“It was decommissioned in the late 1960s,” Topher continued, “and my grandfather bought the island back in 1973, years before I was born.”
When they reached the steel door set into the masonry, he pulled out an old-fashioned key and slipped it into the lock. The mechanism squealed as he turned it. So did the hinges as he pulled the door open.
They stepped into the tower, a dim light filtering down from above. The porthole windows circling the building revealed a slightly rusty cast-iron stairway spiraling up around the building’s interior perimeter. Jessica took off her sunglasses and hung them from the neckline of her T-shirt as she gazed upward. The helix of the stairway was a thing of beauty.
“There are one hundred and sixty-seven steps to the watch room. A ladder leads up from there to the lantern room,” Topher said.
She turned, finally, meeting and holding his gaze. His cobalt eye gleamed in the dim light with a spark that welded her to the floor. She couldn’t look away, as the memory of the boy in the letter jacket was cauterized forever from her memory, leaving this much more intimidating version.
He looked away first, and she yanked her gaze up toward the spiraling stairs and spoke the first words that entered her brain. “You can’t make it up to the top, can you?”
The words were cruel in a way, but they were also true. And necessary. She’d need to incorporate an elevator into her design.
“No, I can’t,” he growled.
Chapter Three
It was after four o’clock by the time Bachelor’s Delight returned to its berth at the Magnolia Harbor Marina. During the afternoon, Jessica had taken hundreds of photos and measurements, filling a notebook with ideas, facts, figures, and even a few drawings.
She also had a signed agreement in hand to produce a house design. Topher Martin was willing to pay her twice her going rate.
Which was great, except that her new client seemed to know that she was overcharging him because the last thing he said, right before she left him at the pier, was that he wanted to see design concepts in a week.
A week!
Yikes. She was going to have to burn some serious midnight oil to make that happen because she needed to finish her submission to the review committee for the new City Hall project before she could even start work on his house.
Submissions were due on Friday, and she still had a lot of details to work out. She was hoping that her hometown connection would give her a leg up on the other teams submitting designs. Of course, the review committee, most of whom had known her and her family for years, were also well aware that she was a one-woman shop with offices above a boutique.
But a girl needed to start somewhere. When she’d returned to Magnolia Harbor two years ago, she’d taken a leave of absence from the firm in Charleston where she’d been working to look after Momma in her final few months.
She’d reconnected with Colton St. Pierre, and his cheerleading and business connections as Magnolia Harbor’s up-and-coming building contractor had helped her decide to start her own business. Colton had been the one to introduce her to Mr. Akiyama, who’d been looking for an architect willing to take on a big challenge. His house had won awards and brought her more business. A month ago, she’d moved her business into commercial office space on Harbor Drive. So what if her office was above a boutique?
If she’d allowed herself to listen to Granny’s negativity, Jessica would never have been in this position—to accept a contract from a rich man for a challenging design on a remote island.
Call her crazy, but if she could carry it out, she might win a few more awards.
Her life might be almost perfect were it not for the fact that the gossips of Magnolia Harbor seemed to believe that her business relationship with Colton would eventually rekindle their teenage romance.
Like most gossip, this was wrong. They were friends and business associates, not lovers, and there had never been a teenage romance, even though her name and his had been forever linked sixteen years ago.
Nevertheless, it was still a bit disconcerting when she returned to her office and found Colton lounging in her swivel chair with his feet up on her desk. He looked mighty comfortable, as if he’d been there for a while.
Colton was a truly nice guy who’d straightened out his life, but sometimes he had boundary issues.
“Kerri let me in,” he said before Jessica could even ask the question.
Kerri was the owner of the building and the boutique downstairs. And of course she’d let Colton in even though Jessica had never left any express instructions about who should and should not be let into her locked office.
Kerri had just assumed, because Jessica and Colton had a long, twisted history in this town.
After a long day with a difficult man, her landlady’s assumptions irritated Jessica. But she wasn’t about to tell Colton that because she owed him so much.
“So how’d it go?” Colton asked, dropping his feet to the floor. “You guys were gone all day. I was starting to get worried.”
“Topher wants a castle,” she said with a little eye roll. “Or maybe a bachelor’s pad. I’m not sure which.”
“What?” Colton leaned forward with a deep frown.
“Have you seen his yacht?” Jessica asked.
“No, why?”
“It’s named Bachelor’s Delight. Honestly, who names a boat—”
Colton started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“That’s the name of a famous pirate ship,” he said.
“What?”
He whipped out his iPhone and peered into the screen. “Siri,” he asked, “who sailed Bachelor’s Delight?”
Siri dutifully responded, “I found this on the web.”
Colton made a few keystrokes. “Edward Davis,” he said. “He lived in the 1600s and was some kind of English privateer. His boat, which had thirty-six guns, according to this Wikipedia entry, was named Bachelor’s Delight.”
“You and your pirates,” she said with an eye roll.
He smirked. “If you had ever studied up on your local pirates, maybe the name of Topher’s boat wouldn’t have ticked you off. The original Bachelor’s Delight is one of the most famous pirate ships around, along with Captain Teal’s Bonnie Rose and Blackbeard’s Queen Anne’s Revenge.”
“Okay. So I’m uninformed about historic pirate ships. But it doesn’t change the way Topher Martin’s boat is fitted out. Hugh Hefner would feel right at home.” She stalked forward to stand in front of Colton. “Out of my chair. I need to think.”
“And you can’t think on your feet?” he asked with a smirk.
“Out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hopped up onto the edge of the desk, and she flopped back into her chair. “I spent the whole day thinking he was an egotistical maniac because of the boat’s name. Although really, there were other things that convinced me of that. His grandfather wanted to build some kind of big house out there just to prove that the Martins are as important as the Howlands. And the bed in the captain’s quarters is round, with satin sheets.” She shook her head.
“Really?” Colton’s tone changed to avid interest, or maybe concern. “How’d you get to see the captain’s quarters?”