Page 6 of Saltwater Memories
Chapter 3
This guy wasn’t going to give up easily, was he?
At first, Amanda was startled when she saw him. She thought he’d followed her to the ferry and that Lenny might not be far behind.
But the more that he talked to her (rather, talkedather), the more she realized that this guy was on his own, and that Lenny would probably never want to return to San Juan Island to face her (or her dad) again.
Margie had upgraded Amanda’s purse to have a reasonably sized can of pepper spray. She casually reached over to her purse to make sure it was still there.
“Really? You think that I owe you something?”
He flashed a smile – a charmer, for sure.
“I’d prefer an introduction to the island and its people,” he said. “But I’d settle for a single dry cleaned shirt.”
“A dry cleaner, eh?” Amanda crossed her arms. “There aren’t any dry cleaners on San Juan Island.”
“Really? See, this is the kind of expertise that I need. From an authority on rural island living.”
“I’m just pulling your leg,” she said. What kind of bumpkins did Will think lived on San Juan? Or was he just gullible?
“Ah. Of course.”
“I could introduce you to some of the other services that we simple country folk have on the island. The schoolhouse. The saloon. The…sheriff’s department.”
He smiled, leaning in. “How kind of you to welcome an outsider like me directly into the sheriff’s department.”
“Yes, the official welcome center for stalkers.” She cracked a smile. “On second thought, what if the people of San Juan Island don’t look favorably on companies that try to invade and take over their homes to turn a profit?”
He clasped his hands together on the table between them. “Then that’s good for me to know, too. Important for business.”
She had to resist the urge to scoff. Did hereallythink that she’d want to help him? “You’re all business, then? Tell me, Will – why did you go into finance?”
Without missing a beat, he replied, “For the money, of course.”
She laughed. “Fair enough. At least you’re honest about it.”
“Anyone who says anything different is a liar. But obviously, it’s more complicated than that. And I think there can be a balance.”
“You mean a work-life balance?” Amanda didn’t need another guy in a suit lecturing her on work-life balance. Last month, they had a work meeting scheduled from six until eight in the evening to talk about work-life balance. The irony of staying so late to discuss the importance of free time escaped management.
“No,” he shook his head. “Work-life balance doesn’t exist. I’m talking about a balance between our company making money and preserving the quaint charm of a community.”
“That’s one thing we can agree on.”
He raised an eyebrow. “The importance of preserving quaintness in an ever-changing world?”
“Well, yeah, that too. But greed is a surefire way to destroy any sort of wholesomeness.”
“Right.” He nodded. “It’s not in our best interest to turn the island into the next Vegas.”
That wasn’t much of a comfort. “Sure. But I meant about work-life balance being a lie. You’re right. Even the phrase makes me sick.Work-life.” She scoffed. “As though it should be fifty-fifty. Here’s work, that’s one of the halves – and the other half is everything else in your life: family, friends, going to the library, baking…as though the goal is to make work half of your life.”
He smiled. “You’re right. Though the goal of work is, of course, to absorb as much of your life as it can. For me, work is about being able to create your own freedom. And that’s why I like finance – with the right skills and hard work, I can actually make some money.”
“Money to buy back your freedom?”
He smiled. “Sure. Timeismoney, after all.”
