Page 4 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove (Jonathon Island #5)

Chapter Two

D aisy’s breath fogged the air as she continued hiking the long road encircling the island.

Her frozen hand clutched her now ice-cold coffee cup, as though there was still a drop of warmth and it just needed to be squeezed out.

In her other hand, her fingers were turning red with the cold as she held her phone, following the GPS toward her destination.

“It’s not a sure thing,” Mia had told her as she’d tapped the location into Daisy’s Google Maps. “But I know Joe’s been toying with the idea of selling for a while. And nobody nearby will touch the place, so you could probably get a bargain price for it.”

She handed the phone back over. “Anyway, it can’t hurt for you to at least see the house.

Nobody’s lived there in years .” She’d drawn the word out, planting a seed of doubt as to Daisy’s chances of reselling the place once it was done.

Well, that and the little tidbit about nobody being willing to touch the place.

But before she’d had a chance to inquire further, Mia was pointing her toward the road and pushing her on her way with promises to call and schedule a tour later.

And so there she was, hiking up the sloping hill that split off from the main road just behind the massive hotel, her weathered boots beating against the pavement.

A few locals on bikes waved politely as they whizzed by.

An actual horse clopped past. And riding it was none other than the world-famous singer, Eli Noble. Daisy’d tried to play it cool as he passed, giving her a polite nod.

A wooden fence curved along the path, and trees rose on either side until they dissipated and gave way to the view beyond.

Daisy stopped, her lips parting in surprise.

The road overlooked the shores of Lake Huron, and it seemed to glitter for miles.

The bright morning sun scattered gold among the wave as it finished its ascent.

The wind carried the scent of fresh water and pine, and for once, the cold didn’t bite.

Daisy let out a soft breath, unable to take it all in in one glance.

Her cell phone pinged, her GPS indicating she’d reached her destination.

Daisy turned around.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” Mia had told her.

She was right.

On the hill behind her stood a well-aged two-story Queen Anne-style Victorian house.

The ground level boasted a deep apron porch with stone-worked balustrades, and on the right, a weathered door overlooked the overgrown lawn, its stone walkway nearly lost to time.

To the left stood a stunning three-story turret, its oval roof rising above the golds and reds of the tree line.

At first glance she may have not realized there was anything wrong with the house. Until she caught sight of the scorch marks that clawed their way out beneath the turret windows, a thick layer of grime preventing a view of the inside.

Daisy felt a squeeze in her chest. She hadn’t planned to take on a project this big. A cute little bungalow with a bad porch, maybe? A sweet starter home in need of a new kitchen, sure. But nothing like this. This house would take time, precision, planning, and most importantly, funds.

The wind shifted, pulling her in, and Daisy thought of Augo’s words earlier that morning. You want to make God laugh? Just tell Him your plans.

She couldn’t go forward with this idea. Could she?

A tumble of leaves brushed across the porch, catching beneath the stunning bay window of what looked like a parlor. It really was a beautiful house, unlike anything she’d find back in LA.

Daisy pulled out her phone, and a moment later Robin’s face appeared on the screen. Her friend was wearing her power outfit—a black jumpsuit accentuating her golden pixie-cut hair and green eyes. “Hey, babe! What’s up?”

“I’m about to go off the rails and it’s really freaking me out and I need you to talk me out of it,” Daisy said, angling the screen to avoid the glare of the sun off the water.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Robin said.

Daisy turned the screen toward the house, the wind tugging at one of the dangling shutters. “I found this amazing, one of a kind, historic house that neeeeds me.” The words came out like a child asking to keep the baby bird they found in the yard.

Robin’s mouth was gaping, her eyes taking in the massive project, as mental calculations scrolled through her expression.

“Babe…I don’t think?—”

“Before you tell me I can’t afford it,” Daisy interrupted, ignoring the fact that she’d called her friend to talk her out of the project, not the other way around, “I think we could pitch a YouTube show to some of my original sponsors. You know, the ones from pre- Double Decker days.” Back before everything had gotten… complicated.

Robin pressed her lips together, thinking. Daisy watched her friend’s expression light up, a slow grin spreading across her face. “That could work.”

“Right? It’ll be just like the old days.

” The days when they’d spent nights and weekends and every free moment building up Daisy’s YouTube career, filming affordable DIY projects and how-to videos and designer collabs, working toward the goal of getting picked up for a design series on HGTV. And they’d done just that.

“Anyway,” she went on, “I know we can do it again. I’ve already got a serious following. If we show the network that there is a demand for my content, I just know we’ll get picked up again, and we’ll be back on top in no time.”

Robin shrugged. “Can’t hurt to try.”

“That’s the spirit!” she cheered. “There’s a lot of details to nail down still, but I’m gonna get a look around and see if I can’t muster up some footage for proof of concept. Why don’t you put together a list of potential sponsors in the meantime?”

“You got it.” Her friend said, already scribbling a hectic to-do list across the whiteboard behind her desk. “And send me your videos. I can be our editor until we can afford to hire someone.”

“Sounds good. Love you!”

“Love you,” Robin replied.

The call ended, and Daisy turned back to the house. She sucked in a deep breath.

Here goes everything.

* * *

“What’s up, friends! I’m here on Jonathon Island where we’re embarking on a journey to uncover the beauty in the discarded!” Daisy held her arms out wide, showing off the disheveled house to her phone, which was propped against a pile of rocks on the yard’s stone wall.

A gust of wind knocked it over, and Daisy let her arms flop to her sides. “That’s okay. We’ll fine-tune it later.”

She strode through the dewy grass to retrieve her phone, flipping through the videos. She let out a sigh. She’d never get enough footage out here in the yard.

She cast a glance over her shoulder, her eyes climbing the porch to the second floor and over the picturesque turret.

Mia had said nobody’d lived there for years. It’s not like she’d be intruding if she took a teensy look around…

Daisy crept up the front steps, the wood groaning beneath her feet. She raised a hand to the glass panels of the front door and peered inside, halfway expecting someone to jump out at her.

The entryway was still.

Daisy slipped the phone from her pocket again and snapped a pic of the porch.

“For the ‘before,’” she explained to no one in particular. “Actually, I should probably grab a quick ‘before’ shot of the entryway, before it gets footprints all over it.”

That was reasonable, right?

She tried the brass doorknob and let out a breath of disappointment to find it locked. Maybe it was for the best. She wouldn’t be tempted to?—

The door creaked open.

Well…

She pressed a fingertip to the door and pushed it the rest of the way.

She really should just wait for a formal tour. It wasn’t her house… yet .

Daisy shot a glance over her shoulder.

“Oh for Pete’s sake,” she mumbled at herself. “Just go in already.”

She stepped over the threshold.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust, the edges of the foyer steeped in darkness. Dust floated in the light cascading from the open door. The floor, aged and faded, creaked as she crept in farther.

Across from the door, a wide staircase led to the second story, the banister of handcrafted oak worn and nicked around the edges. Daisy noted a few missing spindles. To the left, the hall opened to a parlor with coffered ceilings of the same wood.

“This place is incredible,” she breathed. Her followers would love—an idea cut through her mind. What better way to show potential sponsors proof of concept than to get people begging for the YouTube show?

She tapped her screen and opened her social media app, turning the camera toward herself. Daisy’s finger hovered over the ‘ Go live ’ button . For a girl who’d spent the majority of her life following a blueprint, she sure was making a lot of decisions on the fly lately.

She tapped the screen. Desperate times and all…

“Hi, friends! It’s Daisy!” She waved at the camera. “I’m working on a brand-new project that I’ll be super excited to share with you a little later, but I thought I’d give a little sneak peek to all the followers who keep up with me.”

Comments started scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

@CraftyHome: Can’t wait!

@TheDIYDogMom: Tell me more!!!

@Anonymousquirrel: I love your designs

“Aww, you guys are so sweet!” Daisy grinned. “I’m working on a new project, so I thought I’d do a little house tour of just one of the properties I’m considering for it. Let’s take a look.”

Angling the camera up so viewers could see both her face and the surrounding rooms, she wandered deeper into the house.

Her hand ran over the wood paneling as she entered the parlor, her viewer count already ticking toward three hundred.

“Take a look at this parlor. I love the attention to detail. There’s just something beautiful about the story these old houses tell.

” She chuckled and flashed a warm smile at the camera.