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“This is a beautiful building,” I said.

She gave me a professional smile. “Mr. West worked on this project.”

I ran my hand over the polished wood of the banister. “I didn’t know that.”

She nodded. “Just over two years ago. Everything from the studs out is new. That’s when he got the idea for the North Landing project.”

I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked around. Ahead there was an open area with chairs and two large multipaned windows that overlooked the harbor. Several of what I assumed were offices opened off the space.

“Jon does beautiful work,” I said.

She gave me that polished smile again. “Thank you. I’ll tell him you said that.”

“How long have you been in North Harbor?” I asked.

“Not long,” she said, leading me over to the chairs by the window. “Mr. West and I drove up from Boston together on the twenty-third.”

“This is very different from Boston.”

The professional smile got a little warmer. “I grew up in a small town. I like it here.” She tipped her head to one side. “Were you at The Black Bear last Thursday night, by any chance?”

I grinned at her. “Weren’t they terrific?”

“Incredible,” she said. “Do they do that every Thursday night?”

I nodded. “In the off-season, yes.” I gave her an appraising look. “So maybe we’ll see you this week?”

“Absolutely.” She gestured at the chair. “Have a seat and I’ll let Ms. Redding know you’re here.”

“That’s all right, Charmaine,” a familiar voice said behind me. “I’m here.”

I turned around to find my freshman-year college roommate standing there smiling at me.

“Hi, Sarah.” Sloane Redding crossed the few feet between us.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” I said. I hesitated and then hugged her. We broke out of the hug and grinned at each other.

Charmaine Kellogg was still standing beside me, a polite smile on her face.

Sloane turned to her. “Thanks, Charmaine,” she said. “I’ll take it from here.”

The younger woman nodded and headed for the stairs.

“You look wonderful.” Sloane gave me a quick appraising look.

“So do you,” I said. Her auburn hair was short, casually tousled in a cut that had probably cost more than a hundred dollars. Her wire-framed glasses had been replaced with nerd-chic black frames. She was wearing a slim brown pencil skirt with a jewel-toned turquoise blouse and heels that brought her up to my height.

“Come back to my office,” she said. She led me down a short jag of the hallway to an office with one exposed-brick wall and another beautiful view of the harbor. “Have a seat,” she said, indicating a pair of armless upholstered chairs in front of a long distressed table that she was using as a desk. I took one chair and she sat down in the other.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “The last time I saw you, you were going to be a teacher. How did you go from that to all this?” I gestured at the room.

She smoothed her skirt over her knees. “Do you remember that semester I did in Mexico?”

I nodded.

“I worked at a school three days a week.” Her mouth twisted to one side for a moment. “I was lousy at it. I knew by the end of the first week that teaching was not going to be my life’s work.”

“It was really that bad?” I asked.

She leaned forward and nodded. “My adviser suggested I consider another major.”

“Ouch!”

“Tell me about it,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“So what happened?” I asked. “The last thing I heard, you were taking a semester off and staying in Mexico.”

She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “That’s what I did, for a couple of months, until my dad said he wasn’t sending me any more money.” She laughed. “He told me I had to get a job. So I came home and found one working the reception desk at an investment firm. When it was time to come back to school, I knew I wanted to study business.” Her expression changed. “Sarah, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I said.

“For pretty much disappearing without an explanation. I thought about you a lot. I should have written or called or something. I spent a lot of time sulking.” She shrugged. “I was a brat.”

“I did wonder what happened to you,” I said. “I’m glad that now I know.” I smiled at her.

“And I’m sorry I didn’t try to find out whether you were in town. It’s not an excuse, but I didn’t get here until the twenty-third.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

Sloane smiled and leaned back in her chair. “So tell me why you wanted to see me.”

I folded my hands in my lap and started in on the spiel I’d planned as I was driving down. “I have a business here in town—Second Chance—it’s a repurpose shop. A couple of my friends are planning on moving into North Landing, assuming it goes ahead, and I wanted to know more. I knew the Wellington Group was one of the investors in the project, and when I saw that you worked for them, I thought maybe I could get the inside track on the project.” So far nothing I’d said wasn’t true.

“You know the project has had some problems?” she said.

I was surprised by her bluntness, which must have shown on my face.

“I didn’t think there was any point in beating around the bush with you,” she said. “Unless you’ve changed a lot.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I remembered you talking about spending your summers here,” Sloane said. “I didn’t know you were living here or that you have a business.”

The woman sitting next to me was far more polished and professional than my college friend had been, but I could see the girl I used to know underneath the beautiful clothes and expensive haircut.

“Sarah, the Wellington Group has a lot of money already invested in this development idea and the potential to make a lot more if it’s as successful as we believe it can be. We have a responsibility to our investors to make this work, and I can promise you North Landing is back on track.”

“Because Lily Carter is dead?” I asked.

Sloane was clearly prepared for my question. She didn’t so much as blink. “What happened to her is very sad, but it has nothing to do with the development. Yes, it would have been easier if she’d been willing to sell the bakery to us. We were willing to compensate her very well.”

She tipped her head to one side and studied me. “You run your own business, so you know that there’s nothing personal in a business decision. Yes, the Wellington Group stands to make money if North Landing is successful, but so does North Harbor, and since the project clearly benefits the town, sometimes compromise has to be made.”

“You mean the town was going to expropriate Lily’s land,” I said, trying to sum up her two long sentences into one.

“That was one of the options talked about,” Sloane said.

“I thought that was something that couldn’t be done in this case.”

She gave me a professional smile that had no real warmth in it. I was reminded that the fact that we had once been friends didn’t mean we still had a connection. “We have a lot of resources and staff with experience in this kind of thing.”

It was as close as she was going to come to admitting somehow they were using influence behind the scenes.

Sloane turned and picked up a cardboard accordion file from the desk behind us. “Take this with you, Sarah,” she said. “It has all the details about the North Landing project—specs, financials, projected ROI. If you think it’s a good deal, then I hope you’ll think about moving your business downtown, but if you don’t, I’m still happy I got to see you.”

She stood up, and I realized the meeting was over. I got to my feet as well.