Summer at Oyster Bay: A gorgeous feel good summer romance by Jenny Hale Page B

had a close call.” Her answer just sort of came out in a rush as if she’d wanted to tell it to him, yet she never told strangers this kind of thing, especially not someone she worked for. All her friends had called after that awful meal, but she’d only barely managed to talk to Rachel.
    “What kind of close call?” He didn’t seem overly bothered by the personal conversation, although he didn’t look totally relaxed either.
    “I almost…” Should she say it? “I almost married the wrong person.”
    A look of shock sprung to his face, but he quickly regained composure. Why had she just told him that? What was she doing? Was it the comforting feeling of being back on the island?
    He studied her face for a moment before speaking. “Almost?” he asked, visibly curious.
    She’d already told him too much. This wasn’t like her at all. He was her boss—her boss’s boss! But he was watching her, waiting for her answer. “I realized that I didn’t love the man I’d spent three years with. He proposed and I had to tell him, ‘No’.”
    “I’m sorry.” He looked uncomfortable. Emily inwardly scolded herself for telling him anything at all. What in the world was going on with her?
    All of a sudden, he said, “I understand,” and looked out at the water.
    “You do?”
    “Yes. I was with the wrong person as well. But I married her. I knew it wasn’t right, but I kept thinking that maybe we could make it work. I should’ve known better.”
    “Well, at least we learned from it.”
    They fell into an awkward silence for a moment, and Emily wondered if he felt as odd as she did having shared a glimpse of his personal life.
    “Things certainly are different here,” he said, looking down at his hands as he buried his fingers in the sand. “I have to confess that I don’t know how to reach someone like Rocky McFadden. I’ve dealt with communities who didn’t want me to build before, but usually it all came down to money, and in the end, I was granted building permits. But what do I fall back on if money isn’t persuasive enough?”
    “You’re creative—I can already tell. You’ll figure something out.” Emily was struggling. Even though the conversation had returned to business, she was starting to feel the line blur. She shouldn’t be telling these things to him, nor should she be hearing his story. She stood up and brushed off her bottom. “I wanted to show you how we relax around here, so I brought you to this island.” She looked out again at the bay, now dotted with a few more sailboats. “I should probably get you back so you can prepare for the meeting.”
    He stood up beside her and followed her to the boat.

    G ram was asleep by the time Emily returned from the marina. She went to bed thinking about Charlie, her mind spinning with thoughts of how to help him convince the planning commission to make changes to the inn, but worrying that she might see Rocky’s side as well. She didn’t want to get caught in the middle of anything. The excitement of the night and the constant thinking about tomorrow’s meeting made her sleep lightly, and her shoulders ached the next morning.
    As she walked downstairs, rubbing her neck with one hand, she could hear Gram whistling in the kitchen.
    “Mornin’, sunshine!” she said with a spatula in one hand and her cane in the other. I’ve got scrambled eggs, bacon, and fried tomatoes for breakfast! The biscuits are still in the oven to keep warm. Grab me the butter, would you, dear?”
    Emily retrieved the butter from the fridge and handed it to Gram, so thankful to be home with her again.
    “How was dinner?”
    “Good.”
    Gram turned around. “You all right?” Gram’s face was overly concerned, worried even.
    “I’m fine,” she said in the most convincing way she could. She noticed relief flood Gram’s face. What was she so worried about? It had only been a bad night’s sleep. “I’ll come back for breakfast if that’s okay. I need fresh