Page 13 of Best Laid Plans (Rock Harbor #1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

ELLE

“ E lle, I’m not dying. Really, honey.” Elle’s dad looked at her imploringly.

He was sitting across the kitchen table from her in the house he and her mom had lived in for the last decade, eating a breakfast of egg whites and turkey bacon.

Which Elle knew, because five minutes ago, she’d followed him like an annoying shadow from the kitchen to the table.

She picked at the breakfast sandwich her dad had cooked for her.

It would have been hard to miss the envious glances he’d shot her way when she’d taken the first bite.

Bacon, egg, and cheese. So much cheese. Just the way he knew she liked it.

The bites she managed to take sat heavy in her throat, until finally set the half-eaten sandwich down.

It was hard to enjoy her food at a time like this.

Especially when it used to be both of their favorite sandwich.

“Maybe I should stay here. Be closer to you and Mom.”

He waved her off as he bit into a piece of turkey bacon.

“You’re already taking time off work to be here.

Which is unnecessary,” he added, “but you don’t need to move in and play nurse.

” He pointed down at his plate. “I’m following the diet, and I’ll have my surgery next week.

I promise, everything is going to be okay. ”

She wanted to believe him. She also wanted to explain that she wasn’t ‘taking time off work’ to be here, but it was now Tuesday, and her parents had assumed that she’d worked something out to stick around in Rock Harbor.

Against their wishes, clearly, but there was no reason to correct their assumption.

“And I don’t think there’s any harm in me sticking close by.

” She folded her arms across her chest. She meant business, and he needed to know it.

“No one felt like it was important to tell me about the fact that you were having literal heart surgery, so please forgive me for wanting to stay close to the action, lest I miss something else.”

He put his spoon down, a hurt look flashing across his face. “Elle, it wasn’t–”

Elle hated to see that look, but she needed answers.

Which meant that she tamped down on the guilt that sluiced through her.

It felt like life was happening around her, and she refused to be a bystander anymore.

So, she’d given her dad a few days for them to settle into a rhythm before pressing him.

She’d spent Sunday at one of the tables at the restaurant and Monday at her parents’ house, sending out resumes while she pretended to work remotely.

Which brought her to her next point. She ran a hand through her dark hair, snagging on a small knot that she ignored.

She had bigger fish to fry. “And the restaurant. How could you not tell me, Dad?” Elle, for the last two days, had been holding things in, at least where her parents were concerned.

She prided herself on being a direct person, but the cracks in the dam that she’d set up so as to not put more stress on her family were close to breaking down completely.

He finished his egg whites, the turkey bacon long gone, and moved on to his grapefruit. “Your mom got me these ridiculously small, fanged spoons to eat my grapefruit in the morning.” He held up the spoon and showed Elle the small serrated edges on both sides.

“You say this like you aren’t a cook with dozens of specialized tools to prepare food,” Elle clapped back.

He gave her a wry grin before digging the spoon into the juicy flesh. “You’ve got me there.”

Elle studied her dad, like she’d been doing since she’d found out about his upcoming surgery.

He looked healthy. Slimmer than he was the last time she’d seen him, though he still had a small gut, which she attributed to his lifelong love of a good beer along with his lobster.

If she hadn’t known that something was wrong she, well…

wouldn’t have known that something was wrong.

Today, instead of his requisite Pierce’s Lobster Co.

t-shirt, since the restaurant was closed Monday and Tuesday, he wore a white and blue striped polo shirt that was tucked into his khaki shorts.

Elle was begrudging to admit, but his new sneakers–gray with white soles–did wonders to bring him into the twenty-first century.

His bald head was freshly shaved, likely just done this morning.

She appreciated that he wasn’t one of those men who’d tried to hide that they were losing their hair with strange styles to obfuscate the bald patch.

No, he’d tackled it head on. Like he’d taught her to do in life.

Which made guilt churn in Elle’s stomach again. God, she’d fallen so far. She didn’t want to admit to her parents that she’d lost her job. Or her apartment. And that for as much as Cam seemed to be avoiding her, she was doing the same thing.

Yeah, she wasn’t getting into that last one with her dad.

She needed to get them back on track. His problems. Now that was something that she could handle. “I know things must be bad if you’re talking about grapefruit spoons.”

There was a part of her that hoped he would dispel her words, but as his lips twitched and he leaned back in his chair, she could see that he was uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat when she continued to stare him down.

“Businesses ebb and flow. We’re just going through a rough patch.

It’s really nothing you need to worry about.

Your life in Boston and your career don’t need to be disrupted by what’s happening at home. ”

But that was exactly the thing. This was home , and the degree to which it mattered to her wasn’t measured by how far away she was from what was happening. Apparently, her family didn’t share that sentiment, so she was, whether they liked it or not, now a barnacle on the ship of their lives.

“How rough?” She kept her voice even. “And please, don’t treat me with kid gloves. I’m twenty-seven, Dad. I can handle whatever you have to say. Hell, I may be able to help.” She had nothing but time on her hands these days, and she may as well put it to good use.

After polishing off his grapefruit, he put the spoon down and looked at her with a mix of love and sadness. It wrapped around her heart and squeezed. Hard.

Finally, he sighed. “Business is down about fifty percent since Heads & Tails opened three months ago.”

Elle blanched. She knew it was bad, but she didn’t know it was that bad.

“Do you think they’re doing well? Or could there be something happening on a larger scale.

Maybe tourism to Rock Harbor is down across the board,” she surmised, working through the litany of possibilities like the strategic consultant that she was. Or, at least, that she used to be.

Her first two years with her consulting firm had been working with companies in the food and beverage space.

Having grown up in a restaurant, she’d already had a decent understanding of business economics and supply chain efficiency.

Though, to be fair, the docks two miles away and the restaurant didn’t make for an overly complicated sea-to- table path.

It had been almost a month since she’d flexed her brain in this way, as she began to think through the possibilities.

Her dad interrupted her thoughts. “Cam is going to help us out with the chowder fest and run our booth. See if we can get some momentum back to stem the bleeding.” It was clear that his words meant to placate her, but they had the opposite effect.

Her head whipped up, a decidedly annoyed burst of frustration rushing through her. Wasn’t he just everyone’s hero these days.

Adonis in a towel. World’s strongest and most comfortable arms. Now, she got to add ‘savior to the restaurant’ to the list.

God, what was his deal?

By the time Elle had been a teenager, her days had become filled with tennis and school clubs including debate and student council and Future Business Leaders of America to pad her resume.

Cam, conversely, before he’d left Rock Harbor at eighteen, spent most of his after school days in the kitchen at Pierce’s Lobster Co. , their paths crossing less and less.

The–ugh– affection that she’d been feeling toward Cam the last few days snuffed itself out.

Her dad drew his eyebrows together. “Why do you look like you just ate a bowl of chowder that’s turned?”

“I was just wondering what kind of offering would please Saint Cam,” Elle said derisively. God, she couldn’t catch a break where he was concerned. And she didn’t know what was up with this whole ‘helpful to a fault’ act that he had going on.

Her dad looked at her, and Elle could tell from the disappointment etched across his face that he didn’t like what he was hearing.

But still, calm and gentle as always, he placated her.

“He’s always been helpful. And as the chef of a restaurant, I’d say he’s in a unique position to run the booth this weekend.

Honestly, I’m grateful that he stepped up and asked if he could help. ”

“ I can help.” Her voice was embarrassingly shrill, and she regretted begging for attention immediately.

He picked up his plate and stood. Looking at her lovingly, he walked around the table and planted a kiss on top of her head. “You are helping, honey. It’s been great having company the last few days.”

Elle stood up too, then, and followed her dad to the kitchen with her own plate in-hand. “Give me that.” She grabbed her dad’s plate, with the tiny grapefruit spoon set atop it, and began washing the dishes.

She should be grateful to Cam. There was a part of her brain that understood that, intellectually.

He was helping her parents, and disrupting his own life in the process.

Even though he was being suspicious as hell about why he was randomly back in town.

And no, she didn’t believe that it was to celebrate his big reality tv win or visit her parents.