me and snow and spring skiing and fireplaces and old, old bottles of cabernet. Ring any bells?”
“Hmm.” He grinned, raised his eyebrows, and hoped Julie would understand a change in plans.
“If you’re canceling, you’d better have a really, really good reason.” She straightened the collar of his olive green polo shirt.
“Apparently I’ve inherited a house right on the ocean, just south of Cannon Beach.”
“Cannon Beach?” A scowl flashed across her face. “Didn’t you once tell me you hated Cannon Beach?”
“I used to love it.”
“What? You did?”
“Forget it.” Sorry, Archie. The emotions that stupid letter wanted him to face would never see daylight.
Julie stared at him, but he ignored it.
“Let me see something.” Julie leaned over him as her red fingernails danced over his keyboard until a sampling of Cannon Beach oceanfront homes for sale flashed on-screen. “Take a look at these prices.” She tapped his monitor. “Your little gift could be worth $3 million plus. Throw a sign on it and make some quick cash.”
“Exactly. The quicker the better.”
“That’s why I love you, Micah. Cha-ching. Where did this mystery house come from?”
He picked up the letter and drew it across his hand like a blade. “My great-uncle, whom I’ve never met, had it built for me.”
“You never met him and he gives you a house?”
“Weird, huh?” Micah snapped his fingers. “So this weekend, let’s head for the sand, see if it’s real, and if it is, put a For Sale sign on it and make some money.”
“Instead of Whistler?” Her shoulders sagged.
“You’re right.” He ran his finger over the surface of the letter. “Let’s go skiing.”
“Wow. You really need to get this taken care of, don’t you?”
Julie didn’t wait for an answer. A few seconds later, Google Earth splashed onto Micah’s monitor. “Address?”
Micah read it to her off the letter. In moments they gazed at a patch of dirt overlooking the ocean.
“Not even a pile of concrete,” Julie said.
“Maybe, maybe not.” Micah punched a few keys. “Look. That satellite image is seven months old. Archie’s letter says the home was built by somebody during the past five months.” Micah’s gaze stayed riveted on his screen. “There could be—”
“How ’bout I make you a deal so you can go to the beach, Mr. Break-My-Heart.”
“Hey, it’s not that important for—”
“No, no, stay with me here. I know that look. You have to go. If you switch out our weekend at Whistler for a week in the Alps, we have a deal.”
“Then you’ll come with me this weekend?”
“No.”
“What? I’m not sure I want to do this by myself.”
Julie slid her finger across Micah’s cheek and turned his head toward her. “Something tells me you need to do this alone.”
It would be his first time in Cannon Beach in more than twenty years. And his last. Without question the last.
CHAPTER 2
Too late to head for Cannon Beach to see if the place was real? Probably. Micah walked through his penthouse doorway that evening the moment the numbers on his digital clock snapped from 8:59 to 9:00.
He tapped his phone to get his messages and slumped onto his couch, hoping one would be from his dad—dreading one of them would be from his dad.
“Hello, son,” his dad’s deep voice trundled out from the machine. “Received your call today. No need to call back. The only response for anything having to do with Archie Taylor is to run in the opposite direction. I don’t need to know what the letter says. Burn it and forget it. That’s what I’d do. What I expect you to do.”
Micah sighed. Joy. That’d be a fun call to return.
He got up to pour himself a glass of Diet Coke and stopped on the way to the kitchen in front of a framed picture of Julie and him on the cover of Inc. magazine hanging in the hallway. Their first cover story. A lifetime ago. He kissed his fingers and touched the glass. He’d popped the cork on a bottle of champagne that day. They’d made it.
Too bad the champagne of success seemed to be losing its bubbles.
After getting the Diet Coke, he clicked on his Panasonic big screen and glanced at the wall on either side of it. Blank. Last time Julie was over, they’d had the same conversation they had ten times before about his penthouse’s lack of decor.
“Why don’t you put some art on the walls, Micah? Some paintings? Or pictures? At least something.”
“I don’t have any.”
“Well, buy some, or put up those drawings and paintings you did