“Jamie, have dinner with me at the resort.”
Zack sounded tired. “We can discuss everything without disruption. I’m really not a morning person—I can be much more charming at night.”
“We don’t have anything to discuss and I have no interest in your ‘charm.’“ Jamie didn’t want to accept the invitation, but not doing so would likely only delay the inevitable. Zack wouldn’t give up until she made it clear it was pointless to pursue the land.
“Indulge me. At worst, it will cost you an evening, and you’ll get a gourmet meal out of it.” It seemed Zack intended to stand there as long as it took to convince her.
“Okay,” she agreed, and was amused by the surprise on his face.
“Excellent. Does Thursday work for you? I can pick you up at seven.”
There was no way she’d let herself be dependent upon him for transportation. “No, I’ll meet you there. This isn’t a date—it’s business.”
“Right. See you then.” And with a small nod, he got into his car.
Before he turned onto the paved road, she saw him halt and stare back at her, no doubt evaluating how he’d handled the encounter and what else he’d have to do. Well, too bad. She might not have his experience in the business arena, but she held the trump card; she owned the land, and no one could force her to sell.
That Summer
at the Shore
Callie Endicott
As a kid, CALLIE ENDICOTT had her nose stuck in a novel so much it frequently got her into trouble. She majored in English in college to support her addiction to stories, but it wasn’t enough. Out of desperation she turned to writing, and now when she isn’t walking on a beach or taking a mountain forest trail, she usually has her nose stuck to a computer screen. That is, when she isn’t feeding her cat, scooping the litter box … and listening to Myna purr. The guy in her life doesn’t appreciate the distractions, but that’s another story.
For Mom and Dad.
Contents
PROLOGUE
ZACK DENNING BREATHED in the tangy scent of seaside vegetation as the bulldozer bit deep into the soil. For seventeen years he had worked for this moment.
Mar Vista. My own resort.
He’d saved, invested, made the right contacts, learned along the way, calculated for everything imaginable...and now he was finally breaking ground.
“It’s a big day,” said Phillip Atchison, his architect, during a lull in the noise from the heavy machinery.
“Yes.” Zack nodded, holding his triumph at bay. This was just the beginning, with the greatest risks and challenges still ahead. Nevertheless, he could see it all in his head, the way he’d been seeing it since he was a kid and everyone thought it was a pipe dream.
Phillip understood his ideas and had been excited by the opportunity to design classic architecture that recalled an era of gracious stability. Equally important, they’d incorporated luxury amenities, state-of-the-art electronics and a killer resource center. A guest could run an international company from Mar Vista...or forget the outside world existed.
Leaving the bulldozer, they walked toward the trailer, which would serve as Zack’s home and office while the construction phase progressed. Later he would have an apartment over the administrative offices.
“It’s too bad your family couldn’t be here for the groundbreaking,” Phillip commented.
“My folks were going to come, but something...came up.”
Zack’s mood chilled. He didn’t want to explain his brother’s damaged body and the months of surgeries and therapy yet to come. Brad had gone through hell since being hit by a roadside bomb in Iraq. Their parents were in Bethesda, Maryland, where he was being treated at National Naval Medical Center. The doctors kept saying they had to be patient, but it wasn’t easy.
“Maybe they can come for the grand opening. And you’ve taken lots of photos that you can send them,” Phillip said, dropping his arms. “They’re on the internet, aren’t they? Or do they resist using computers and email like my folks?”
It took a second for Zack’s brain to refocus. “No, they love email,” he answered, patting his digital camera. He’d already sent dozens of pictures to his parents and brother, hoping it would raise their spirits. His jaw hardened. The resort had to be a success—the family needed something to go well.
They climbed onto the landing in front of the trailer and studied the terrain leading down to the Pacific Ocean. Weather reports indicated relatively dry conditions for the next several months—ideal for contouring the acreage for the golf course and completing the major structures. They were disturbing as few of the natural features as they could, which helped their timeline. Mar Vista would nestle into the land as though it were always meant to be there.
The golf-course design also employed existing features, while still