Chapter Sixteen

Wyatt pulled into the nearly empty gravel lot beside the Docks, a small wood building that served as the local bar and grill. He turned into a space, practically slamming on his brakes and muttering about Mrs. Anderson and her twenty-mile-an-hour driving.

Normally, he didn’t mind getting stuck behind the ninety-two-year-old and her ancient sedan. If anything, he enjoyed trying to come up with some wild adventure she might be getting up to. Meeting the ladies at the assisted-living facility for their weekly high-stakes poker game. A secret dalliance with Dr. Rosings behind the podiatrist office. A trip to the market to stock up on her favorite hard candy.

Okay, so that last one was less imagination and more accidentally running into her in the store’s candy aisle last month.

But today his patience had been short-lived, and he’d found himself grumbling as he slowly made his way through town behind her. It had been happening more and more lately, losing his temper over the tiniest things. Hopefully it would end soon because it was starting to affect his job.

He was supposed to be working on marketing ideas for the business, something to help it grow now that he’d lost his chance at the Bridal Belle spread four weeks ago. He’d told Tori the truth when he said he was happy for her, just as he’d also been honest about how disappointed he was. That magazine deal was supposed to fix all his problems, but it wasn’t going to. And now, like Tori said, it was time for him to take charge and write this next chapter himself.

He had to come up with something brilliant, and in order to do that, he first needed to do some research. Fun.

Wyatt slung a heavy backpack roughly over his shoulder and banged his truck door closed behind him. He walked up the long, wooden ramp as it twisted back and forth up to the door on one end, the other stretching down over sand toward a series of docks where a few small boats were tied in, their sails fluttering in the cool ocean breeze.

He was considered a regular here, part of the reason being that his sister waited tables almost every day and he wanted to support her. Mostly it was because of the fries. He usually came at least twice a week, though he’d been so busy he’d hardly come in at all in the last month. Not since he’d officially lost the Bedland wedding.

He didn’t return the hostess’s smile like he normally did, instead following her stoically to his usual table on the outside deck. At ten o’clock on a Thursday morning, the patio was practically empty—the typical lunch crowd didn’t start showing up for another hour—and in the quiet he could hear the sound of the ocean hitting the rocks beneath the deck’s wooden planks. Wyatt settled into his seat and pulled out the marketing and business books he’d brought with him. He stacked them on the table before picking one up and flipping through it.

This was all he’d been doing lately, sitting in his office reading about things like branding, analytics, and closed-loop something or other while trying to make heads or tails of any of it until he was ready to send each and every page of each book through the shredder. He’d hoped a fresh setting would help clear his head and give him a new perspective. But as he thumbed through a chapter on SEO for the website he barely even maintained, he realized it was a wasted effort.

He set the book down, removed his glasses, and rubbed his palms over his face. With his glasses returned, his attention drifted to the patio’s wooden railing beside him where the words “Hope even still?” were written in black Sharpie. The words were faded and worn, barely visible over the wood’s dark stain. Still, how had he never noticed them before? He ran his fingers over the writing.

Was it supposed to mean something? A code of some sort? The handwriting was messy, presumably a man’s, and the question mark left the whole thing open-ended. Like whoever scribbled it was waiting for a response even after all this time.

Most likely, Hope was a woman. A woman the Sharpie-wielding vandal had liked, connected with on an immensely deep level but couldn’t pursue for some stupid reason. Maybe they both owned businesses in a highly competitive industry and she didn’t think it was worth it, but even after accepting it, she was still the only woman who haunted his every waking thought.

Okay, he might be projecting a little bit with that one.

What was Tori up to now? Despite his request she not be a stranger, he’d seen her only in glimpses as she zipped about town in the last month. From what he’d heard, she was booking clients left and right, some of them coming from more than an hour away for the chance to hire her.

She made it look so easy. So why did he continue to struggle so much to figure out what seemed to come naturally to her?

As creative as you are, I know you’ll figure something out.

Too bad creativity was only a small part of it. Still, her faith in his abilities filled him with renewed determination. He gave the Sharpie message one last look before turning away from thoughts of Tori and the painfully uncreative story he’d been unfolding in his head. He needed to focus.

He picked up his book and ploughed back into it headfirst.

Search engine optimization means growing website traffic by increasing website visibility. SEO improves organic results, excluding direct traffic and paid placements.

Wyatt pinched the bridge of his nose. Would it be considered environmentally unfriendly to chuck this stupid book full of gibberish over the railing and into the water?

Thud. Wyatt snapped his book shut as a plate piled high with fries appeared at his table. Astrid frowned down at him. “You looked like you could use these.”

“Thanks.” He popped a fry into his mouth. They really were good. Almost good enough to make him forget the constant irritation prickling under his skin.

“You know, when Mila told me Wyatt was out here hard at work, I thought, surely she can’t mean my work-phobic brother.”

“I’m not work-phobic,” he grumbled.

She snorted. “Wy, ever since you started this business, it’s been almost impossible to keep you behind that desk for more than five minutes at a time. No offense, but you’re not exactly the hardworking type.”

“Well, maybe I’ve decided to try something new.”

“Sure, sure.” She sat in the chair across from him. “By any chance, would this newfound work ethic have anything to do with wanting to prove yourself to a certain other wedding planner in town?”

“No.”

Judging by the knowing smirk on her face, he’d said it too quickly. But in his defense, it wasn’t completely because of Tori. He’d told her once that he always felt like the odd man out as a kid, but what he hadn’t told her was that he still did most of the time. Especially when it came to his dad and his sister. They’d always been so similar. Driven, ambitious, always pushing for more. It was no surprise Astrid had decided to study business. And just like their father, she was a natural.

Wyatt seemed to be the only one who struggled to move his business forward, and Tori wasn’t the only one he felt a need to prove himself to.

“I see. So you want to tell me why you’re sitting here on a Thursday morning, two hours before lunch, burying your nose in a bunch of books?”

“Just trying to get some work done.”

“Since when does planning weddings involve such heavy reading?” She snatched a few books from his stack. “Marketing Made Easy,” she read one of the titles. “The Secret to Social Media, Small Business Growth for Dummies?” She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just that this explains the grumpy face you had while you were reading. And the sour mood you’ve been in the last few days. These books detail everything you hate about having a business.”

“Yeah, well, if I want to have any chance of getting better, I need to do better myself.”

“But why are you turning to a bunch of business self-help books anyway? Why didn’t you just ask me for help?”

“I wanted to be able to do something on my own for once.” Between his dad’s help starting the business and Astrid’s help running it, he’d already relied too much on others. And she wasn’t going to be around to offer that help much longer.

“Well, you don’t have to. We both know this stuff isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know, your talents lie more with the wedding stuff, so why don’t you just leave the growth and marketing part of it to me?”

Leave it to her? Just like that? But she’d seen how hard he was working on this. Why did it feel like she was telling him to give up? Wyatt felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. “You don’t think I can handle it.”

Her smile fell. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just that I went to school for this, so it makes sense that I work on it since I actually know what I’m doing.”

“Right.” She knew what she was doing, unlike him. He’d admitted it to himself a thousand times, but hearing the words from her mouth felt like a personal blow. “Well, maybe once you’ve had some real-life experience starting and running your own business, I’ll ask for your help. But until then, I’ll take care of my business myself.”

Astrid sat back in her seat, her face twisted like she’d just been hit, and Wyatt instantly regretted letting the words out. “Wow.” She looked away. “You’re right, Wyatt. Sorry for trying to help. I’ll be sure not to make that mistake again.” She stood, pushing in her chair.

“Wait, Astrid—”

She ignored him, and he was left alone on the restaurant patio, feeling like the biggest jerk who ever lived.