Chapter 35

When I wake up the next morning, I have two texts from Beau. One is a goodnight text from well past midnight, which means he didn’t get to go to sleep right after he left to take that call. The other is from just a half hour ago.

Beau

Totally forgot about the fundraiser for the community pool. I’ve got to be at the Belacourt Resort to help out.

I breathe deeply. I’m not letting the community pool thing ruffle me today. It’s not worth it. Let the island scrimp and save for the pool they could have had all these years if they’d just appreciated my dad and his work. Not that they’ll have to scrimp and save. Walker Collins—pro golfer and Sunset Harbor resident—is headlining the fundraiser, which means they’ll probably raise what they need pretty easily.

I do some more job searching, clean the house, then get takeout from Sunrise Café—steak and cheese sandwiches. For old times’ sake. I get a call from Cat Keene midway through eating.

“Hey,” she says a bit breathlessly. “I don’t have much time since the fundraiser is underway right now, but I have a quick question for you.”

“Sure,” I say. “Shoot. ”

“I know you’ve got a lot of…feelings when it comes to Sunset Harbor, and I don’t need a response right now, but I think you’d be perfect for this, so I told Noah I’d ask.”

“Perfect for what?” I ask, wary but curious.

“Noah’s got his hand in a few pies, as you may know.”

“Billions of dollars’ worth of pies, you mean.”

“Exactly. His family has people working PR, of course, but it’s gotten to a point where he wants someone of his own for his individual endeavors. When I suggested you, he thought it was a great idea. Now, I don’t have salary or contract details yet, but I can assure you that Noah’s a very generous boss.”

No words will come to me, but Cat keeps going.

“Here’s the catch: it would be a position in Sunset Harbor. On location.” Her talking speed ramps up. “I don’t want you to answer yet because I want you to take time to consider it. Like, really consider it. So, now that you know it’s an option, I’m just going to hang up and get back to the fundraiser so that you have some time to think. Okay? Okay, bye.”

The line clicks, and she’s gone.

I blink, then pull my phone from my ear to stare at it, half wondering if I just imagined that whole conversation.

I have no idea what to do with that drive-by job offer. Cat wants me to work for Noah Belacourt? In Sunset Harbor? Doing PR?

I sort of hate how enticing that offer is, even without knowing the salary details, even after everything that’s happened over the past week. Knowing Cat and Noah want me to stay on the island is comforting, though. Maybe more people want that than I’ve been willing to consider.

My thoughts are all jumbled, and I’m getting increasingly impatient to see Beau, so I head to Seaside Oasis to keep myself busy and let myself mull over Cat’s call.

Grams decides it’s time for a second lunch—“I’ll get my money’s worth from these monthly fees!”—so we go to the cafeteria, which has become our default hang-out spot.

“So,” she says as she daubs way too much sour cream onto her taco salad, “what tomfoolery have you been up to since I saw you?”

“Nothing you want to know about,” I say.

She grunts. “Out with it.”

I consider telling her about Cat’s call, but I decide against it. I need to make the decision for myself—and it’s not a mystery what Grams will want me to do. “I’ve been putting that presentation together for Beau—the one I’ve been shadowing him to get footage for. He presents it to the city council tonight.”

“I thought you were doing the presenting,” she says, adding a heaping tablespoon of cilantro to the growing mound on her plate.

“Can you blame me for not wanting to after what happened at the last meeting?”

“Hmph,” is all she replies to this as I take her tray and we head to the nearest table. “So, you finished it?”

“Last night,” I say, setting both trays down. “Beau’s been worked to the bone the last couple of days, and he won’t get much time to prepare today, either, thanks to the pool fundraiser. But he’s charming enough to pull it off.” He is. But he shouldn’t have to. They should realize how valuable he is without a pretty presentation to convince them.

“Well?”

I raise my brows and take my seat. “Well what?”

“Let’s see it, then,” she says impatiently. “This thing you’ve been working on for so long.”

“Um, okay,” I say, thoroughly surprised. “But it’s all video of Beau, Grams.”

“Quit dillydallying and show me.”

I obediently open my phone to the presentation and let it play—with no narration—while Grams watches, her thick glasses pushed down to the bottom of her nose.

At first, my gaze alternates between the videos and checking Grams’s expression. But then, I get sucked into watching Beau. I could watch him all day. He’s so incredibly capable, so charismatic, so good at what he does. But it’s in his own distinct way. He’s the island’s biggest asset.

Of course the island doesn’t want short-term rentals. They don’t want investors and Jimmys and constant noise complaints. They want more people like Beau. Or like Jane Hayes. Or Cat Keene. People who love the island and are invested in its future. They might lose Beau if they’re not careful, though.

When the presentation comes to an end, my nerves return.

Grams doesn’t say anything, squeezing lime juice onto the top of her salad.

“So,” I say awkwardly. “Any feedback?”

“The text was too small,” she says.

“Okay…” That wasn’t quite what I meant.

“The rest of it was well done, though. And he obviously deserves the job.”

My jaw slips open. “What?”

“He obviously deserves the job,” she says much more loudly. “Do we need to get you fitted for hearing aids, young lady?”

“No,” I say. “I’ve just never heard you compliment a Palmer.”

“And that compliment doesn’t leave this table. Do you understand?”

I nod meekly.

“You gave him a nice presentation, Gigi, but aren’t you worried he’ll bungle it? Palmers are good at that.”

There it is—the Palmer dig I was waiting for .

“I doubt he’ll mess it up that badly, Grams. The whole island loves him.”

“Including you . ”

I stare at her with no ready response. I’m sure my face says it all, though: guilty.

“You do, don’t you?”

My heart starts to patter. “Love is a strong word.” And yet not strong enough, somehow.

“Hm. Well, I still think you should do the presentation.”

“And present to the city council that just backstabbed us again? If anything, having me do it will hurt his chances, not help.”

She shakes her head, still chewing. “It’ll be that much more convincing coming from a Sawyer.”

“But…but…I can’t look them in the faces. I’m still upset.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me not to let Rick Palmer get to me?” She jabs a finger in my chest. “Don’t you let them get to you , Gigi. Stand up there, steadfast and strong, and show them what you’re made of.”

I swallow and nod. Grams is wrong. A lot. But she’s not wrong right now.

I don’t want to let my bad experience with the city council hurt Beau.

“When is it?” she asks.

I check my phone, and my heart skips. “In an hour and a half.”

“Get going, girl!” She pushes my shoulder, and I get to my feet, my taco salad forgotten.

Am I really doing this? But I know the answer to that. I am. I owe it to Beau. And I owe it to myself.

But that means I need to get home and shower. Make myself presentable.

It’s time to bring out the business attire again.

I get a text from Beau when I’m on my way to the city offices. I can barely read it through the golf cart’s vibrations.

Beau

The presentation looks amazing, and I couldn’t have done it without you. Wish me luck!

I don’t bother responding because I’m running late and I’m almost there.

My heart is pounding by the time I reach the parking lot at the city offices. I’ve done a lot of presentations in my time, but today feels different. For a lot of reasons.

I’m wearing black slacks, the same heels I wore when Beau pulled me over on my first night, and a white button-up shirt, all of which at least make me feel like I’m capable. I can stand in front of a table of meanies wearing this and keep my cool.

The meeting is already going when I open the door enough to look inside.

The council members are all seated in their places, looking a whole lot like they did a few days ago. I still can’t believe they called an emergency meeting when their regular meeting was going to be so soon.

But I can’t think about that right now. This is about Beau.

Once the agenda for the meeting is read, I slip inside the door, which creaks until every single head turns to look at me. I ignore everyone but Beau, who couldn’t look more surprised if I’d swung in on a jungle vine, yelling like Tarzan.

I try to close the door as softly as possible, but it creaks as much as it did while being opened, then I make my way to sit beside him. It’s almost as crowded as it was last week. I’m impressed by the sense of civic duty that permeates this island. City council meetings aren’t generally on my list of ways to spend my free time.

I take the seat next to Beau, who stares at me like he’s worried he’s seeing things. I grab his hand but don’t say anything, since the first item on the agenda is already being discussed: renewing the software license for the city’s computer system.

Beau looks down at our hands and squeezes mine gratefully.

After the software discussion, there’s a report about waste management, then discussion of the community pool fundraiser.

Beau leans over to me midway through a zoning discussion. “Thank you. For being here.”

I nod, so glad I didn’t stay home.

Finally, it’s time for the last item: the city budget.

“Officer Palmer,” says Mayor Barnes. “I understand you have something you’d like to present.”

Beau clears his throat and stands, but I tug down on his hand and get to my feet next to him.

“I’ll actually be the one presenting, Mayor Barnes,” I say. “If that’s okay with Officer Palmer.” I look over at him.

Whatever happens while I’m up in front of the council, it’s more than worth the way he’s looking at me. It’s the purest mix of gratitude, awe, and a hint of bedroom eyes that make my pulse extra speedy.

“You sure?” he asks in an undertone.

“Positive,” I say with a smile, then I head for the front of the room. It takes a couple of minutes to get the tech going and the presentation pulled up, but once that’s done, I face the table of city council members.

This is for Beau.

“Councilwomen and men,” I say. “Thank you for having me here today. You may or may not be aware that I’ve been shadowing Officer Palmer for the past few weeks, documenting some of what he does as Sunset Harbor’s only law enforcement officer.”

Their heads nod .

“This may come as a shock to you, but I came to this island with a deep-seated dislike of Beau Palmer.”

Chuckles ripple throughout the room, and it acts like an IV, filling my veins with more confidence. Beau smiles at me, and with the way my heart flutters, I realize it’s a miracle my hatred of him lasted more than a few seconds. I’m not actually sure that it did, but I sure made a valiant effort to pretend.

“When I agreed to help him with this project, it was with a promise to help convince you that he deserves a full-time position in Sunset Harbor. No one could have been more skeptical of that fact than I was. I was sure Officer Palmer spent his days dillydallying, as Grams calls it, or abusing his position, even.”

The eyes of the council members have started looking slightly wary, as if I came here to smear Beau instead of help him.

“With that in mind,” I continue, “I’d like to show you the following video, assembled from footage I took over the past few weeks.”

The councilmembers’ eyes are all on me as I press play.

As the footage rolls, I find my gaze flitting to Beau over and over. Every time, he’s looking at me, not the video. If I could bottle up that look in his eyes and see it when I look in the mirror every morning, I’d be the most confident woman on the planet.

A throat clears, and I break my gaze away from Beau’s.

Oh. The video ended.

I clear my throat, hoping it was just a few seconds they were waiting.

“This is just a very small sampling of what I watched Officer Palmer do,” I continue, slightly warm. “One of the most poignant instances I observed of him at work didn’t get captured at all. Officer Palmer stepped in when my own safety was in danger—you heard him refer to that in the encounter the other day. He had no time to prepare for this presentation because he spent all yesterday helping with a manatee rescue and all today helping at the fundraiser.

“Councilmembers, I don’t stand before you today as an impartial observer of Officer Palmer—and I definitely don’t stand before you as someone who hates him. No one’s opinion of him changed more than mine did. I stand before you fully and completely convinced of his dedication and value as Sunset Harbor’s only law enforcement officer. Officer Palmer already puts in more than the hours of a full-time law enforcement officer. Your island is benefitting from that, whether you’ve realized it or not. If you want to keep him, and I know you do, it’s time to compensate him accordingly. He deserves it. I hope you can demonstrate that you deserve him too. Thank you.”

Applause erupts around the room as I head back to my seat. Beau stands up and pulls me into his arms. “You,” he says, his voice husky. “Don’t ever make me cry like that again.”

I laugh into his shoulder as the applause begins to die down. I wish I could just stay like this indefinitely, but this is a government meeting, so I pull back and take my seat again.

“Thank you, Miss Sawyer,” Mayor Barnes says. “I feel confident we can put this matter to a vote.”

I grab Beau’s hand, my nerves returning in full force.

He leans over to me and whispers, “I don’t even care about the job right now. I got what I want most.” His lips press to my cheek.

“All in favor of changing Sunset Harbor’s law enforcement officer position to full-time, please raise your hand.”

All five hands go up at the table. Around us, unsolicited votes pop up until every hand in the room but Beau’s and mine are raised. I add mine to the fray.

“Any opposed?” The hands all drop, and the room is silent. “Officer Palmer, the voting appears to be unanimous.”

Beau brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “You did it. ”

I shake my head. “That was all you.”

Mayor Barnes discusses the steps that have to be taken to formalize the change, but I hardly hear a word he says until they start to close the meeting and Beau raises his hand.

Mayor Barnes’s brow lifts. “Did you want to say a few words?”

“Not about the full-time issues—at least, not apart from a huge thank you to the council and to Gemma.” He looks down at me with a smile. “But I actually hoped I could pop up there real quick and…” He doesn’t finish, but it’s clear he and the mayor are silently communicating.

“Since she’s here,” Beau says.

I can only assume he’s referring to me, but I have no idea what he means.

“Oh!” Mayor Barnes says. “Right. Of course. Come on up.”

“Thank you,” Beau says, letting go of my hand and walking to the front.

I look around, wondering if I’m the only one confused by this turn of events. The eyes that meet mine in the audience smile at me.

I’m more confused than ever.

“As you know,” Beau says to the audience and council, “yesterday, we held a fundraiser for the community pool. We were fortunate to raise a significant amount of money to put toward that project.”

A bunch of nods follow this.

“Everyone in this room but one”—his eyes fix on me—“is also aware of a separate but somewhat related effort that happened over the past few days, culminating today. Gemma, I’ve had a number of people reach out to me since the last council meeting, expressing concern about the effect of its result on you and your grandma. Similar concerns were voiced about the message the community pool project might send your family given the history surrounding the subject. Elaine Pruitt”—he smiles at her—“suggested we as a community do something to send two stronger messages to our Sawyer friends.”

My heart stutters at those last words.

Beau continues. “Those messages are: we’re sorry for the hurt we’ve caused in the past, and we want you here.”

Murmurs of assent ripple through the room, and I swallow, pressing my hand against my mouth to keep my lips from trembling. Those words— we want you here— hit me square in the chest. I hold Beau’s gaze, still unsure what exactly he’s saying.

He smiles broadly at me. “It’s my honor to let you know that Sunset Harbor’s residents came together and raised $30,000—an amount we hope will allow your grandma to remain at Seaside Oasis while arrangements are made for the house sale.”

I blink—again and again and again—as clapping fills the room.

$30,000?

Beau keeps smiling at my bemused expression as people in the chairs around me start to walk over to me. They shake my hand, hug me, and tell me they hope I’ll stick around too.

I try to gather myself enough to receive their well-wishes, but my head is spinning like a top.

Finally, it’s Beau whose arms are around me. “You look like you just woke up on Mars.”

“I feel like I just woke up on Mars. Beau”—I swallow because my throat is suddenly thick—“how?”

He pulls back and looks at me as people file out of the room. “Like I said, it wasn’t my idea. I just facilitated it.”

A thought occurs to me. “Was this what you were working on the other night? The thing you couldn’t talk about yet?”

He smiles mischievously. “Elaine and I had a top-secret meeting. We started reaching out to a few people with a donation link that night. That link got spread around the island, and”—he lifts his shoulder—“here we are. We raised way more than we thought we would, which just goes to show how people really feel about your family, Gemma. Every single household on the island willingly contributed.”

I can’t even formulate a response.

Beau doesn’t expect me to, though. He just holds me while I bury my face in his shoulder.