At least that kiss was what it was

Eric stood on the dock and watched a row of boats bobbing in the water. Irritated waves kept rising and crashing against the shore as a harbinger of winter. The orange sunset crept through the menacing darkness and splashed brightly into the light arch of the Beacon Newburgh bridge. He reached into his Armani jacket and inhaled the clean, fresh air. Calmness seeped through his body as he stared at the mountain he loved so much, and once again, he knew this was where he belonged.

Ten years ago, this riverside area was plagued with drug dealers and addicts. The beautiful waterfront was littered with trash, the elegant brick buildings stood in the wilderness, their windows broken like a scream for help. Finally, investors also saw the potential of this area and began to throw money into a recovery dream.

Eric and his uncle took the time to carefully monitor the project. Somehow, they suspected that a profitable opportunity would eventually come to Dreamscape. First a daredevil opened a b