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“Done,” she said. “Mercy, can you stop by the paper tomorrow? I’ll help write up ads for the Tallahassee Democrat and the Pensacola News Journal . What about the Montgomery Advertiser ?”

“Go for it,” Caleb said. “Simon will pay.”

“It’d still be nice to have something really big to draw attention to the East End,” Duke said. “No offense, Mercy, and all of us to what we’re doing, but I feel like we’re trying to put out a roaring fire with a garden hose. What we’re battling is the energy and momentum of the West End leaders.”

Duke dropped a weight of truth into the proceedings. Caleb thought to balance it with some levity, but he had nothing.

Then Adele spoke up. “You know our town lore,” she said, setting her knitting in her lap.

“If you look really close, you might see Immanuel walking among the streetlamps, between the shops and houses, among us. Now I ask you, ladies and gentlemen, what is bigger than God? Let the West End bring their roaring fire. We’ll see what God can do. ”

“You want to invite God to our town,” Ivan said with a sneer. “That’s your plan?”

“No, goofball, He’s already here. Caleb, does Ivan have to be on this committee?”

“Now, now, Adele, what would Immanuel say?” Ivan said.

“Oh, great day in the morning, now he’s turning all religious on me. Have you no shame?” Adele had taken up her knitting again. “What about a street party to start things off?”

“We’d need the shops to cooperate,” Emery said. “But I think they will. Should we meet with them? Set a date?”

Duke promised to keep working on his West End colleagues. Caleb gave an update on Alderman’s and offered hope from Jenny Finch.

“ She’s interested in the Org. Homestead. Maybe if she invests, we could finish one or two of the houses to show everyone the possibilities.”

“Sis-boom-bah, let’s eat some cake.” Ivan limped toward the desserts. “Mercy, did you bring your double chocolate delight?”

Caleb had just taken a bite of cake when the museum door opened. Mac Diamond walked in, bold as you please. “Sorry I’m late.” He tossed his smarmy smile about the room, shook hands with Duke, and praised the food table.

“We don’t need your kind here,” Ivan said around a mouthful of double chocolate.

“My kind? I’m a loyal Sea Bluean, here to join this Main Street initiative.”

“I thought you wanted this side of town bulldozed,” Caleb said. “Or do you prefer to break away, make the West End its own municipality?”

“I’ve had a change of heart. Miss Adele, is this your chicken casserole?”

“Help yourself. It’s one of my best recipes.”

Mac helped himself all right—to the food, to the people in the room. He sat next to Mercy and started talking about revenue sources for the East End.

“I’ve had everyday folks like yourselves invest in my golf courses and let me tell you, the return is quite generous. Within two years of completion.”

Adele and Mercy leaned toward him with wide eyes. Even Ivan stopped pacing, and chewing, to listen.

“Mac don’t bring your propaganda in here,” Caleb said. “We’re talking about revitalization of the East End. You got any ideas?”

“A nine-hole golf course would do wonders.” The man was a broken record. “Caleb, I got my eye on you for the clubhouse.”

C aleb steeled himself from being Mr. Pottered. But what a sweet gig for his résumé.

“We’re restoring those houses,” Caleb blurted, in defense of the Org. Homestead. In defense of himself. “So find another place for your golf course and clubhouse.”

For the next forty minutes, he tried to adjourn the meeting, but Mac charmed the room with his stories and supersized laughter. When Caleb finally shut off the lights and locked the museum door, even Emery spent a few minutes talking with Mac, saying good night.

When she joined him on the corner, Caleb huffed. “He’s trying to buy the Main Street initiative. What was it he said? ‘The return is quite generous.’ Define generous . A dime on the dollar?” He started toward Sea Blue Way as a soft, misty rain swirled around them.

“He’s a man used to getting his way, Caleb. He’s wooing you,” Emery said softly as she hurried alongside him.

“I resisted him this time. But, uh, from what I could tell, Em, he Mr. Pottered you. ‘How’s the Gazette going, Emery? Did you enjoy the Beach Boys concert? My golf course could be your largest advertiser.’ You were his Mary Bailey.”

“Excuse me, I was not wooed by him. I’ve interviewed hundreds of Mac Diamonds in my day. The trick is to let them think they are wooing you, then you put the truth in print. Trust me, eventually they get their due. Mary Bailey, my eye. Ha.”

“Okay, fine. I just wish he could be a stand-up guy and help us restore the East End.”

“Why can’t you understand Mac Diamond’s agenda is Mac Diamond? However, I do recall someone asking me to dinner before or after the Main Street meeting, but since he consumed a large pile of chicken casserole—”

Caleb stopped short. “Em, whoa, I forgot.” He reached for h er hand. “I was demoing the pharmacy and lost track of time. Why didn’t you text me?”

“Don’t apologize.” She dusted his work shirt. “I like this look. Rugged construction guy. Very blue-collar sexy.”

Caleb slipped his arms around her waist. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you, Quinn?”

“Now why would I want to do that, Ransom?”

The dampness of the cool rain that doused his ire over Diamond, along with the soft, hazy glow of the Victorian lampstands refracting through the mist and surrounding Emery that roused his feelings for her.

“If I say I’ve missed you, will you call me a liar?”

“Have you? Missed me?”

“I didn’t know until just now. But yes, very much.”

She lowered her gaze. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

“Maybe.” He didn’t know what he was saying, really, or doing, only that every instinct shouted don’t let her go.

“We’re not sixteen, Caleb.”

“I know,” he said, holding her closer, tipping up her chin to see her eyes. “But I’d like to find out who we are now.”

The elements of the night were in her eyes. “I’m scared,” she said so softly he barely heard.

“Of what? Me?” he said, sensing an unseen boundary.

“Of losing someone I love.” She stepped out of his arms. “I-I can’t do it, Caleb. I can’t. It seems to me all good things end. Dad and me, the dynamic duo. My job at the Free Voice . I’ve never said this out loud, but I feel so...” She glanced toward the dark shore. “Fragile.”

“Shhh, it’s all right.” He brought her close again, and she rested her head against his chest. In the same place she fit sixteen years ago. In the place she fit now.

T he winter air chilled the mist as it continued to swirl around them, and Emery shivered.

“Come on.” Caleb gently steered her across the street. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

The atmosphere of the Blue Plate Diner was welcoming, warm, and cozy, like walking into your grandma’s living room.

At nine o’clock, the place was quiet, with a few late-nighters eating the last of the day’s special or claiming the final slice from one of Paige’s pies.

Standards from the forties and fifties played from the speakers.

Stars shining bright above you ... Dream a little dream of me...

They sat in the booth in the back, the same one where Caleb stuck Emery with the bill.

Life had a way of coming around in big and little circles.

They ordered hot chocolates, and Emery, the grilled chicken plate.

Small talk ensued, probably because it was safe, recapping the Main Street meeting and speculating about Mac Diamond’s motivations.

When the server set down Emery’s dinner, Caleb said, “Em, what you said tonight ... about things ending. I never told you about the night I was supposed to meet you. The night your family left Sea Blue Beach.”

She glanced at him over the rim of her mug. “Caleb, it was a long time ago. Things happen.”

“I was on my way, I promise. When you texted you needed me, I was already on my way to—”

“Find Cassidy?”

“Yeah, the story of that summer. Besides you.” He shoved his empty mug aside and leaned over the table. “I wanted to be there, believe me, especially if I’d known ...”