odd longing pulled at his core. His mother made the best hot chocolate.
“Careful or you’ll get sucked in,” Paige warned. “Right, Calliope?” She caught her friend’s arm as the lithe redhead attempted to glide unseen behind her.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The sandcastle competition. That’s what they’re up to.” Paige jerked her chin toward the kids. “We can rest easy. The world is safe for a while longer at least.”
Xander was tempted to ask for clarification, but all thoughts of conversation shot straight out of his head as Calliope turned toward him. For an instant, it was as if he was trapped in a movie or hokey TV show, where one of the characters begins to move in slow motion. All that was missing was a fan and an 80s rock ballad blasting out of car speakers.
What was it about Calliope Jones that warmed him from the inside? To say she was unexpected sounded like a cliché, but for a man who had dated models, publishing CEOs and, for one particularly entertaining summer, a disavowed princess, Xander couldn’t compare her to any woman he’d ever known. He’d never met anyone who seemed to be comprised completely of energy and light.
She was pretty beneath the mass of long red curls accented with ribbons and bells. Her face was clean of makeup, and her fresh, bright skin glowed. The simple, colorful, ankle-sweeping dress she wore drifted over a subtle figure. Other than a solitary silver butterfly charm situated in the hollow of her throat, she didn’t wear any jewelry, and when he glanced at her hands he saw the telltale hint of darkness under her short, practical nails. A woman who wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty.
“I didn’t realize Stella was interested in competing.” Calliope frowned over at her sister before giving her head a quick shake. “I’ll have to talk to her about it.”
“You sound like you disapprove.” He started to laugh until he saw her strained smile.
“Of competition, yes, usually.” She shifted and directed her attention—and her laser-sharp gaze—on him.
“Really? Why?”
“I’ve found pitting people against one another doesn’t necessarily bring out the best in individuals.”
“It’s character-building,” Xander argued and tried to keep his smile in check. He didn’t think she’d appreciate knowing her irritation toward him made her even more appealing.
“Competing against oneself is character-building. Participating in activities that could increase animosity feeds into negativity I’d rather avoid.”
“Gotta disagree with you.” If only because he found arguing with her invigorating. “Win or lose, you learn something. About other people, about yourself. I competed with my older brother constantly when we were growing up. I like to think we turned out okay.”
“Are you friends?”
“Friends?”
“You and your brother. Are you friends?”
“Ah.” Xander had to think about that as an image of his fair-haired brother popped into his head. “Well, yeah, I guess so. We’re brothers. Isn’t that a given?”
“Not always. No.” Calliope’s tone hadn’t changed, but something had. In her stance, in her expression.
“Ah, looks like table three is ready to order.” Paige backed away and held her hands up in surrender as she cast an uneasy look at her friend. “I’ll be back for your order in a bit.”
Xander barely heard her. “You don’t think my brother and I are friends?”
“I don’t know one way or the other,” Calliope said. “I’ve just found that siblings who grew up trying to one-up each other don’t always share a mutual respect or affection.”
“Funny. I didn’t notice judgment listed on my menu. Maybe you can show me where I missed it.” He pointed to the lunch selections.
“I’m not judging you. Or your brother,” she said. “I’m simply voicing my opinion on competition in general and its possible repercussions. Isn’t there enough conflict in the world without adding a prize at the end?”
She was baiting him, and evidently, he was more than willing to give it a chomp. “For your information, my brother and I get along great.” Or they had up until a couple of years ago. Maybe if things had been different, the family business wouldn’t be circling the drain. “Having someone to compete against drove us both to the top of our profession.”
“Together? Or are you on that pedestal all by yourself?”
“Wow.” Xander wanted to laugh, and almost did, but only because it was the only way to temper the anger bubbling inside of him. “You really don’t like me, do you?”
“I don’t know you,” Calliope reiterated in a tone he could only describe as haughty. “But I know people well enough to recognize when someone is looking down their nose at something. Or someplace. You were hired to do a job, not fix what isn’t wrong. And there’s nothing wrong with Butterfly Harbor.”
“Funny, I could have sworn I applied as an architect. Did I miss a memo?”
The front doorbell chimed, announcing both a new arrival and the end to round two with Calliope Jones. Xander shifted his focus to the man heading toward him.
“Xander Costas. Gil Hamilton. Great to meet you.” The tall man looked like he’d walked off the set of a surfer movie, from his blond-tipped sandy hair to the tanned skin beneath sharp, intense eyes. If he held any resentment because of Xander’s unexpected early arrival, it didn’t come across.
“Mayor Hamilton.” Xander accepted the hand offered to him. “A pleasure.” He glanced at Calliope as the mayor sat across from him.
“It’s Gil, please. I apologize I don’t have much time, but you seemed anxious to discuss your preliminary plans.”
“Not a problem. I needed to eat, anyway, and I was told there was free pie involved.”
Gil chuckled as he slid into the seat across from him. “Holly’s pies do tend to draw in the customers. Calliope, lovely to see you. Making friends as always, I see.”
That she didn’t answer wasn’t lost on Xander, nor did he think the mayor was being sarcastic. “Calliope was telling me how anxious she is to see the plans we’ve come up with for the sanctuary and education center.” Xander flourished the cardboard tube and popped off the top, struggling to ignore the hint of roses and sunshine drifting off her skin. “Might as well get the business stuff out of the way before we order, right?”
“You can’t go wrong with the mac-and-cheese casserole.” Gil pushed his napkin and flatware out of the way. “Especially if Paige is in the kitchen.” He leaned over and lowered his voice. “She uses cheese crackers as the topping.” He glanced up at Calliope, who had yet to move. “Aren’t you joining us?”
Calliope glanced over her shoulder to the kids, as if looking for an excuse to say no, something that didn’t escape Xander’s notice. “She’s worried she might actually like our ideas.”
“I’m hopeful I will, actually.” Calliope lowered herself into the seat beside Xander and folded her hands on the table. “I try not to hold any preconceived notions about anything. Or anyone.”
Another bit of bait, but this time Xander resisted the urge to nibble. Instead, he brushed aside the implied criticism. “Okay then.” Challenge accepted, Xander pulled out the plans and rolled them out over the Formica tabletop. He smoothed his hands over the inked images. “As you can see, we went with a modern feel. Strong, angular lines and features. We discussed multiple options as far as the number of floors you might want, so we gave a few options, each keeping the original design in mind. I like the idea of a lot of glass and open light, as much natural light as possible, but depending on the location, you’ll have to take maintenance into