, hurt. I can’t believe they’re holding an actual emergency meeting for this just days before their normal meeting and a month before the one they’d planned to discuss the topic during. And yet, of course I can. This is Sunset Harbor, right? They go out of their way to make the lives of the Sawyer family difficult.

The room where they hold council meetings is a lot fuller than I’d expected given the short notice. It’s full of chatter, and the tone is more upbeat than seems appropriate given how I feel.

There’s a small lull in the babble as eyes turn toward Beau and me as we come through the door, holding hands. Brows raise, and the chatter volume turns up several notches.

Beau squeezes my hand, apparently immune to the attention. “Where do you want to sit?”

“I don’t care.” I wish I could feel as unbothered as he does. I’m glad to have him by my side, though. I’d feel a whole lot worse coming in here alone. I tried to call Grams to let her know about the meeting, but she didn’t answer, so I texted instead.

Beau leads us to two seats in the second row, and every single member of the council sitting up front has their eyes on us as we take our seats.

Mayor Barnes stands up and waits for people to take their seats and stop talking. “Good afternoon,” he says. “I hereby call this emergency meeting of the Sunset Harbor City Council to order. Due to the nature of the matter we will be discussing, we felt it necessary to convene before our monthly council meeting. We thank you all for your attendance and interest in preserving this community we have worked so hard to build.” He turns to the clerk, a man in his mid-thirties I don’t recognize, and asks him to conduct the roll call.

After confirming all five members of the council are in attendance, the mayor moves on to verify that the public was properly informed of the meeting, which one of the council members confirms, explaining the measures they took to get the word out. It’s not like they have to do much on Sunset Harbor.

“We have just one item on today’s agenda,” Mayor Barnes says. “The state of short-term rentals on the island and, more specifically, whether to enact an ordinance banning such rentals in the future. I invite the city council to begin the discussion.” He takes a seat in a chair at the end of the table where the council members sit and hands the microphone to Marlyss Gapmeyer.

For the next fifteen minutes, each of the five council members shares initial thoughts and concerns on the topic. Three of them—Mayor Barnes and two Palmerites—are pretty firmly against allowing short-term rentals, while the other two seem less certain, pointing to the extra public awareness rentals bring to the island, which is precisely what the other two members lament.

“Do we want to become the next Key West?” says Les Erickson, making his disgust clear.

There are murmurs of no all over the room.

“ I sure don’t,” he continues. “Between the Belacourt Resort and Keene B&B, we have plenty of options for tourists wanting to visit—and both of those can better vet their guests and supervise them than a short-term rental would. ”

Murmurs of assent ripple through the crowd.

“We’ve had multiple issues with our short-term rentals just in the past week or two,” he continues, on a roll. “Officer Palmer, can you help us understand some of what you’ve dealt with from the guests in the old Daines house?”

I glance at Beau, and so does everyone else.

He hesitates for a few seconds, then clears his throat and stands up while the mic is brought over. For the next couple of minutes, he outlines in a calm, measured voice the calls he’s dealt with—the trespassing on the resort beach, the public intoxication and fireworks, the resulting injury, and the confrontation two nights ago. Once he’s done, he gives a little nod, hands the mic back, and sits next to me.

I stare ahead, stone-faced.

“I think we should call it to a vote,” says Dill O’Donnell.

“Hold on a minute,” says Marlyss. “Let’s not be hasty.”

“The entire purpose of holding this emergency meeting is so we can act with haste,” Dill argues. “As I understand it, we have another property on the market that will soon be converted to a short-term rental if we don’t act.”

Whispers and looks follow this, all focused on me. I do my best to seem unfazed, but every muscle in my body is tight.

“I realize that,” Marlyss says. “But we need a supermajority to pass anything in an emergency meeting. Right, Mayor?”

Mayor Barnes nods.

“What else do you want before you’re satisfied on the subject?” Dill asks incredulously.

“We’ve heard Officer Palmer’s experience,” Marlyss says, “but I’d like to hear his opinion. He’s the one dealing with these issues most directly.”

All eyes turn to Beau again.

“Well?” Dill says, looking straight at him. “Do you think short-term rentals should be allowed in Sunset Harbor, Officer Palmer? ”

I stare straight ahead, trying to keep my breathing even.

Beau is quiet for a few seconds, and the room is electric with tension. “No,” he says softly but firmly. “I don’t.”

My entire body deflates. I don’t even hear the next words spoken by the council, but minutes later, the vote to ban short-term rentals passes with not just a supermajority but a unanimous vote.

My eyes tingle and burn, and I blink furiously, but there’s no stopping it. I can’t cry in front of these people, though. I refuse to.

I stand up and pick my way through the row and out of the room.

I’ve almost reached the front doors, tears streaming down my cheeks, when I hear Beau’s voice calling to me. I stop in front of the doors, but I don’t turn around. I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want him to know how much it hurt back there.

I understand the sentiment against short-term rentals, but it doesn’t change how it felt to see everyone, including Beau, rally together to prevent the one thing Grams and I need from the island right now: the sale of her house. It feels like history repeating itself.

“Gemma,” Beau says, jogging toward me.

I brush away my tears just before he takes my hand and comes around to face me.

His gaze searches my face. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head and look away, pulling my lips between my teeth to keep them from trembling.

“They’re not fighting against you,” he says. “They’re fighting for the island. They don’t want it to change.”

I swallow with effort. I can’t even verbalize what my heart is feeling knowing that Beau took the side he did—especially after he’s watched how hard I’ve been working to get the house sold. It’s a sucker punch, even if rationally I know why he did what he did. “It sure doesn’t feel like that. The message seems pretty loud and clear to me, Beau. None of you want the Sawyers here.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true, Gemma. I promise. You’re looking at everything through the lens of an old feud, and it’s coloring everything you see. If you look for confirmation you’re not wanted here, you’ll find it. But you’re wrong. People do want you in Sunset Harbor.”

“Really? There are already other short-term rentals on the island, Beau. What’s one more? They could’ve waited to vote on this until this sale closed, but they didn’t. After everything that’s happened in the past, they went out of their way to block the sale of Grams’s house. So please don’t tell me it’s not just a little personal and that the message I should take is that people want us here. I think it’s time for us to leave.”

He lets out a frustrated breath and takes my hands in his. “Don’t leave, Gemma. Please. Stay. The island does want you here. I want you here.”

“Do you?” I stare in his eyes.

“Of course I do,” he says, his brows knit.

I swallow, my eyes filling with tears again. I want to believe him so badly, but should I? They’re just words—right after the council voted unanimously to kill the sale of Grams’s house based at least in part on his opinion.

I have no idea what to believe at this point or how much of this is in my head like Beau seems to think it is.

He puts a hand on my cheek. “Please give us a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”

I don’t meet his eye. “I just need some time.”

There’s a short pause, and he nods. “Can I take you home?”

I shake my head. “I need the walk. I’ll see you later,” I mumble, then I push through the door.