than expected in seeing him knocked down a peg. “Did I do something to offend you? Normally, people take to me right away.”
“Normal and I have never been on speaking terms, Mr. Costas.”
“Xander.” His grin returned and it was then she realized he assumed she was flirting with him. She wasn’t. Was she? He hefted his bag over his shoulder. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around. Small town and all.”
“Yes, you will.” Calliope stood stone-still as she watched him head inside. The troubling gray haze hovering around him on the beach had dissipated, but sparkles of silver and gold still appeared. Indications of hope to offset the worry and concern that plagued him.
“You weren’t very nice to him,” Stella said. “You’re nice to everyone.”
“I was nice enough.” Guilt drifted down and settled on Calliope’s shoulders. She didn’t want to like him. But she’d learned a long time ago that when fate had set its mind on something that was that. As much as she hated the idea, Calliope couldn’t shake the sensation that as of this moment, her life—her happy, contented, safe life—was never going to be the same.
XANDER HAD NEVER seen a Christmas tree decorated with seahorses and sand dollars before. Then again, he’d never had a California coastal Christmas before. Personally, he thought the giant starfish on the top of the forest-scented pine tree was an inspired touch, as were the seashell garlands interspersed with clumps of sugarcoated cranberries.
“Help yourself to some coffee and cookies, Mr. Costas, please.” The tall, plump woman behind the whitewashed counter offered him a friendly, if tense, smile. “The white-chocolate macadamia nut is my favorite.” She tucked a wavy lock of hair behind her ear and her wedding set glinted in the sun streaming through the lobby’s bay window.
“Never could say no to a cookie.” Leaving his bags by the seafoam green-and-gold upholstered chair, he wandered across the wood floor, humming along with the muted instrumental holiday music cascading through the room. The building had an old-world feel to it as he’d expected, given the structure’s history. The updates were recent, within the last year he figured, but the Flutterby did what a lot of boutique hotels and bed-and-breakfasts couldn’t quite manage—it felt like a home.
A new barrage of nerves hit his chest. He liked the idea they’d come up with for the preliminary design, but now that he was actually here, was it too modern for the town? From his discussions with Gil Hamilton, Butterfly Harbor’s mayor, he assumed they were looking to move into a more contemporary style, which had been a relief. Now...he wasn’t so sure. The town had a lot of history that it seemed to celebrate. Although the few conversations he’d had with the mayor told him the man was more concerned with cost rather than design, an attitude that loosened the reins that usually held Xander’s creativity back.
In his mind, the project would be a simple structure or two, big enough to get the Costas name out there, but small enough not to keep him up at night. And it should be the kick-start to rebuilding his family’s reputation as reliable architects.
And...if there wasn’t enough personality in the sketches, he could add a few butterflies here and there.
Butterflies. Xander smirked. Like he knew anything about the winged creatures other than what conservationists and environmentalists had been sounding the alarm over. The loss of migration habitats, the dwindling numbers, negative environmental factors. That’s what the facility would educate people about. Nothing fancy on his end, just a building they could teach in. Easy enough.
Even now he could see his father’s eyes narrowing as he asked Xander what he could possibly be thinking by taking on a butterfly project.
What was Xander thinking? He was thinking the family business was sinking faster than a tugboat in storm-tossed seas. He was thinking they had to grab on to any opportunity that presented itself. He was thinking that when in danger of drowning, you grab hold of whatever life preserver you can to stay above water.
For the Costas family, for Xander, that meant putting all their hopes on...butterflies.
Butterfly Harbor and its cozy village feel was a huge step away from the high rises and office buildings his family had been designing for the last sixty years, but they had to start over somewhere.
With his coffee in hand, he caught a glimpse of Calliope Jones and her sister heading down the hill into town. He bit into the cookie he’d been unable to resist, grateful for the burst of brown sugary goodness to offset the hunger rumbling through his stomach.
Calliope. As fascinating and unique as her name indicated. It was like watching a pair of rainbows take an evening walk, brightening the way for any who followed. The tiny silver bells in Calliope’s hair, holding a braid in place, had tinkled ever so slightly when she moved, adding to that fairy-like quality he’d picked up on the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And speaking of eyes...
She had the most unusual amethyst eyes. Xander had only seen that color once before, in China as he’d gazed at the Purple Mountain, which was beautifully rich at dawn and dusk. It made sense, he supposed, as there was something ethereal about the woman, entrancing. Even the slight hostility aimed in his direction felt oddly like a prize of some kind.
She struck him as the type of woman who made friends with everyone. That he put her on edge felt like a gauntlet was waiting to be thrown. He wasn’t entirely sure what she disapproved of—the project in general or him. He had no doubt he would find out. He anticipated a challenge in the offing, which added a zing to his already charged insides. He did his best work around adversaries. Xander couldn’t care less if people liked him or not, but they would respect the work he did. No matter how he had to earn it.
“Okay, Mr. Costas, I think we have you all set now.” Lori’s soft voice rose over the sound of the young woman tapping away on the computer. “I’m afraid we aren’t able to put you in the tower room like you requested, at least not until Monday afternoon.”
There was that strained smile again. Xander set his almost empty cup on the counter.
“I hope you understand. We weren’t expecting you until then and we’re almost full through the weekend. What we can offer, if a regular room won’t suffice, is one of our residential cabins. It includes a private galley kitchen, dining and living area.”
“The gardens are exceptional,” her assistant interjected with a sly expression on her thin face. “Lori works magic with flowers and plants.”
“Willa’s one of the town cheerleaders,” Lori laughed as Willa flushed bright pink.
“The cabin sounds perfect.” No doubt he should apologize for arriving early, but he’d learned years ago in business that apologizing was often taken as a sign of weakness. “Will the rate—”
“We’ll charge you the same rate as the tower suite,” Lori assured him.
“Perfect.” He pulled out his debit card and handed it over with barely a twinge of unease. As long as he and his brother were at odds over how to save the business, he wasn’t going to give Antony any ammunition to use against him. Which meant for the foreseeable future, he’d be footing the bill on this project himself. The private kitchen would be a plus, especially if it had a microwave. He could stock up and not worry about eating out at every meal, which meant he could get his work done all the faster and maybe be back home in time for the holiday.
“Would you like to make a reservation at Flutterby Dreams for dinner this evening?” Willa asked, still seated at the computer. “We have a few tables still open.”
“Not this evening, no.” Although the appeal of eating at one of Jason Corwin’s four-star restaurants again was tempting. How he missed the wining and dining of clients with expensive food and even more expensive wine. If things went as planned, this time next year he’d be back to schmoozing at Rockefeller Center or, even better,