Jim Boz, head of the planning and zoning department, approached him. “Hey, boss. Darla invite you, too?”
“The invitation said all were welcome. Looks like Darla rallied the town.”
Boz chuckled. “Give her an inch…”
Shelly sailed toward them, a tray in her hand. “Care for a virgin Sea Breeze? Specialty of the house. Cranberry and grapefruit juice with lime. Very refreshing.” She plucked one and handed it to Bennett.
He gripped the glass, grateful for something to do with his hands. “I heard you got your first guests.”
Shelly grinned. “Bet you’ve been talking to Darla. I think she’s been tracking our guests’ every move.”
“Word travels fast in this town.” Bennett sipped the juice concoction and nodded approvingly.
“That’s why we’re having an open house,” Shelly said. “So the word will spread like wildfire.” She handed him a printed Sea Breeze recipe card from a stack. “Take one of these, too.”
Chief Clarkson joined their group. “Someone say wildfire?” he asked, frowning.
“Just as it relates to the Summer Beach gossip line,” Shelly said, handing the chief a juice cocktail.
“We take fires seriously in California,” the chief said. “Had a brush fire on the ridge this morning, but it’s under control. Not too far from your place, Bennett.”
“Hot weather, low humidity, and stiff winds are a bad recipe for dangerous fire conditions,” Bennett said.
Shelly shuddered. “Fires, earthquakes. Might as well throw in a tsunami, too.”
“Had a water spout off the coast last year,” Boz offered. “Didn’t you know those are the seasons of the California coast?” He chuckled. “But the mayor here runs a disaster preparedness class every year.”
“Even in paradise, you have to be ready for a potential disaster.” Through an open butler’s pantry door, Bennett saw Mitch unpacking coffee and pastries. “Excuse me, I need to speak to Mitch.”
At the mention of his name, Shelly’s face paled, and she hurried off. Bennett wondered what had transpired between them.
“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here,” Bennett said, tapping the card Shelly had given him.
Mitch shook his head. “Ivy wouldn’t take no for an answer. Figured I might as well join the club. Looks like a big crowd.”
“Everyone is curious.” Bennett eyed his friend. “Looks like you are, too.”
Mitch shrugged off his comment. “Hey, I’m here to do business and keep my head down. Shelly stopped returning my calls, but business is business. Complicated women are just that. Complicated.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” As Bennett watched Ivy greet other guests, glowing rays from the setting sun streamed through the windows, bathing her in burnished golden light.
When she turned toward him, he suddenly realized why she seemed so familiar to him. In that particular light and in that diaphanous pink dress, she looked as she had years ago on the beach, bathed in moonlight and dancing around the summer bonfire in a pink sundress. There was no doubt in his mind now. Ivy had been his first crush.
Although they’d hardly spoken, he’d lost his heart to her. All summer he had lived yearning to catch a glimpse of her, hoping every day that she would be at the beach with her friends. Yet when he’d finally found the courage to ask her out, she’d disappeared. He’d searched for her, but her friends said she was on her way back east.
A lot had changed in his life since then, but he’d never forgotten her, or how heartbroken he’d been when she’d left. She had been his impossible dream.
No wonder she had his emotions tied up in knots.
Chapter 31
“THANK YOU ALL for coming,” Ivy said as she gazed across the converted ballroom, which comfortably held the crowd that had gathered. Feeling confident, she raised her glass, taking care not to catch Bennett’s strangely intense gaze.
Instead, Ivy looked at her mother, who had a proud smile on her face. “Here’s to a new chapter of Amelia Erickson’s Las Brisas del Mar, which we now call the Seabreeze house. A place for gathering and relaxing on the shores of Summer Beach.”
“Here, here,” Nan said as she began clapping. Arthur joined in, as did many other people.
When the applause subsided, Ivy went on. “Speaking of Seabreeze, we’re hoping for a cool breeze right now, in fact.”
A chuckle rippled across the crowd. “An early summer,” someone called out.
Ivy fanned herself. “And please welcome our first iBnB guests, Megan and Josh from Seattle, who have joined us, too.” She fluttered her fingers in a little wave to the young couple, who were seated nearby.
As it turned out, Megan was a documentary filmmaker, and an idea was quickly forming in Ivy’s mind. Amelia Erickson was a fascinating character shrouded in mystery. Maybe there was a story there for Megan.
Ivy refocused her attention and carried on. “Our ultimate goal is to turn this house into a gathering place for the community,” she said. “This summer, I’ll host painting classes, and Shelly will give gardening instruction and tours. But we want to do even more for the community.”
Shelly put her tray down and joined her. “Amelia Erickson was a patron of the arts,” Shelly said. “We want to continue her legacy by welcoming artists of all kinds. We’d like to host book clubs and authors in the library and musicians in the music room. We can host dinner parties and small events, and also provide lodging for your friends and family members. But to do all that, we need to be more than an iBnB host.”
“We need your support to transform our vision into the new Seabreeze Inn,” Ivy added, letting her passion imbue her delivery. “I’ve already filed the paperwork for rezoning, and I hope we can count on your support to realize our vision, which will be such an asset to the community.”
A murmur rose across the crowd, and Ivy cast a glance at Darla. Her arm shot up, nearly dislodging her sparkly visor.
Here we go, Ivy thought. “Yes, Darla?”
“What about the noise and parking? This is a residential neighborhood.” Darla’s tone was already confrontational.
“Just across the
