“Theoretically, it could work. But you know it takes years to build up a place. I’m not sure he has the patience.”

“It could fail in a year,” Ivy said.

“Everything can fail, Ivy.”

“He told me I’m too cautious.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Having a hard time getting jump-started, then.”

“He wants you to be the chef, doesn’t he?” Dani asked.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I told him once he sent over a proposal, I’d look at the numbers, but I made no promises.”

“I think he means well,” Dani said. “And I know the building he’s talking about. It’s a great location.” Dani eyed Ivy. “You really interested?”

“Don’t look so shocked. I’ve been thinking about all the things I could have done differently. I don’t want to disappoint anyone again.”

“If you think going into business with Matthew is going to right old wrongs, it won’t.”

“I’m not trying to change the past.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’ve seen enough restaurant mistakes and successes in New York. I’m older, wiser.”

“Woulda, shoulda, coulda, right?”

“Ruth used to say that,” Ivy said.

“She never looked back. She learned from the past but never dwelled too long on the might-have-beens,” Dani said.

“I should be so lucky.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CARLOTTA

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CARLOTTA

Monday, June 19, 1950, 7:00 a.m.

The storm had swept in fast from the Atlantic, bringing howling winds that slammed against the cottage, waking Carlotta sometime after 1:00 a.m. She felt trapped and small while the storm raged around her, as it had that first summer on the Maisy Adams. The winds had shrieked and pounded against the showboat, biting into the vessel’s boards and rivets. Mother Nature had rippled her fingers over the water, churning it, reminding everyone she held the power.

After that first Atlantic storm, she had packed her bag, ready to return to solid ground. No more wind and waves for her. But there’d been a young man, as there always seemed to be, and he had convinced her to stay.

Fourteen years later, the boy was long gone, but she still lived on the Maisy Adams, still enjoyed traveling up and down the East Coast and along the inland waterways, rivers, sounds, and bays. When the captain blared the ship’s horn, everyone near the town docks came running to see the paddle wheel arrive. Crowds always grew quickly, everyone excited for their little circus on the water.

The Seaside Resort performances had gone well. Both nights, she’d been a hit, and each time she’d stepped out onto the stage, there’d been more chairs and people. Tonight would be her third night. One more night, and she’d break her record for the longest stay in a port. She would then find out if her popularity was a novelty or if she had the staying power to keep drawing in a crowd night after night.