Page 42 of The Wexley Inn
As she got ready for bed, she found herself thinking about Thomas’s comment about island gossip. The rumors about their past relationship didn’t really bother her. She had come to Wexley Island to start fresh and build her own legacy. She didn’t expect that the process would require confronting old wounds, or that the man who once broke her heart would become vital to her plans’ success. And she definitely didn’t expect how difficult it would become to remember why she built those careful walls in the first place.
Whether the transformation would lead to anything beyond their current professional relationship remained to be seen, but for now, she was content that progress had been made in both.
The board's conditional approval was another victory, despite Grayson’s attempts at sabotage. But as Isabella turned off the light, she realized that the real challenge wasn’t the architectural review boards or the paint analysis requirements.
The real challenge was figuring out whether she could trust her growing feelings for Thomas - or if she was risking the same heartbreak that had nearly destroyed her thirty years ago. Because every shared laugh, every moment of perfect teamwork, every time their eyes met across a room, she felt the walls crumbling a little more.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. Tonight, she simply acknowledged that the careful professional distance she'd maintained was becoming harder to defend with each passing day.
CHAPTER 11
Thomas stood at his kitchen counter, chopping vegetables for dinner. Emma would be arriving from Atlanta within the hour for her weekend visit, and he wanted to ensure they shared a proper meal. These visits had become more frequent since she’d met Isabella and shown interest in the renovation, which pleased him but also made him a bit uneasy.
The sound of his phone ringing interrupted his methodical food preparation. He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and looked at the caller ID. It was Emma.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he answered. “Are you on your way?”
"Just crossed the causeway," she said, her tone a bit too casual. "Be there in fifteen.”
“Well, perfect timing. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Sounds great. Oh, and Dad, I was thinking maybe we could invite Isabella to join us tomorrow night. I brought some design magazines with ideas for the inn’s marketing materials I wanted to show her.”
He paused, his knife hovering over a red bell pepper. This was the third time Emma had suggested including her in their plans during her visits. While he appreciated his daughter’s acceptance of Isabella, he couldn’t help but wonder about her motivations.
“I’m sure Isabella has her own plans for the weekend,” he said carefully. “I thought we were going fishing tomorrow.”
“We can do both,” Emma chirped. “Fishing in the morning, dinner with Isabella in the evening. Besides, I already texted her to see if she’s free.”
Thomas sighed. “Emma, you shouldn’t put Isabella on the spot like that.”
“Oh, relax, Dad. I just asked if she had plans. She hasn’t even responded yet.” Her tone turned more serious. “Unless you don’t want her to join us for some reason. Is something wrong between you two? I thought the board meeting went well.”
“Everything is fine,” he said. “The meeting was a success. We got conditional approval with minimal modifications. But I don’t want you playing matchmaker, Emma. Isabella and I have a professional relationship, and it’s working well. I don’t want to complicate that unnecessarily.”
“Who said anything about matchmaking?” Emma replied with an exaggerated innocence that didn’t fool Thomas for a minute. “I just want to discuss those marketing ideas. That’s all. Very professional.”
He shook his head, though his daughter couldn’t see it. “We’ll talk about this when you get here.”
After hanging up, Thomas returned to his dinner preparations. Emma’s interest in connecting with Isabella had shifted from initial wariness to active encouragement of a closer relationship. While he appreciated that his daughter had formed her own positive opinion of Isabella, her transparent attempts at pairing them as a couple created a very awkward dynamic that he wasn’t sure how to navigate.
The truth was, his feelings for Isabella had grown increasingly complicated as they worked together. Their professional collaboration had turned into genuine respect and a tentative friendship. Moments like their kayaking trip to the hidden cove or their celebratory dessert after the board meeting had created a comfortable connection that might have suggested something deeper. However, significant barriers remained, including the unresolved truth about why he had ended their relationship thirty years earlier.
Emma knew that story now, but Isabella didn’t, and until she did, any deeper connection between them would be built on an incomplete foundation.
The sound of Emma’s car in the driveway pulled Thomas from the thoughts he was having. He pushed aside his concerns and focused on welcoming his daughter, happy to see her regardless of her matchmaking schemes.
She burst through the door with her typical energy, dropping her weekend bag in the entryway, and hugged him. An adult herself, she was a successful professional with her own life. Still, something about her returning to the island always seemed to reconnect her with a more carefree version of herself.
“Something smells great,” she said, looking over his shoulder at the kitchen counter. “Please tell me that’s your famous paella.”
“With extra shrimp just for you,” he said. “So how was the drive?”
“Not bad. I left early enough to beat the worst of the Atlanta traffic.”
She moved around the kitchen with familiar ease, grabbing plates and glasses while Thomas finished making the meal.
“The island looks stunning right now with all the summer flowers blooming, and the evening light is breathtaking.”
