“Hey, guys! Coffee break?” A voice bellowed from the top of the dune. Julianne heard the echo of four keys turning off four ignitions, and then the clomping of eight individual work boots scampering down the beach toward whichever grunt had been sent on a Dunkin’
Donuts run. (Okay, maybe she was projecting a little bit on the last part . . .)
“So, what’s the game plan for the afternoon, Tom?” she heard a deep voice call out across the dune.
“More demolition. We need to clear this entire area.
No brush left. It needs to be buildable ground,” Deep Voice Number Two, presumably Tom, called back.
“How much ground are we talking here?” asked a third guy.
“The whole thing. We’re taking out this entire pen.” Tom didn’t hesitate for a moment.
“What are they building?” Deep Voice Number One asked. “Pretty big demo order for a house.” 111
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“A gym, I think,” Tom said offhandedly.
Julianne scanned the dunes around her and let her eyes rest on the ocean. It shimmered another new shade of turquoise in the afternoon light. She shuddered. How could anyone think that a gym, or a sauna, or any other extravagant convenience was more important than this beach? There were gyms all over. Already built and good enough for everyone else she knew.
“Like an LA/Sports Club?” joked another guy.
“Nah, not a franchise or anything.” Tom laughed.
“They’re building a gym addition onto the house. A waterfront gym.”
Julianne felt like she was going to burst out of her skin. A gym? The Moores were destroying this beautiful beach, taking land away from people who had loved it their entire lives, so that they could have a better view from their elliptical machine? Why couldn’t they just put a couple of machines in their basement like normal people? Or work out on the actual beach? Maybe they should hire a live-in spin instructor too! Just when she thought there couldn’t be a more stupid, ridiculous, petty reason for the Moores to keep building onto their monster mansion, they completely surprised her by raising the bar yet again. What could three people need so much space for? Two people, when Remi went back to school! Julianne was appalled.
She felt a burst of cold air as a new shadow fell over 112
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her. She shivered and crossed her hands over her bare arms. Then the shadow cleared its throat. Julianne’s eyes shot up in alarm. Remi was towering over her, his no-longer-so-skinny arms crossed in front of his chest, looking much more imposing than the twelve-foot dune.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Nothing. You know. Just listening to my iPod,” Julianne said casually, trying to shrug while slowly standing up.
“I hear the sound quality’s a lot better if you actually turn it on.” He raised one eyebrow. Crap.
“Thanks for the hint. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.” Julianne tried to capture her sassiest comeback voice.
“Left alone to do what? Continue eavesdropping on my father’s construction crew?” There was self-righteousness rising in Remi’s voice, mingling with teasing amusement. Julianne felt her pulse rising along with it.
“I think you mean demolition crew,” Julianne corrected, matching him note for sarcastic note. “I don’t see any construction going on here—just a whole lot of bulldozing. And I don’t need to explain myself to you.
Some parts of this beach are still public. At least for now.”
“Julianne, what the hell is your problem?” Remi burst out, clearly frustrated. Julianne felt a pang, seeing Remi’s usually handsome face contorted and shouting.
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“This is my dad’s dream house, and they’re making great progress.”
“Progress? This isn’t progress! It’s . . . it’s . . . greedy and selfish. Your family is grabbing up every last morsel of space, every last grain of sand, so that you can have all of it to yourselves. It’s not about making something—it’s about proving that you’re the biggest kid in the sandbox.” After weeks of lying low and “monitoring progress,” it felt so good to just yell and let her anger pour out.
“I don’t understand why you’re taking this so personally!” Remi bellowed back at her. “My dad is an amazing architect and this is his home. It’s all he’s ever wanted—
it’s his legacy. Why does that bother you so much?”
“You are defending this? What’s with the infinite faith in your dad? How can you be so sure that he doesn’t have it all wrong?” Julianne posed the question half as a challenge and half because she genuinely wanted to know.
“He’s a brilliant architect!” Remi exclaimed, stretching his arm toward Julianne as if to put his hand over her shaking hands.
“And that means he can’t be wrong? Why? He’s wrong about you! He doesn’t even think you can handle your own job site, but you trust him completely? That’s just weird!” Julianne pressed on, undeterred by the fact that she had just inadvertently spilled the beans about eavesdropping earlier in the week.
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“He’s my dad, Jules. And he’s worked his entire life for this,” Remi said quietly, seeming to ignore Julianne’s slipup.
“Well, did it ever occur to you that other people have worked their entire lives to afford the tiny slices of space that they live on? To sit at their windows and take in the view that you guys just bulldozed? The beach you’re wiping out to make your gigantic glass jungle gym belongs to this entire neighborhood!” The words were tumbling out of Julianne’s mouth, rolling over and over each other like marbles. Her mouth was thick with emotion and she was choking back tears. “Some people barely have any thing left, Remi,” she wailed. “Do you really need to take the beach away from them for some house?” It was all Julianne could do to keep from sob-bing. Her throat was burning from the screaming and from swallowing angry tears. She knew she probably wasn’t making any sense, but she just needed him to hear her now.
“Maybe this is bigger than just ‘some house’!” Remi shouted back at her. “My dad has been working for this for so long. I can’t even tell you what it means to him—
this is his artistic vision . . .” As he babbled on about his father’s dream, his voice was so earnest that Julianne knew he meant every word. All he wanted was to make her understand.
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him off. If anyone needed to understand the real importance of this beach, it was the Moores. “Name one life that’s being made more beautiful by what is happening here, Remi!” Her feet dug into the sand as she tore off down the beach to grab her easel. “Want to talk about artistic vision?” she cried, spinning back to Remi. “You know who had it? My mom! And her vision was all about this beach. The one your family is destroying! I can barely see her beach anymore. Soon it will be impossible to remember what she must have seen. But if you think I’m going to give up her beach without a fight, Remi Moore, you have another thing coming. This beach is more than just sand to my family—it’s all we have left of my mother. It’s the only place where she still feels alive. And I’m sorry if my family’s past is getting in the way of your dad’s bright, shiny future, but that’s too damn bad!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Julianne saw Remi’s mouth open to speak, his eyes wide. But there was nothing she wanted to hear from him right now. The sand flew up behind her as she raced to her easel.
Julianne’s afternoon of perfect blue was perfectly ruined.
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Chapter Eleven
!
“ Yo, Jules! Toss me those blueprints!” Beau called up to Julianne.
“No problem. Coming right down,” she called back, tossing the rolled-up specs down from her perch in the rafters.