“I guess we never had the ‘how are you spending your summer vacation’ talk, did we?” Remi chuckled.

“During the school year, I intern for this architectural firm up in Seattle. They do a lot of really interesting stuff—eco-friendly, sustainable—and a lot of structurally innovative stuff, too.” Remi spoke quickly, with what seemed like genuine enthusiasm.

Jules couldn’t help notice the way his button-down shirt drew attention to his strong chin and the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke. No, no, no, she reminded herself. You can’t like him. You just can’t.

Julianne could tell that he was really excited about the house they were building, maybe even as excited as 73

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she was, but she was determined to affect a look of casual disinterest. So what if he was cute, smart, funny, and came complete with cool academic interests? He was probably still a jerk. Well, he was certainly the son of jerks.

And there was a good chance he would turn into a jerk himself. He probably wasn’t even that interested in eco-design anyway—maybe he had been wait-listed for some suit-required corporate internship and had gotten shuffled into this job.

“So when my folks told me they were moving down here, it seemed like a really good opportunity to check out the LA office,” Remi added. “It’s a newer office, a little bit smaller; so that’s how I got to project manage this summer. Basically, it’s a cool job and an independent study all rolled up into one, you know?” Julianne nodded slowly, only half-processing what he was saying.

“So what are you doing here?” Remi asked. Julianne tried to avoid his eyes, which were still—much as she hated to admit it—warm and syrupy.

“Bill Cullen, the contractor, set me up with the job,” Julianne explained. “He saw one of my sculpture pieces in the Chamber of Commerce and called and asked if I’d be interested in trying this. Plus, I like to be outside, work with my hands, and try new things. Like you said, it’s sort of a combination of business and pleasure.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Julianne kicked herself. Business and pleasure? she repeated to her-74

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self. Did I really just say that out loud?

Remi nodded appreciatively, oblivious to Julianne’s discomfort. He wiped his hands on the sides of his pants before responding. “I want you to know, I can be totally professional. I promise not to make this weird.” Julianne’s blue eyes widened with disbelief and her jaw muscles tightened.

“Excuse me?” she managed to choke out, trying desperately to figure out how things could possibly get any weirder. She pushed up the sleeves of her T-shirt, like she was getting ready for a fight. The whole construction site, which had felt so magical and full of possibility just half an hour ago, seemed to be shrinking, closing in on her.

“I said that I want you to know that I can be totally professional,” Remi repeated sweetly. “And that I promise not to make this weird.”

Julianne’s head was swimming. She couldn’t believe he was here at this construction site, when his parents were clearly the antithesis of everything the eco-house represented. Even more, she couldn’t believe the effect he was having on her. This was never going to work. It was too confusing, too messy. But she wasn’t about to walk away from this fabulous job without a fight. That would mean leaving the crew short a person and relegat-ing herself to a summer spent indoors selling surf wax or ice cream.

“Julianne? Are you okay?” Remi asked gently, peering 75

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at her across the desk.

Please let him disappear, please let him magically disappear, Julianne silently begged. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, but when she opened them back up, Remi was still there. And looking at him made her weak in the knees.

“I think you should leave,” she blurted out. “Or I should leave. Someone should leave.” Remi’s eyes widened in surprise. “Um, okay. I can go back outside, but it would help if you could tell me why I’m going?” He said it like Julianne had presented him with a riddle and, if he solved it, there’d be some sort of prize.

“I believe in what everyone’s doing here, and I want to be a part of it,” she said shakily.

“Okay,” Remi said again slowly. “So far, it sounds like we’re both on the same page.”

“I don’t think we are,” Julianne said, more definitively than she felt. “At least, I know I’m not on the same page as your parents.”

“What?” Remi crinkled his brow, genuinely befud-dled. “What do my parents have to do with this job? You don’t even know my parents.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re Remi Moore?” Julianne shot at him, eyes blazing. Her voice was a lethal combination of pure sugar and pure steel.

“Why didn’t I tell you my last name?” Remi tried to keep up with Julianne, but he looked like a lost puppy.

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Julianne tried not to get distracted by how adorable he was when he was confused. Just stay angry, she told herself. Now we’re getting somewhere.

“I didn’t realize I hadn’t told you my last name. I guess it never came up. I can try again. Hi, I’m Remi Moore. Nice to meet you.” Remi smiled at Julianne, waiting for her response.

Julianne just shook her head from side to side, mute.

“Okay,” Remi said, trying again. “Remi is short for Remington, but no one other than my folks ever uses the full name. My full, full name is Remington Justin Moore. When I was in third grade the other kids teased me because they thought Remington sounded like the name of a British butler. My cousin Sophie also said that the Remington is a type of razor or something, but I’d never heard of it.” He continued to smile weakly in Julianne’s direction. When Julianne still didn’t answer, his face slumped a little. “Jules,” he said quietly, his big brown eyes begging. “I really don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

Her frustration boiling inside, Julianne finally spat out, “Your parents’ house! That’s what’s wrong!” Remi looked at her as though she were arguing her case in ancient Mayan or something. “Why do you care about my parents’ house? I really don’t understand.”

“It’s destroying the beach!” Julianne nearly wailed.

“You know, the beach where I grew up? Where I live 77

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now? With my family? The beach where we hung out the other day?”

“Julianne, this doesn’t make any sense,” Remi protested. “Listen, I’m really sorry that you don’t like the house, but it’s my parents’ house. Not mine. I didn’t design it. I didn’t build it. And, last time I checked, my parents weren’t in the habit of asking the professional opinion of their eighteen-year-old son before making major life choices. If they were, I wouldn’t have spent my entire life toting around the name Remington. If you’re wondering, I also didn’t get to weigh in on their retirement plans.” He paused, as if waiting for Julianne to crack a smile.

“You just don’t understand,” Julianne replied bitterly.

“Do you even know what that house could do to my family?”

“No!” Remi exclaimed, his face knitted in frustration.

“That’s what I’m trying to say—I have no idea! And I have no idea what I have to do with any of it. Please, please explain it to me!”

Julianne’s mind raced. Was he playing dumb? How could he not see? It was so obvious! Overwhelmed with emotion, she plopped back down in the desk chair. As she opened her mouth to try to explain one last time, the trailer door opened and Mitch popped in.

“Hey, Jules.” He nodded his head in acknowledgment at Remi before continuing. “Just wanted to check in.

How’s it going? Need anything?”

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Julianne thought for a split second before getting up and gathering her things. “Yeah, Mitch, actually I do.