"Me too," Elena added.
"We don't know that they're going to come in and change everything," Ivy said carefully.
"You know that's how it is. An outsider buying up properties is never a good thing," Daria said. Her tone had a bite to it.
"It'll be okay. You're not going to lose your business," Elena said, reaching across the table to cover Daria's hand.
"I don't know what I'd do if I was forced to close. I can't afford to move to another building. The rents are astronomically high." Her eyes were shiny.
"I can't imagine that would happen. The island council wants to keep the legacy businesses running," Ivy reassured her.
"Maybe they'll go somewhere else and find another island to buy up," Daria said hopefully.
"They haven't bought anything yet. You know how these things are. They can take years, and sometimes nothing comes from it," Ivy said gently.
Daria blew out a breath. "You're right. I remember something similar happening when my grandmother ran the store. She worried for nothing."
Conversation turned to other things going on around the island, but my mind was occupied with everything I needed to do if I wanted to host art classes soon. I barely drank anything, so I was fine to drive home once the girls made moves to depart.
I texted Dalton to let him know I was leaving, and the light was shining on the porch when I parked. Dalton opened the door for me when I stepped on the porch.
He grinned when he saw me, and I walked into his arms.
"How was your night?"
I looked up at him, content to be with him. "It was good. Thanks for making me go."
He smiled. "I told you they were great."
"Hazel talked me into offering art classes at the library," I said, still feeling a little surprised by her enthusiasm.
Dalton closed the door behind me, drawing me outside to our spot. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
I sat on the couch next to him. "I wasn't prepared to do it so soon. I don't have any supplies. I'd need portable easels, paints, brushes, sponges."
He held up his hands. "Slow down. We'll figure it out."
I loved that he said we. This was something I should be doing, but I was grateful for any help I could get. Then I panicked. "I don't have a big enough car to transport a bunch of easels."
"You can use my truck. I'll help you move everything."
"You shouldn't have to do things for me."
"Blake. Let me help you with this. You have a problem, and I can fix it. Why wouldn't I?"
I looked at his face. He wanted to help me. "You're right. I'm being ridiculous. I'll need to get supplies." My heart rate picked up. "But what if no one signs up?"
"I'm positive that won't be the case," Dalton said confidently.
I wiped my hands on my skirt. "This is the right thing to do. It will force me to figure out what I want to do with my life."
"There's no rush. Just because society says you have to go to school in a certain order doesn't mean your life has to be linear."
"It's hard not to do the things I've always been expected to do." My parents didn't understand why I'd stepped away from the doctorate program.
"You already paused your program. You might as well go all in."
I knew he was right. That I was worried about doing something new. That's all this was. It wasn't a larger, looming decision about our relationship that had me panicking. "I'm going to focus on making this the best art class the island has ever seen."
