Exactly the kind of project I love—a historic property we can restore with a thoughtful modern twist. A space we can put our own mark on.

By day, I’m a professor of twentieth century literature (and romance!). I’ve been enamored with the bohemian ideals and lifestyles of literary greats since I could remember. On the side, I take on select interior design projects. My dad was an architect, and the two of us shared a passion for all things design related. Working on projects like this is my way of keeping Daddy close to my heart.

I accepted this particular project because Luke, the owner, is my good friend Gracie’s boyfriend. He loved the design work I did at her downtown coffee shop, Holy City Roasters. I was his first pick to design the farmer’s market and storefront he’s building out here on his farm on Wadmalaw Island. He grows the freshest heirloom produce and mills the tastiest grits in the area, and he plans to sell them in this barn.

But first, we have to give the space a significant face-lift. Which is where the venture capital people come in. They’ll provide the money, while I’ll take care of the creative side of things.

The barn door, hanging by a rusted metal hinge, is open. Looping my tote bag over my elbow, I step inside to see Luke and another man standing in the middle of the open space. As usual, I’m running a few minutes behind.

“Hey, Julia!” Luke says, offering me a smile before pulling me into a hug. “How you been?”

“I’ve been all right,” I reply. I’m smiling, too. One of my favorite things about Luke is his thick Southern accent. It’s authentic and charming, and I have no problem seeing why it affects Gracie so much. “Excited to get started here. Luke, your property is absolutely stunning.”

Stepping back, he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his faded jeans and nods proudly. “Thank you. Gracie and I’ve been workin’ real hard to get it in shape.”

My skin prickles with a strange, warm awareness.

The heat of the other man’s gaze, I realize.

Turning my head, I find a pair of icy blue eyes, rimmed with long, dark lashes, locked on my face.

“Y’all know each other, right?” Luke is saying. “Julia, this is Greyson Montgomery.”

“We’ve exchanged emails,” I reply. “But we’ve never actually met.”

Greyson and his brother Ford are the founding members of a venture capital firm here in Charleston. They raise private money to invest in the city’s booming hospitality scene. Restaurants, bars, shops like Gracie’s, markets, hotels—you name it, Montgomery Partners is involved.

I’ve worked with the firm before, when they helped Gracie realize her dream of expanding Holy City Roasters. Ford was my point person for that project; I never saw Greyson in person.

“Greyson Montgomery,” the man says, holding out a hand. “Montgomery Partners.”

I take it, giving it a firm shake. It’s huge and warm and engulfs my own.