Page 16 of The Library of Second Chances
“A town that respects its history.” Logan nodded. “That’s part of what makes this place special.”
They both grew quiet as they passed under the shade of the towering oaks. Spanish moss danced in the wind, giving the square an ethereal quality with light filtering through in tiny beams across the square. Maybe if Lucy could show Logan what she loved about Heron Isle, he’d be more empathetic to the concerns she and most of the other locals shared. She understood why the town felt something had to change on the waterfront, but it didn’t have to be a massive shopping and entertainment complex. The problem was, neither she nor anyone else opposed to the last round of development plans had been able to come up with anything else that would be profitable enough to help bolster the town’s budget.
They sat on a bench at the marina overlooking the docks, a light breeze blowing the salty scent of the sea in their direction. Gulls swirled overhead and brown pelicans waddled at the edges of the boat slips hoping for scraps from the fishermen whowere loading their boats to head out for the day. The serious commercial fishermen would already be on the water, but the charter-boat captains were just preparing to welcome their guests. Fishing was better at sunrise, but tourists could rarely be bothered to get up so early on vacation.
“What do you envision for the waterfront when you sit here?” Logan’s voice was low and even as he looked over at Lucy. He had the deep tenor of a deejay on a slow jazz station.
Just one more sexy quality she had to work to ignore.
Lucy focused on stirring her iced coffee with her straw to avoid his gaze. “A fixed-up version of what’s already here? We all love the restaurant, and someone suggested we could add an open-air seafood market where the local fishermen could sell their catches. I like that idea because aside from the two hotel resorts, most of our accommodations are beach cottages that families come to stay in for a week at a time, so they like being able to cook with local ingredients. Plus, if we had something open-air, we’d be able to see through it to the water instead of blocking the view with a giant building.”
Logan lifted one leg to prop his ankle on his opposite knee, his expression thoughtful. “Hmm, I like that. Something that would benefit both the locals and the tourists, and preserves the visual connection between the water and downtown. But how do you bring in more tourists?”
“Who said we wanted to bring in more?” Lucy laughed. “There are plenty of folks here who want to find a way to help the town bring in more revenue without compounding our infrastructure problems by increasing tourism. All the accommodations we have maintain high occupancy rates. If you start bringing in more visitors, then you start needing more hotels, more parking, more lanes on the roads.”
“What if they came in on cruise ships? Then they wouldn’t be staying in hotels or driving cars. They’d pull up to dock here andspill into town to shop and eat. That would be good for everyone, right?”
“Cruise ships?” Lucy shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. You’d have to routinely dredge the channel, which disturbs the marine life. Then there’s the waste and oil that pollutes the water. There go the fish the fishermen and restaurants depend on that draw so many of the tourists in the first place.” She paused to take a breath of the warm salty air, steadying the frantic pace of her speech, before continuing. “Then there are all the boat strikes to manatees, right whales, you name it.”
“Lucy, I’m not talking the kind of cruise ships that shuttle thousands of people to the Bahamas,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m talking about small ships that ferry one hundred people or less along the Eastern Seaboard. They go into places like Charleston, Beaufort, and Savannah. We could get them to come a little farther south and add Heron Isle.”
“That might solve the dredging issue, but it doesn’t change the other environmental issues any size cruise brings with it.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at Logan. “We changed our code years ago to prohibit pretty much anything bigger than a shrimping boat. I don’t think anyone here wants to be a cruise ship destination.”
“But you could be.” Logan flashed his full watt, sun-blinding smile that showed off every gleaming tooth. “Those cruise ships pay a per-guest tax plus docking fees, not to mention what the people who disembark spend in town while they’re here. I bet they’d love to grab a book or two from your store to read while they’re cruising.” He raised an eyebrow in her direction, but went on when she continued to scowl. “What if we just brought in someone from the cruise line to make a presentation? Then we could all weigh the risks and benefits together.”
Lucy frowned. “What else do you have?”
“Well, I heard you used to have one of those casino boats here?—”
Lucy cut him off. “And where are all those people going to park to board the boat?” She gestured around her. “And it didn’t do squat for the business owners downtown. People just came in, parked, went out on the boat for dinner, got back around midnight and left again. There’s a reason we don’t have one anymore.”
“I heard the reason was that the company running the boat went under. Poor management. If you can get a proven company to come in, they can provide jobs for locals and you’ll generate revenue from the docking fee and taxes. I worked with a great one up in Baltimore.” He sounded genuinely proud of his solution.
“And you have the stats to prove they contributed to the local economy in a way ours didn’t before?” Lucy motioned toward the waves crashing on the nearby beach. “There’s plenty to do here. We don’t need more entertainment. If you can’t find something to do here, that’s more of a reflection on you than on our town.” She raised an eyebrow.
Logan held up his hands in surrender, his tone softening. “Okay, let’s hear what else you have. Open-air seafood market. That’s a solid start. What else?”
“It was suggested that a few kiosks could be added along the seawall overlooking the docks to serve food. Kind of like food trucks but more stationary. People would rent them out. Maybe it would attract some creative new chefs who just don’t have the money for a full-size restaurant yet.”
Logan nodded. “That’s not a bad one either. What about the restaurants downtown? Would they support it?”
He sounded more hopeful than she felt.
“Hard to say. They’re all pretty supportive of one another, and during the busy season they’re all so full we could useanother option or two. I know we can’t make everyone happy, but we can at least try to help people more than we hurt.”
“I really like that one if we can get the buy-in from the restaurants. Let’s keep that on the list.” He gave her a smile before looking out over the marina and taking a long drink of his coffee.
What did he see when he looked around the waterfront with fresh eyes free from nostalgia? She was surprised by how receptive he had been to her ideas, but she knew an open-air seafood market and a few food kiosks weren’t going to bring in the same money as a new retail complex with cruise ships and casino boats pulling into the marina. One good conversation wasn’t going to change the fact that Logan had been hired to focus on the bottom line, but at least she knew now what he planned to pitch. She let herself take in one final breath of Logan’s warm pine-scented cologne. It was intoxicating. She hoped the gulls calling out overhead kept him from hearing the sigh that escaped her lips. Absolutely nothing about this man’s presence was fair.
Eight
Logan
Logan pinched his nose between his eyes. He’d been poring over the town’s financial statements and contracts since he’d finished his conversation with Lucy. He understood where she was coming from, he really did. But he couldn’t get caught up in nostalgia and emotion. He had a job to do, and they hadn’t come up with any ideas they could both agree on that would produce the kind of money Heron Isle needed. Besides, three of the seven commissioners had already made it clear they expected a new development on the waterfront. They’d assured him they could get the fourth vote if Logan could come up with the right proposal.
The sound of his cell finally pulled his eyes away from his spreadsheets, which were all beginning to blur together.
“Hey, man,” he said to his best friend from college, Cameron Fuller.
