Page 57 of Key West Promises

"Speaking of journeys," Elena called from below deck, "we need to figure out the traffic flow for the silent auction. We don't want bottlenecks when people are trying to place bids."

They spent the next hour mapping out every detail—where the musicians would be positioned, how to arrange the seating to maximize the sunset view, the best spots for Will to capture candid moments of guests enjoying themselves.

"We should mark the spots for the family photos," Kaitlyn said, moving toward the display area they'd designated. "The lighting needs to be just right—we want people to feel the stories, not just see them."

"Like Melanie's interview," Gretchen added. "The way you captured her strength, her hope."

Will nodded, already adjusting his camera settings. "We'll set up soft lighting here, keep it intimate. When people see these images, they should understand that Paradise Harbor House isn't just a place—it's a community."

"Speaking of community," Captain Mike called from the bridge, "wait until you see what happens when we drop anchor in that perfect sunset spot. The way the light plays on the water…it's like nature designed it for moments like this."

Tess leaned against the rail, the breeze playing with her hair. "Jamie mentioned something about timing the dessert service just as the sun touches the horizon. Said it adds a touch of magic to everything."

"Pure romance, that one," Chelsea teased, but her eyes were kind.

Captain Mike appeared with more coffee and what looked suspiciously like fresh Cuban pastries. "Courtesy of your friend Jamie," he explained. "Said something about practicing the dessert presentation."

"Quality control," Tess said solemnly, reaching for one. "Very important."

Tess felt her cheeks warm as everyone's attention turned to her. The pastry in her hand suddenly seemed very interesting.

"Just friends, huh?" Chelsea's tone was too innocent. "Is that why he's been testing dessert recipes on you all week?"

"He tests them on everyone," Tess protested, but even she could hear the weak defense in her voice. "It's…professional courtesy."

"Oh, of course," Leah agreed, straight-faced. "Very professional. Like those private sunset guitar sessions at Max's?"

Tess shot her sister a look that promised revenge. "Those are just…he's just getting back into playing. Nothing more."

"Mmhmm." Chelsea wasn't even trying to hide her smile now. "And I suppose him rearranging his entire staff schedule to be free for the fundraiser is just professional dedication?"

"You all are impossible," Tess muttered, but she couldn't quite suppress her own smile. The truth was, she and Jamie were…something. Something delicate and new, still finding its shape.

"Leave her alone." Gretchen surprisingly came to her rescue. Then ruined it by adding, "Though I have to say, his key lime pie has gotten even better lately. Amazing what happiness does for a chef's cooking."

"I hate all of you," Tess declared, but she was laughing now. Because they weren't wrong—Jamie had been different lately. Lighter. More like the person everyone said he'd been before losing Emma. And if she had something to do with that…well, maybe that was its own kind of magic.

"You know what would be perfect for the fundraiser?" Kaitlyn chimed in, her eyes dancing with mischief. "If Jamie played guitar during dessert. You know, something romantic…"

"Don't you dare," Tess warned, pointing her half-eaten pastry at her niece. "He's just getting comfortable performing again."

"Actually," Will said thoughtfully, lowering his camera, "that would make for amazing footage. The restaurant owner who supports Paradise Harbor House, sharing his music…"

"See? Perfect!" Chelsea agreed. "And Tess could?—"

"Could what?" Tess challenged. "Stand there awkwardly while you all pretend not to stare?"

"Well, you could always join him," Leah suggested innocently. "I seem to remember you used to sing in high school."

"That was thirty years ago!" Tess felt her face flame again. "And if anyone mentions this to Jamie, I swear I'll tell Jack about that poetry journal Leah's been hiding in her desk."

"What poetry journal?" Jack called from above deck.

"Nothing!" Leah shouted back, her own cheeks reddening.

"Actually," Tess said, trying to regain some dignity, "Jamie's friend's band is handling the music. He wants to focus on the food service, make sure everything runs perfectly."

"Oh, I bet that's why he wants to focus on the food," Chelsea drawled. "That way he can focus on you, Tess."

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