Lucy's Last Chance Read online

“Mayor Holden, how can I help you?” All thoughts of commercial property left his mind as he continued his day in the job he loved, being mayor of Moonshire Bay.

  Chapter 3

  Lucy opened the door to the Flower Power flower shop, where she was meeting her friend, Rachel, for a flower-arranging class. The owner, Heather, held the class on the first Saturday of the month.

  While Lucy didn’t know much about flowers, she was always eager to learn new things. And she enjoyed spending time with her friend, so the flower arranging was just a bonus.

  As she walked in, she saw Rachel and waved to her with a smile.

  The two women hugged before Lucy said, “Have you been waiting long?”

  “No. Just a couple minutes. You want to grab some coffee after this and catch up? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “I’d love that. I don’t have a class until 4:30, so my entire afternoon is open until then.”

  Before Lucy and Rachel could continue their conversation, a woman came over to greet them and the few other women that were milling about, waiting for the class to start.

  “Hi, everyone. I’m Heather Alstop and I own Flower Power. I recognize some of you from previous classes and I see a few new faces. If you follow me to the back room, we’ll get started and I promise, if nothing else, you will have fun.”

  Heather turned and motioned for the women to follow her. There were eight in all. As they filed into the back room, Lucy leaned closer to her friend.

  “I know nothing about flowers,” she whispered. “So you have to promise you can’t make fun of anything I come up with.”

  Rachel laughed. “No worries. I will never be good at it either, but it’s actually a lot of fun.”

  Heather got them set up at their stations and began explaining the proper way to cut flowers.

  Within the first couple minutes, Lucy gained a nugget of information, realizing why the flowers she’d received or had bought herself over the years died within a couple days. She’d been trimming them all wrong. That alone was worth the nominal cost of the class.

  The rest of the ninety-minute class went quickly, and soon Rachel and Lucy were walking out with arrangements of spring flowers that were more beautiful than Lucy had expected.

  “Should we take these with us? I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave them in a hot car, and I would hate to ruin my masterpiece,” Lucy said with a grin.

  Rachel smiled. “Plus, we did such a good job that we should show them off. Do you want to go to May’s Café or the coffee shop?”

  “I’d love to go to the coffee shop. I’m completely hooked on that crème brûlée latte.”

  The two of them walked from the flower shop to The Grinding Moonbeam, where Hillary, one of their friends and the owner of the café, was working.

  “I can see you attended Heather’s class today,” Hillary commented. “Nice job, ladies. I went to one of her classes a couple months ago and my flower arrangement didn’t turn out nearly as good.”

  Lucy and Rachel thanked her for the compliment and the coffee, then took their iced lattes and went out to the small outdoor garden seating area. It was one of Lucy’s favorite spots in all of Moonshire Bay.

  Years ago, Hillary’s grandmother, Joan Bear, had created an English garden look in the café’s outdoor area. The flowers were not only fragrant and beautiful in color, but were laid out in such a way that even though the area was small, it felt spacious. Even when all of the tables were being used, which was often during nice weather, patrons didn’t feel crowded. Lucy liked to come here by herself sometimes and just relax.

  “So, tell me what’s going on with that property you’re interested in,” Rachel prompted as she took a sip of her drink.

  Lucy’s eyes danced with excitement as she told her friend the latest developments.

  “I got the pre-approval letter for the loan, and Vivian is going to send the offer over as soon as I attend the zoning committee meeting next week. Once I can confirm that there are no plans to change the zoning from mixed-use, we’ll submit my offer and hope for the best. I’m feeling optimistic. Vivian said it’s pretty much just a formality.”

  “That’s great. The building—I think the locals call it the Foster House—is really beautiful with all those gorgeous crown moldings.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “I never took square-dancing lessons there—it was closed before I moved to Moonshire—but I did attend a bazaar there a few months ago that the Girl Scouts put on. I only saw the bottom floor, but the studio is spacious. As crowded as your classes have been lately, it’s exactly what you need.”

  “I know. It was a smart decision to put that coupon in the Chamber of Commerce tourist welcome bag. I’ve been shocked at how many women, and men, have come in to redeem their free class and left with a two-week membership. Even if they don’t plan to be in town the full two weeks, they’ve all said it was worth it.”

  “Well, without the tourists, our little town wouldn’t thrive nearly as well.”

  “That’s the truth. Speaking of tourists, the last few times I’ve driven by Evan’s Bar, it looked like it was hopping.”

  Rachel’s fiancé, Evan, was the proprietor of a bar and grille called Evan’s Bar, a popular local hangout. But since it had a room with a couple pool tables, dartboards, and foosball tables, it was also a popular tourist hangout.

  “We’ve been slammed. In fact, I’ve been helping them out waiting tables because it’s gotten so busy. He needs to hire another person and just hasn’t had a chance to find anyone yet. But I don’t mind. I haven’t waited tables since college, which was a long time ago, so it’s kind of fun. Though after a couple hours my feet are killing me,” Rachel admitted.

  “I’m sure mine would be too. There are days when teaching several yoga classes in a row wears me out and I’m not even doing the entire class with them.”

  “What made you switch from being a lawyer to yoga?” Rachel said, changing the subject. “I’ve always wondered, but I’ve never really asked. I hope it’s not too personal. If it is, you don’t have to answer.”

  The question didn’t surprise Lucy at all, as it was one she often got when she met new people and they started trading stories about backgrounds. Since she and Rachel hadn’t been friends that long, Rachel didn’t know Lucy’s story.

  Years ago, Lucy had been one of the top defense attorneys in Detroit. Some might say the Midwest, but Lucy wouldn’t go that far. She’d planned her legal career from the time she was a child. Her parents were driven people, although they were both doctors, not lawyers. They had hoped she’d follow in their footsteps, but Lucy had never liked the medical profession. Even now she was squeamish when she had blood drawn, but as a child she’d watched Perry Mason reruns and had known immediately she wanted to be a lawyer. She’d worked her whole life to get where she wanted to be, or at least thought she wanted to be, and then it all came crashing down.

  “I don’t mind talking about it. I just realized that I didn’t enjoy what I was doing anymore. I didn’t enjoy the rat race and needed to make a change.” That was a much more simplified version of the story, but it was the one she typically stuck with. It was much easier than saying she’d snapped under pressure.

  “I commend you for being strong enough to make that kind of change, especially since the professions are so different.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Yeah, they definitely are different, but I had been practicing yoga as a way to de-stress and re-center myself for years, and when I decided I needed to make a career change, it was all I could think of. Helping other people achieve the same sense of peace that I’d been able to achieve.” Lucy figured if yoga had provided a safe haven for her after what she went through, then it definitely could help other women.

  “It’s hard figuring out what to do when you grow up,” joked Rachel.

  “I know. We were raised on the idea that you go to school and get a job and then you retire, but there are so many things I st
ill want to do professionally and otherwise,” Lucy said. Though she’d closed that chapter, she thought of practicing law more often than she’d liked. Helping people out every once in a while, which she had the opportunity to do in Moonshire, needed to be enough, but sometimes it wasn’t.

  “What about you? Will you keep working at Evan’s?”

  “Not long-term. This is just to help him out. I’m not sure I want to work with him all day and then come home to him at night. Though so far, it hasn’t been bad.”

  Lucy looked at Rachel wistfully. Rachel had come into town and very quickly hit it off with Evan. The two were now poster children for how great a relationship could be in midlife the second time around, but Lucy didn’t think she could ever open her heart again. She’d had what she thought was the great love of her life and then realized how incredibly wrong she’d been. She didn’t know if it would be worth it to open her heart like that for anyone else, even if Brandt Holden made it very tempting.

  Chapter 4

  Brandt walked up the stairs to the front door of his family home and opened the door as he called out, “Hello? Anybody home?”

  “Of course we’re home, silly,” his mom, Marie, said as she poked her head out of the kitchen, then crossed the room to grab him for a big hug. “Your brother and dad are out back doing something with the grill. You want to grab a beer and take it out there?”

  The Holden Sunday family dinners were a constant in Brandt’s life and always had been. Even during the ten years he was married, he and his now ex-wife, Connie, had come almost every Sunday for dinner. Connie hadn’t been fond of the tradition. It was among the many things she hadn’t been fond of, as it turned out.

  Connie wasn’t a bad person—they had been ill-suited from the beginning, and were young and didn’t realize at the time that love didn’t always win out. Brandt wanted to live in Moonshire Bay to start his political career. She had never been a fan of the small town and wanted to live in the city. She felt he could set his sights higher than to start as mayor of a small town. Finally, it was evident that neither was willing to compromise, and they were living separate lives. It wasn’t long before they took the final step to divorce and went their separate ways. It had been amicable and they were still friends, which he supposed was the best possible outcome when a marriage ended.

  “I’d love a beer, but I’d rather drink it in here and catch up with you for a while.”

  His mother smiled. “Have a seat and let me grab you one.”

  “I can get my own. No need to wait on me.”

  “Maybe I like it, so sit down,” Marie said sternly but with a twinkle in her eye.

  Brandt sighed and took a seat at the big island in the kitchen as his mom went to the refrigerator and grabbed his favorite IPA.

  He leaned back and opened one of the drawers, grabbed the bottle opener, popped the top, then put the bottle opener back, all without looking down. He had sat in this very spot more times than he could count, having grown up in this house. His mother was a great listener and he had poured out many of his troubles over a beer, or milk and cookies when he was younger. She had busied herself, always paying attention but never being so focused on him so he felt put on the spot, and it made it easy to talk. His mother had a knack for getting people to talk, that was for sure. He and Brian had never been able to hide things from her.

  “So how are things going in the campaigning department?” she asked while stirring something on the stove that smelled delicious.

  He took a pull of his beer before answering. “Really good, actually. My team did a feasibility study on the likelihood of me getting elected right now based on what I stand for and what people want, and it was favorable.”

  “That’s good, right? I’m sorry, Brandt, I just don’t know how all that works.”

  His mom had been a schoolteacher. She claimed she didn’t understand how campaigning for office worked, but he’d recognized over the years she claimed to not know how a lot of things worked to get him talking. It was one of her many talents.

  “Well, it’s like anything else. No one wants to back a loser, no matter how much they like the person. At the fundraising event we’re hosting next week, I’ll be able to give a speech on the outcome of that study and hopefully show more evidence of why I’m the strongest candidate and get people to open their wallets.” Brandt liked fundraising the least of the duties he had, but it was a necessary evil.

  “I might be biased, but anyone would be foolish not to back you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Any new female interests?” Her tone was casual, but he could hear the hopefulness in it. He had to stifle a smile. She was dying for grandchildren, and never missed an opportunity to ask him and Brian about their dating lives.

  “There is this one woman who owns the yoga studio,” he found himself saying, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like they’d been on a date, but lately it had been difficult to get her out of his mind.

  “Oh?”

  “I’m interested. Not sure she is.”

  “How could she not be?”

  The patio door slid open and his dad walked into the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Just catching up with Mom.”

  “Hon, did you want me to cook the corn and the asparagus, or just the corn?” his dad inquired.

  “I think both. But make sure to start the corn first, and I want it left in the husks.”

  “Of course, dear,” his dad said obediently, giving Brandt a wink. His parents, in their seventies, had been married over fifty years and had, at least in Brandt’s eyes, the best relationship of anyone he’d ever known. It made him that much more disappointed when his own marriage had failed. He believed strongly in the institution of marriage and family.

  “Grab the other tray of corn and come on out and tell me about this new commercial venture Brian said you guys are exploring.”

  As Brandt got up to follow his dad outside, he kind of wished Brian had held off on saying anything. Not that there was any reason to hide their plans, but he hated disappointing his dad, especially in matters of the business that their father and Uncle Steve had worked so hard to build.

  Brandt was confident the zoning committee meeting would be a formality, and he knew the town was supportive of anything that would improve its economy. However, he would have preferred to know that obstacle was taken care of before starting to talk more openly about the project. But there was no use worrying about it now.

  His dad walked back over to the grill while Brandt took the seat across from Brian at the outdoor table.

  “So, Brian tells me that you both think this property will increase enough in value to make it worth sinking that kind of money into it until it does,” Robert said as he flipped the burgers on the grill.

  “Yeah. I know it’s risky, and we don’t normally hold onto properties as long as we’ll probably need to on this one in order to make our money back. But as long as the property can be rezoned commercial, then I think, over the next few years, the rest of the space that’s already zoned commercial between where downtown ends and where this building is will fill up, and the town footprint will need to expand.”

  “A year ago I wouldn’t have agreed, but no one can argue how much the town’s tourist trade has increased. The town council and the Chamber of Commerce have done a great job at promoting our little slice of heaven. Although, to be honest, sometimes I wish they wouldn’t do such a good job,” Robert said, chuckling.

  Brandt and his brother nodded in agreement. Not that they, or anyone in town, was opposed to the tourists. Many people in Moonshire made their living off of them, but sometimes it was frustrating to have to fight the crowds to enjoy their town during peak season.

  His brother turned toward him. “When is the zoning meeting, Brandt?”

  “Tuesday at seven.”

  “Did you get a chance to look up anything about the architect?”

  Brandt nodded. “He was ma
inly a one-hit wonder, from what I could find. He moved to Florida after college, which is where he lived his entire adult life. He was commissioned by some millionaire to design a house in a premier area of South Beach, which at the time got tons of accolades, but he didn’t do much after that. So, from a historic standpoint, I don’t think we’re going to get much pushback. It’s not like it’s a Frank Lloyd Wright house or anything.”

  “Good. Then once that meeting is over and the zoning gets confirmed, I’ll put in our offer and we can get this deal sewn up.”

  Robert and Brian continued discussing business, but Brandt was barely paying attention. Instead, he was thinking back to what his mom said about how Lucy couldn’t help but be interested in him. Of course, this was his mom and she would say that, but he was a nice guy. Women seemed to find him decent looking, so why wasn’t Lucy willing to go on one date with him?

  He tried to recall anytime he might have upset or offended her, but she’d always seemed to enjoy his company. Lately, he’d caught her gaze lingering on him more than once.

  Something was holding her back from saying yes, and he was determined to find out what it was.

  Brandt felt plenty confident about the property his father and brother continued debating about all through the meal. He wished he felt as confident about convincing Lucy to get to know him better.

  By the time Sunday dinner was over, he’d decided that he was going to make it his mission to get that date.

  Chapter 5

  Lucy smoothed the front of her blue cotton dress feeling confident as she stood outside the room in the Moonshire Bay town offices. The zoning planning committee meeting was about to start, and she was waiting for the doors to open.

  Even though Vivian had assured her this was going to be a formality to re-certify the current dual-purpose use of the property, and had encouraged her to put the offer in prior to the meeting, the lawyer in Lucy was too cautious not to go in front of the committee and confirm this before officially submitting an offer. Lucy didn’t know why she was so nervous—she was no stranger to speaking in front of people—except she really wanted this to go well. She had her heart set on buying that building.