Page 31 of Key West Promises

"Maybe that's the plan." His eyes held hers over the rim of his coffee cup, and Leah felt heat rise in her cheeks.

Hoping he didn’t see her reaction, she asked, “Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you smoke cigars? I only ask because I remember my father smoked cigars. Of course, that was a long time ago, but some smells linger.”

“Guilty as charged. I learned to enjoy a good cigar the first year I moved to Key West, and I never looked back. I hope the smell isn’t offensive.”

Leah shook her head. “No, not at all. In fact, I like it.”

They worked through the morning, their heads bent together over budget sheets and program descriptions. Jack's expertise in crafting narratives helped transform dry statistics into compelling stories of transformation and hope. Every so often, their hands would brush, or their eyes would meet, and the air between them would grow thick with possibility.

"Tell me something," Jack said during a natural break in their work. "What made you decide to help Paradise Harbor House? Besides Kaitlyn's involvement?"

Leah considered the question carefully. "I think I needed to believe in something again. After all our failed business ventures, after watching our savings disappear chasing dreams that weren't really ours…" She trailed off, surprised by her own honesty. "Paradise Harbor House is different. It's real. The work they do matters."

"And that matters to you," Jack observed softly.

"Yes." She met his gaze. "Doesn't it to you?"

"More than I expected." His voice held a weight that suggested he wasn't just talking about Paradise Harbor House.

Evening found Tess wiping down the bar at Margarita Max's, the usual Wednesday night crowd settling in.

The regulars had their routines—the retired teacher who always ordered a mojito and worked on her crossword puzzle, the local fishermen who gathered to swap stories about the day's catch, the young couple who came in for one drink and always stayed for Jamie's entire set.

Her movements slowed as Jamie took his place on the small stage, guitar in hand. He'd been playing regularly now, each week bringing new songs that seemed to carry messages just for her.

He’d begin right around dinner time when the atmosphere was more relaxed, leaving just before karaoke began. Tonight, he looked different somehow—more nervous than she'd seen him since his first performance back.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said into the microphone, his voice carrying that slight tremor she'd come to recognize as genuine emotion rather than stage fright. "Got something new for you tonight. Something that's been working its way out for a while now."

He started playing, and Tess felt her breath catch. The melody was gentle but insistent, like waves reaching for shore.

As his voice filled the room, she recognized pieces of their conversations woven into the lyrics—subtle references to fresh starts and second chances, to finding music in unexpected places. There was a verse about a woman who helped someone remember how to smile, and Tess felt tears prick at her eyes.

"New song," Connie commented, passing behind her with a tray of glasses. "Wonder what inspired that."

Tess felt heat rise in her cheeks but didn't respond. She knew exactly what—or who—had inspired it. Just as she knew that Jamie's growing repertoire of original music marked his own kind of healing, his own journey back to the person he used to be.

The song ended, and Jamie's eyes found hers across the room. In that moment, surrounded by the warm glow of neon and the quiet murmur of regulars, Tess felt something settle into place—like a melody finding its harmony.

Later, as Jamie packed up his guitar, Tess approached the stage. The bar had quieted, most customers having drifted out into the night, leaving them in a bubble of privacy.

"That new song…" she began, not quite sure how to express what it had meant to her.

"Yeah?" His smile held a hint of vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

"It was beautiful. Real."

"Been feeling more real lately," he said softly. "Something about the company, I think."

Tess didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t respond.

"You know, I hadn't written anything new in years before…well, before you started working here."

The admission touched something deep in her chest. "And now?"

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