Running late—which was unusual for me—I pedaled faster. Coming up on Wilma's, I veered my bike quickly to the back of the building, jumped off, and rushed around to the front door. June was manning the counter, finishing up with the only customer in the store, and as they turned to head to the exit, I shot them a quick smile while scurrying around the counter.

"Sorry I'm late," I said once the customer left, slightly out of breath as I tied my apron quickly. "My dad's appointment—"

"Don't even worry about it," she replied, cutting off my excuse. "I get it. And besides, you're like half an hour late and you texted me to let me know. Not a big deal. Nothing went colossally wrong in your absence."

I rolled my eyes and knocked my hip against hers. "Still. What if the lunch rush had started earlier than usual today? You would've been all alone."

"But it didn't," she pointed out. "Plus, I would've handled it."

Before I could agree that I knew she would've been fine dealing with a rush by herself—that I did trust her, I just felt bad about leaving her in the lurch—the bell to the door dinged and in walked Ryan and Bowen.

The latter beamed when he saw me, running up to the counter. "Hi Miss. Montgomery," he chirped happily.

"Hi Bowen," I replied, noticing how June took the opportunity to slip into the back. "What are you up to today?"

"We went canoeing this morning! I helped paddle and everything," he boasted, puffing his chest out.

"You did, eh?" Flicking my eyes over to Ryan quickly, who was grabbing a few things from the stocked aisles, and met his gaze as he shook his head subtly to signal that while Bowen may have thought he'd lent a hand, he hadn't really. "That must've been fun."

"It was. I love the water."

"Then you're definitely living in the right town," I mused. "But is there anything I can help you guys with?"

"Uncle Ryan is just getting spaghetti and meatballs for dinner," Bowen replied, and almost immediately, his eyes grew wide with an idea. "Do you like spaghetti?" he asked before quickly turning his head to Ryan, who walked up behind him and laid the ingredients on the counter. "Can Miss. Montgomery come over for dinner?"

"Oh," Ryan said, taken aback by his nephew's request, bringing one hand up to rub the back of his neck. He didn't appear to be completely put off by the idea, but rather apologetic that I'd been put on the spot. "I'm sure she has plans already, kid."

Bowen turned back to face me, his excitement deflated, and while I did appreciate Ryan giving me an easy out as he shot me an apologetic look, it didn't feel right to say no. "Actually," I said, ringing up the food, "I don't have anything all that interesting planned for tonight, unless you count relaxing on the sofa with a good book." My lips quirked upward. "I shut this place down around six, so if you're okay with waiting to eat until after that...?"

"We are!" Bowen exclaimed, and I laughed.

"Well, in that case—" I lifted my gaze to meet Ryan's. "—I'd love to join you both for dinner. If it really isn't an intrusion."

Ryan's eyebrows rose momentarily in surprise before his expression molded into one of contentment. "Not at all," he said. "As long as you're sure?"

I nodded, offering him a smile. "I'm sure."

At that, Bowen started wiggling his little body in happy dance and a laugh erupted from my mouth.

"Nice moves," Ryan chuckled, looking down at his nephew and ruffling his hair. He then paid for his food and as he grabbed the bag, he said, "I guess we'll see you around six thirty?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"And you know where the house is? Or did you need directions?"

"What do you think?" I countered teasingly, lifting a brow.

Ryan chuckled. "Right, right. Sometimes I forget how tight-knit this town is."

"It's both a blessing and a curse," I remarked and though they were gearing up to leave, I noted the way that Bowen's attention was enraptured by the display case. Which, while on the empty side as June prepped for lunch, still had some treats from this morning. "And actually, before you guys head out, how do you feel about a cupcake?"

My question was directed right to Bowen, and he shifted his stare toward me. "Really?"

"Sure," I said easily. "One of the perks of being the boss." As I moved to peek into the kitchen, the doors swung open and June, holding a fresh tray of s'more cupcakes. Plucking one off before she slid the tray into the display case, I placed it in a to-go bag and handed it to Bowen over the counter. "Here. Just promise me you'll save it until after you eat your lunch."

"I promise," he replied with a wide smile. "Thanks Miss. Montgomery!"

Ryan, who watched the exchange with amusement, nodded at me in thanks. "I'll get this little rascal out of your hair before he scrounges up any more free treats," he said jokingly. "But we'll see you tonight."

"See you."

I felt June's gaze on me as they said goodbye, and the moment the door swung shut behind them, her curiosity burst free. "So," she started with jest, "I know I may not have heard everything, but I seem to remember the last time we talked about that man, you said he was out of your league and you turned red as red velvet. Now you're going on a date?"

"First of all," I replied with an eye roll, trying and succeeding in keeping a blush at bay, "it's not a date. His nephew invited me over for dinner. What was I going to say? No?"

She shrugged, the smug look not falling from her face. "It was an option."

I chose to ignore that. "And secondly, we're friends. Or at least, we were when we were younger. There's nothing wrong or scandalous about the two of us having dinner."

"Oh, I'm not saying there is. I think it's great. I just reserve the right to say 'I told you so' when you walk into work tomorrow with a big grin on your face because you spent the night playing tonsil hockey with a professional athlete."

"You do not, because that won't happen," I laughed, swatting at her arm playfully using the rag we cleaned the counter with. "Now back to work. Our lunch rush is going to start any minute."

"You got it, boss."

***

Five hours later, I was alone in the store. Every couple of minutes someone would walk in to pick up food for dinner, or grab a snack to go, but otherwise, it gave me an ample amount of time to go through the inventory for this week's order.

Adding up the numbers as I made notes, I felt a small twinge of disappointment because it was clear that even with the new additions June and I had started adding to our selection, we were still bringing in the same amount of profit we had in years previous.

And while I might not have known a whole lot about running a business—most of my knowledge having been self-taught over the past year—I figured that remaining stagnant was not exactly the best thing. Sure, it wasn't a decline, and that was good to see, but knowing how much my mom and grandparents had invested in this place, I wished I could be doing something more than simply staying afloat.

To make them proud.

But that was hard when a majority of the year this place catered to only the small population of Neptune Bay. They were loyal customers, yes, but it wasn't like there were frequent newcomers to appeal to. Just the tourists, which meant if I wanted to make a splash this summer, I needed to come up with some fresh ideas. And fast.

Shelving my thoughts when I heard the bell above the door ring, I schooled my expression, appearing welcoming as I turned to greet the customer, but stopped short.

The man certainly wasn't a local—I would've recognized him—but I knew I'd seen him around somewhere. Recently. I tried to place him, with his slightly stoic expression and salt and pepper hair, and after racking my brain for a few moments, I realized he'd come in the afternoon of Liam and Thea's funerals a few weeks back. At the time, he'd been dressed up and I had figured he'd been in town for the service, but considering he was still here, I assumed that wasn't the case.

"Hello again," I said with a pleasant smile.

The man appeared to be both surprised and impressed as he reached the counter. "You remember me?"

I shrugged. "I have a good memory for faces."

"I guess that's a good skill to have in the hospitality industry, eh?"

"It helps," I remarked before gesturing to the menu. "What can I get you?"

His eyes scanned the board behind me. "I'll have an iced coffee with milk, and then one of those cashew brownies."

"Sure thing." I typed in the order, gesturing to the debit machine for him to pay as I got to work at making the coffee. "So, if you don't mind me asking, are you renting one of the oceanfront houses for the summer?"

Growing up in this town had clearly influenced my prying nature—or what I liked to call eager curiosity.

"For a few weeks," he clarified. "I have some business in town."

I nodded slowly with understanding, biting my tongue as the desire to push for more information. After all, what kind of business could a, presumably wealthy, businessman have in this small town?

"Well, feel free to drop in whenever you're hungry," I said, sliding his order across the counter. I had no shame in trying to wrangle this man into a regular customer if he would be around for a while. "We always have fresh stuff available and a good selection of groceries on the shelves if you feel like whipping up something yourself."

"Thank you," he said. "And actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something?"

"Oh, um, sure," I replied, caught off guard by his request.

"You wouldn't happen to know how I can reach the owner of this place, would you?"

I blinked as I processed the unexpected question. "Of the store?" I asked slowly, and he nodded. Straightening, I tried to appear confident as I said, "I'm the owner."

The man cocked his head and lifted a brow, as though he was waiting for me to tell him I was joking. When I didn't, a deep chuckle left his lips. "Then this is going to be easier than I thought," he said. "I'm Michael Romano."

The name meant nothing to me, but from the way this man was carrying himself, I could only assume it was supposed to. And that caused my chest to tighten as dread began to circulate.

He reached into his pocket and extended a business card toward me. "I'm the CEO of Romano Developments, a company specializing in luxury condo buildings."

Luxury... condos?

"Okay," I replied hesitantly, glancing down at his card with confusion. "What does that have to do with me?"

"From the research I've done over the last year, this town pulls in quite the crowd of tourists during the summer month, but for the other nine to ten months of the year, the local businesses rely on the residents in town—a majority of whom are over fifty." This was true, but I still didn't understand what he was looking for. "This town has charm though, and it can easily pull in a whole new, younger group of residents if there were more real estate options. Like a condo building steps away from the beach and the marina, with an ocean view to really sell people on the unique magic a small town has to offer. Somewhere like right here."

"Wait, wait, wait... are you saying you want to build a condo here?" I asked, gesturing around me. "As in, this very spot?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Then I think there's been some mistake," I said, shaking my head and handing his card back to him. "This store isn't for sale."

He didn't seem fazed by my statement, and instead chuckled as he picked up his food and began stepping backward. "Everything is for sale if you offer the right price," he said, and with the last word, turned on his heel and walked out of the store.

Leaving me slack jawed, fuming, and wondering what the fuck had just happened.

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