More to Give (27 page)

“Hey,” Jack said, bounding into her office in his usual way. He froze when he saw Callie’s face. “Why are you crying? I thought this was good.”

“It
is
good,” Callie mumbled, nodding her head up and down. Then she threw her arms around the gangly young man who had put this miracle in motion. “Thank you for doing this.”

“But I didn’t—”

“I know you did, so don’t deny it, Jack. Now I know why you were gone so long this morning.”

“It wasn’t—”

“I don’t know how, and right now I don’t care.” Pushing the stuttering teenager into the lobby, Callie added, “Back to work. We’ve got a hotel to finish!”

Sam e
nforced every ounce of self-control he had to keep from driving over to the inn and joining the others. Will had used some excuse to call him from Callie’s office and give him an update. According to her estimations, with the added crew they would have the place put back together by the end of the week, providing plenty of time to bring the new staff in and have the place ready for guests before the big arrivals.

He imagined Callie trying to finish all the work on her own, not sleeping or eating. She likely would have done it, too. Her tenacity almost made up for her stubborn streak. She should have let him know weeks ago that the crew had thinned back out. That she was in the weeds and needed his help.

But that was the catch. Callie didn’t need him for anything and she was determined to prove it. Even if she whittled herself down to nothing in the process.

Yes, stubborn and prideful. And beautiful and brilliant and better than anything he ever deserved.

CHAPTER 27

S
he di
d it. With the help of some of the best people she would ever meet in her life, Callie renovated and rejuvenated the Sunset Harbor Inn in less than three months. The furnishings looked amazing, the rooms were cozy and inviting, and the exterior sparkled in the sun. The gazebo still needed a paint job, but that could wait.

Callie was not going to stress over a gazebo in the dead of winter. Thanks to Beth’s vision, they’d draped it in thick strands of garland with a large red bow on the front, and it made a wonderful focal point not far from the harbor. There would be many beautiful weddings staged around that gazebo, some of them maybe even planned by her.

But that was in the future. Today was about celebrating the current accomplishment. The wedding guests would arrive in two days, but first was an open house party. Everyone who’d helped with the renovation would be wined and dined, and Jack had even agreed to play DJ. Callie wasn’t certain what kind of music they would get, but the air-guitar god had promised nothing too screamy—his word—and that had been good enough for her.

Standing on the front porch of the Peabody Cottage, Callie fortified herself for the test ahead. Today she would see Sam. He was the owner, after all. Not inviting him to his own open house had seemed rude, though Callie wasn’t beneath considering it. Still, common sense had won out. Her pride had taken harder hits. She would survive this one.

They’d received a dusting of snow overnight, and while Callie had heard that was not a usual event here, the weather didn’t seem to have scared anyone off. Many spaces in the parking lot were filled when she made the short trek that she’d made so many times before in the last twelve weeks. This one felt tougher, as if she were walking against a wall of something that was pushing back.

Stopping outside the front door, Callie took several deep breaths, then noticed movement to her left. So bundled that she could barely see their faces, Bernie and Olaf hovered around their ancient barrel, playing checkers.

The newly painted table she’d given them sat ignored in the corner.

“Why are you still using this barrel?” she asked as she stepped up beside Olaf.

“T’ain’t nothin’ wrong with it,” Bernie said, scooting a black checker one block to the right.

Callie almost argued, then reconsidered. “Can we at least give it a coat of paint?”

“I suppose,” he said, grimacing as Olaf took his checkers. “Now get inside. You’re distracting me.”

She considered lingering to annoy him. And to avoid what she would inevitably face inside. But then Bernie looked up for a second, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips as he winked at her. His face returned to normal so quickly, Callie wondered if she hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

“The punch is good,” Olaf said, ignoring the board for a moment. “And they got scallops wrapped in bacon,” he added, holding up a small plate covered in exactly that.

“I’ll give your regards to the chef,” Callie said, walking toward the hotel entrance. She stopped once again before the door to steady herself.

Like ripping off a Band-Aid
, she thought.
Get it over with.

Charging ahead, Callie stepped into the lobby of the Sunset Harbor Inn and marveled at the difference from the first time she’d stepped inside. The first thing that hit her was the smell. Once again, Jack had been the champion. His suggestion that they pour a drop or two of vanilla into each can of paint meant the place smelled much better than it would have without the added touch.

The presence of live garland, which had also been Beth’s idea, meant the scents of pine and cookies filled Callie’s senses and made her feel festive and hungry at the same time. Upbeat music pulsed from the dining room, from which she could hear voices.

She hadn’t seen Sam’s Murano parked out front, so maybe she could have a few drinks before he arrived. Take the edge off, and then seeing him might not hit her so hard.

But before she could make her feet move, the bells chimed over the door, signaling a new arrival. Turning, she saw him and knew that no amount of alcohol would have made this easier.

Sam stood frozen in the open doorway as their eyes met. Then he looked her up and down, as if taking her in. He didn’t look as haughty as she’d expected. Or as arrogant. For a second, he looked happy to see her, but then the mask was back in place, his expression flat and free of emotion.

“Hello,” he said, closing the door behind him. Glancing around the lobby, his face shifted to approving. “You’ve done a good job with the place.”

Callie knew he’d given himself a tour the day before. She’d been packing her things and spotted him through the front window of the cottage. The urge to run to him had been almost too much—until she’d reminded herself that he’d made his choice, as had she. That they were over.

“Hi,” she managed to say, cursing the flutter in her voice. Clearing her throat, Callie threw her head back. “I did an outstanding job, considering the time frame I was given.”

One side of his mouth hitched up. “I agree. That’s what I meant to say.”

She should have walked away from him. Joined the party, grabbed a drink, and ignored Sam for the rest of the night. Instead she said, “What do you think of the decorations?”

“Very festive,” he said.

“But not too much,” Callie added.

“No,” he said. “Not too much.”

This was ridiculous. “I guess we’d better join the party.”

“Callie, wait.” Sam took a step forward, pausing as Callie stepped back. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he said, “I wanted to tell you that I’ll be moving back to Charleston in a few months. Maybe we’ll run into each other.”

“You’re leaving Anchor?” she asked. “But what about the hotels?”

“I’ll still own them,” he said, tilting his head. “Someone else will be running them on-site.”

All her stressing over whether to stay, and he’d been planning to leave.

“When did you decide this?”

“A while ago,” he said, being vague, as usual.

“Before I came here?”

He took another step forward. This time she stood her ground.

“No. My decision came after that.”

She wanted to ask more questions. To know if he’d decided to leave before or after they’d fallen apart. Was that part of the plan he’d suddenly had for them, when he’d thought they might have a child together?

Instead, she gave him some news of her own.

“Well, I’ll be staying.”

“What?” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Staying where?”

“Here,” she said. “On Anchor.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t give him the chance. “Don’t worry. I’ll have my things out of the Peabody the day after the wedding. I’ve made other arrangements.”

“But why?”

“Because my job here is done and the Peabody belongs to you. I have to get out.”

“I don’t mean that,” he said, seemingly growing angry. “What will you do here? There are no more hotels for you to flip.”

So, he thought that was all she could do. Of course he did. “What I do after this job is over isn’t really any of your business, Mr. Edwards.” Callie threw in the full name as an extra punch, proof that he was no longer more than a boss to her.

But his blue-gray eyes faded from anger to hurt, and she felt the shift like a blow.

She would not feel sorry for him. Sam was the one who’d declared he would never marry again. He’d agreed to a temporary affair. Even if he changed his mind, he would never see her as an equal, with opinions and enough strength to stand on her own. To make her own decisions.

And if she changed her mind, Callie would fall into all the old patterns she’d worked so hard to break.

They stood there for a long time, staring at each other as if neither could move. Then Sam reached for her and Callie took several steps back.

“I need to join the party,” she said, willing the tears to hold off a little longer. “Thanks again for this opportunity. It taught me a lot about myself, and I’m glad I took it.”

And then she charged into the dining room, where people yelled her name and put a drink in her hand and helped her pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking.

An hour later, Sam stood in the corner of the dining room, untouched drink in hand, pretending he wasn’t watching every move Callie made. He couldn’t believe she was staying. Had never entertained the thought that she would want to. And to think, she’d chosen to do so when she’d believed Sam would still be on the island.

Having to see him around the village wouldn’t have bothered her at all. Un-fucking-believable.

“You should tell her,” said a female voice from beside him. Sam looked down to find a very pregnant Beth Dempsey near his elbow. A glass he assumed held water rested on the top of her stomach. Smiling up at him, she added, “Makes a good table.”

“I’m sure it does,” he said, not sure how to converse with a pregnant woman. Especially one he didn’t know very well.

“What’s holding you back?” she asked.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” He knew exactly what she meant, but telling a woman in her condition to mind her own business seemed . . . precarious.

Beth took a sip of water, then said, “You love her. That much is obvious.”

“That’s the hormones talking,” Sam said.

“Possibly.” Another sip of water. “But I doubt it.”

They stood in silence, Beth humming along with the music Jack was playing from the other side of the room. “I don’t know what this is,” she said, “but I like the tune.” A young male was singing about being weightless. Sam could see how the concept would appeal to a woman roughly the size of a planet.

“I would ask you to dance,” he said, “ but I don’t think it’s wise in your condition.”

She started bouncing up and down. “I don’t know. Maybe dancing would jar this kid loose. The bugger needs to come out.”

“Please don’t do that.” She was making him nervous. “I think you should sit down.”

But before he could get her a chair, Beth’s eyes went wide as she latched a hand onto his arm like a vise grip. “Too late,” she said. “Get Joe. Get him now.”

Since Sam couldn’t walk away without his arm and Beth wasn’t letting go, the only option he had was to yell across the room. On the third try, Joe finally heard him. He turned with a smile, until he noticed Beth’s face. Then he looked ready to kill.

“What is it?” Joe said, crouching under Beth’s nose. She was breathing heavily, making heeing and hawing sounds.

“Water,” she said.
Hee hee haw haw.
“Broke.”

Sam looked down at the same time Joe did and spotted the puddle between Beth’s feet.

“Lucas, get your car!” Joe yelled, lifting Beth into his arms.

“What?” his brother said. “It’s a BMW!”

“Get the fucking car.”

Lucas did as he was ordered, charging out of the room. The rest of the crowd swarmed behind the couple as they followed, Will and Sid flanking Joe while Randy collected coats. In a whirl, the entire party moved to the porch, watching Joe slide a panting Beth gently into the backseat of a silver BMW, then climbing in with her. Sid jumped into the passenger seat, and through the window Sam could see her on her knees, holding Beth’s hand in her own.

“We’ll meet you there,” Will yelled, as she and Randy ran toward a Malibu.

Seconds later, the snow-covered lot was filled with tire tracks, and what partygoers remained were taking bets on the sex of the impending bundle of joy.

As people filed back into the hotel, Sam spotted Callie farther down the porch, watching the baby parade disappear into the distance. As if she could feel him watching her, she turned to meet his gaze in time for him to see the tear slide down her cheek.

He’d taken a step toward her when a woman Sam didn’t know stepped through the door.

“Callie, I need to call Tom and Patty Dempsey to let them know what’s going on. Can I use the phone in your office?”

Blotting her face, Callie nodded. “Sure, Kinzie. Go ahead.” She shook her head, as if she could shake the tears away, then headed back into the hotel. Sam touched her elbow, but she jerked her arm away. “Leave me alone, Sam. Please, leave me alone.”

Henri arrived the morning of the wedding. Callie tried not to be offended that her cousin stopped to see Yvonne before driving over to the cottage. Most of Callie’s meager belongings were stacked near her front door, though she had to remind herself the door wasn’t
hers
. If the cottage had belonged to anyone else, she would have paid any price to stay.