Page 13 of Meet Me at the Grand

He wasn’t in Kansas—or rather, Los Angeles—anymore.

Liam stared from the window at the approaching island beneath the “air taxi,” which was no more than a tiny puddle jumper that looked like it had seen better days—with a pilot to match. For some reason, the shape of the island reminded him of those beehive hairdos women had worn in the 1950s, though one that slightly listed to the right.

Dad had told him the hotel, along with the rest of downtown, was located on the southern tip of the island, and as they flew overhead, Liam saw a large harbor with boats dotting the white surf where the island met the surrounding Lake Huron.

The pictures he’d looked at on his phone had shown a quaint town, something almost out of another world—a town time forgot. According to his very quick online search, they didn’t even use motor vehicles, just bicycles and horse buggies to get around.

Hopefully they at least had Wi-Fi.

“Don’t get many visitors in these parts at this time of year.” The pilot’s voice came through Liam’s headset, crackly and tinny. Then, the guy—Pete—twisted slightly in his seat to look back at Liam. “Will you be here long?”

Hopefully not. The sooner he worked out the details of the hotel renovation with the town, the sooner Liam could get Rob out here—and get back to his own plans. “You know, Pete, I’m not quite sure.”

“Must be from the city, I’ll betcha.” Pete, who had the bushiest, wiriest eyebrows Liam had ever seen, looked Liam up and down.

“Los Angeles.” Liam smiled. “How could you tell?”

That made Pete snort and turn back around in his seat. “Don’t see too many suits is all. Most folks round here are all about functionality and comfort.” That was definitely true of Pete, who was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt with a puffy navy-blue vest and a weathered ball cap on his head. “And California?” He whistled. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you freeze while you’re here. Unless you were smart enough to bring a coat.”

“I packed one in my bag, but read you guys are having a warm snap, so I doubt I’ll have to dig it out.”

“A warm snap here is probably colder than the coldest day in your parts.”

“Thanks for the tip, but I’m sure I’ll be okay.” He’d worked at plenty of job sites around the world, after all. Sure, the only time he’d landed in the Midwest had been July and August, but how cold could it really be if the ferry was already running?

Speaking of the ferry, it was going to be one of Liam’s main challenges—specifically, getting building supplies from Port Joseph on the Upper Peninsula to the island. It could possibly cause some delays. But Liam was willing to figure it out for his dad’s sake.

For the sake of his future.

And really, it would most likely be Rob’s problem, since Liam would be long gone by the time it came to renovate.

“Who did you say you were visiting while you’re here?” Pete’s tone lilted up at the end, laced with curiosity and something else. Suspicion, maybe?

“I didn’t.” Because from what Dad had said, Seb wanted secrecy, at least at first. “I’ve got a meeting with someone, though, and?—”

“Ah. Attorney-client privilege. I get it.”

Liam wanted to laugh at the assumption, though he supposed to Pete he might look like an attorney in his favorite blue, two-piece, micro-pattern wool Armani suit and brown leather penny loafers. “Thanks for understanding, buddy. Hey, would you mind letting me get a good look at the island on our flight? It’s my first time here.”

“Sure.” Pete lowered the nose of the old bucket of bolts, and they got a bit closer to the island. “Hang on.”

Bracing himself, Liam peered through the filmy plane window. He still couldn’t make out many details of the downtown area, though most of the buildings seemed to be located on one main street.

To the east of downtown, there was an expanse of green—most likely a park of some sort—and more official-looking white buildings were north of that. Maybe a school too. Huge clumps of trees coming back to life after winter filled in any empty spaces. Liam’s very limited research—conducted on his two flights here—had shown that Jonathon Island had once been a popular, bustling tourist destination for hiking, horseback riding, and biking, so there were probably trails hidden under the trees’ branches.

Pete swung the plane westward, and they zoomed back over the downtown. Neighborhoods spread out from the main town into the island like veins and arteries branching off a heart, and Liam squinted in the direction of the hotel, which, according to the map on his phone, was west of the downtown. But then Pete turned north, and Liam couldn’t make out the hotel’s details. No matter. He and Seb would be getting a personalized tour by the director of tourism once Seb picked him up from the airport.

Pete took them northwestward, skimming along the western coast, where a slew of large homes were clustered together. A paved roadway hugged the curves of the bluffs and vistas that likely created stunning views at sunset.

As they made their way toward the northern tip of the island, he glimpsed a lighthouse and a stately home sitting alone on several acres. “Who lives there?”

“That would be the Jonathon family, of Jonathon Island fame. They’ve been here for more than two hundred years, and Seb Jonathon owns almost all of the real estate downtown.”

“Wow, I had no idea.” Though he should have figured that, given Seb shared a name with the island, he would be an important man here. “Does that cause a lot of friction, one person owning so much?”

“I think you’ll find people here are much kinder than you might be used to.” Pete paused. “We look out for our own.”

Then the plane dipped, and Liam gripped his seat.Note to self: don’t make the pilot mad.“I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Liam’s heart rate slowed as the plane leveled out and Pete circled the northeastern shore, where a red barn sat on a stretch of farmland. “I didn’t know Jonathon Island had farms.”

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