Page 45 of Lush

I nodded, balling my fists at my sides. “Yeah, I can take care of that.”

“Let’s hit it, folks.”

Following him, I glanced back at the empty pier before entering. The water lapped against the posts, sluggish, almost too still, like it was holding its breath.

The yacht club’s interior was magazine-worthy. The polished marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of ornate chandeliers and framed photographs of the row teams and sailors. Passing the bathroom, Laurene and I glanced at each other. There was a tiny spot not too far away—perhaps that’s where the photo was taken.

“Here you are.”

Conrad’s locker, adorned with flowers and a photo, stood against the wall. I inhaled sharply, my throat tightening with emotion.

Laurene took my hand.

“I don’t wanna give you another boring speech about what Conrad meant to this club. We all know he meant a lot to all of us.” Miles eyed our clasped hands, eyebrow raised. “I have a box for his things.”

Laurene’s voice was steady beside me. “We won’t be long.”

“Well, if you need anything?—”

“Thanks,” I interrupted.

“Alrighty then,” Miles said. “Laurene, hit me up. We have a lot to talk about.”

Conrad’s rowing coach mentioned the memorial after the funeral, but none of us in the family had the guts to go.

“I dream about the accident all the time,” Laurene said quietly. “I keep thinking, what if you hadn’t pulled me out of the current? What if I could have stopped you both from fighting? You didn’t have to do what you did that night. But you did.”

“I loved you,” I admitted. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

“We should start packing these away.” Laurene reached for a framed photo, her fingers lingering over Conrad’s smiling face. “Maybe we might find something for our…situation?”

We moved in near silence, the weight of the moment thick in the air. Flowers, wilted and brittle, released a faint sickly sweet scent as I brushed them aside. Beneath the bouquet, my fingers grazed something cold and metallic.

A small silver pendant. Its sailboat shape was delicate, almost innocent. My breath hitched as I held it up, the faint gleam catching the dim light. For a moment, I hesitated, the chill of the metal biting into my skin.

How long had this been here?

I opened the locker door, revealing his belongings neatly arranged—a snapshot of his life, frozen in time. It was the usual junk at first, but I found small wooden box at the bottom of the locker. I picked it up, its weight heavier than I expected. Laurene paused and glanced up. Neither of us spoke, our breaths held as I eased the lid open.

Inside was a set of keys, a worn leather wallet, a journal with frayed edges, and a folded piece of paper.

I unfolded the paper, studying the contents—a faded map of Lush marked with notes and symbols. My heart quickened as I recognized Conrad’s meticulous handwriting, detailing places and times for a new resort.

“This is Conrad’s blueprint,” I murmured, my mind racing as the pieces started to fall into place. The sketches, the annotations—expansion plans for a new resort. Tobias pissed over us ending our deal.

And then it hit me.

“Tobias.”

The bastard. Mom was right. Tobias always had his eye on this shit. Six years, and he still couldn’t get over the idea of trying to pull something from my family’s grasp. But why the hell would he want this now? Conrad was dead; the world had moved on.

“He’s been after Conrad’s plans all along.”

Laurene’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “Reese?—”

“It could explain everything—why he’d been so interested in Conrad’s work back then, why he was lurking around, pretending to be concerned. Why he’s back now.”

“Reese, calm down.” She stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “He didn’t say that earlier?—”

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