—Rob
Upon reading it, he wasn’t surprised after all.
The second message was a voice mail. From a developer named Jacob. Who wanted to meet.
—
Up close Jacob didn’t look like Tom at all, Anders realized, as he sat across from him in a booth at Rise Up Coffee. Or at least, the pictures he’d seen of Tom. They did have the same shorn blond hair, but that was where the similarities ended. Where Tom’s face was relaxed and open, Jacob’s was pinched and closed, his nose crooked, as though it had been broken at some point and never healed correctly.
Since sitting down, Jacob had explained that his phone calls to Piper were going unreturned and, being that she was his only point person on the island, their plans for the island were indefinitely on hold.
“OK, so what do you want from me?”
“I came across that podcast you did—and I was hoping you could talk to her for me.”
“Wish I could help you. Piper’s not talking to me either.”
Jacob pounded his fist on the table. “Dang it.”
Anders peered at him. “Why are you so invested in this? You could just move on to another project.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s just—I’ve always had a fascination with the island. My grandparents took me over to visit when I was a kid. Back then, a lot more people lived on it and it was kind of this bustling community, but its own separate place. I was enamored with it. When I started to see the articles about its imminent demise, I couldn’t imagine it not existing—what would happen to the people living on it?”
“You’re telling me you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Well, not exactly. I mean, it’s a passion project, yes. But I’m a capitalist, to be sure, and there’s money to be made here. It’s just that, unlike other developers, I do think the strength of that island is its uniqueness. I don’t want to change it by building a casino or making it an exclusive resort for wealthy people. I want to improve on what’s already there.”
Anders could see why Tom liked him. Jacob did seem honest—as honest as a real estate developer could be.
“Tell me about these ideas. Piper didn’t go into the details.”
Jacob sat up and Anders could see the excitement flash in his eyes. “First and foremost, they need a public ferry. BobDan does a great job, but his boat is small, so there are only so many tourists that can go over on a given day and there is only one time people can go. A public ferry could offer a cheaper fare, a more reliable schedule, and more frequent runs.”
Anders thought of all the times he’d been stranded on the island or wanting to go over or leave only to be at the whim of BobDan, and he agreed that was exactly what they needed.
Jacob went on to explain his plan to repair and upgrade the docks and marina, repave the roads, and rebuild the bulkheads, taller and sturdier to protect against the rising tides. “Once we get some of that basic infrastructure in place, then we can focus on the businesses open to the tourists, to make sure they’re being utilized to generate the most revenue possible.”
“I still don’t understand,” Anders said.
“What?”
“This all makes so much sense. Why is it so hard to convince them to do this?”
“Trust,” Jacob said, echoing the same explanation Piper had given. “If I invest my money, then they’re afraid they’ll lose control over their community. I can’t blame them, really. Corporations and developers don’t have a great track record for keeping communities’ best interests at heart.”
Anders stared at him, a thought suddenly taking shape in his brain. He knew exactly what he could do to make things up to Frick Island. To Piper. “Maybe they don’t need your money.”
—
It took only four days for the salesman Anders’s dad had recommended to make his first deal for a banner ad on his What the Frick? website. Anders couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the amount of money on the contract, but it wasn’t nearly as big as the second and third.
Two weeks later, Anders sent a check to Piper with a letter saying that it was for the island, for them to decide how to invest it, with a promise of more to come.
A few days passed and Anders didn’t hear anything from Piper. He looked at his bank account every day to see if it had been cashed, but the money was always still there. He’d started to wonder if maybe the check got lost in the mail or if she’d chucked it in the trash, which was where he’d started to think all of the letters and packages he’d sent her over the past few months had ended up.
Finally, a full week after he’d sent the check, Anders trudged from his car to his apartment door, head down to keep the bitter cold off his face. When he reached his apartment door, he was surprised to see someone already standing there.
“Piper?”
Heart thumping in his ears, Anders felt a mix of relief and joy and wariness all at once. She wasn’t smiling. But she wasn’t not smiling either, and Anders took another step forward.
“You are truly unbelievable,” she said, her face remaining unreadable.
He nearly smiled at the compliment, until he saw the glint in her eyes of unmistakable anger. And then he saw the check clutched in her clenched fist.
“The arrogance!” she shouted.
“What?”
“You have such a savior complex! You are not Superman! Or Clark Kent, or whoever it is you think you are. This isn’t a movie, Anders,” she growled. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?”
“I’m trying to help!” he said.
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to buy my forgiveness,” she spat out. “And it’s not for sale.”
“No, that’s not . . . Piper, you have to understand. I don’t
