"To get the Edgewater business. Business that I have just learned," he glanced at the discarded phone with a disgusted look, "has been reopened for bidding."
"It has?" That didn't make sense. If her father had won the proposal, and arranged the three-week extension, why would Gilmore reopen the bidding?
She took a few steps closer to his desk, glancing at the two pictures beside the phone. One was her, at seven years old on a carousel horse. The other was a formal wedding shot of Eugene and Catherine Harrington. With the way things had been between them for the past fifteen years, it was a wonder he'd kept it there.
"Gilmore just announced a new bid on the property," he said. "He's going to limit it to a few firms, but we're still in."
"I'm surprised. I assumed you had this thing sewn up."
He frowned at her. "Not at all. Everything changed when McGrath dropped out of the original bidding without an explanation. Do you know why?"
"I came here to ask questions, not answer them." The freedom of speaking her mind gave her a little thrill and enough confidence to sit. "I want to know why you arranged that charade and put me in the middle of it."
Her father's eyes narrowed. "Who told you that?"
"I figured it out."
"You're wrong," he insisted.
"You're lying."
"You're wrong about it being a charade."
"Then what the hell would you call it, Dad?"
She didn't know if he flinched at the mild curse, or the sarcastic way she'd said Dad.
He cleared his throat. "Well, Grace, in my day, we called it a setup. I don't know what they call it now."
"A setup?" Gracie leaned forward. "What does that mean?"
He pursed his lips and regarded her, then stood to gaze at Boston Harbor. Crossing his arms, he let out a long, gusty sigh. "I was trying to be a matchmaker, Grace."
The blood drained from her head as she processed the word matchmaker. "Excuse me?"
"I thought you belonged with him."
She tried to stand, but now her legs refused, so she leaned against the back of the chair and stared at him. Then a short, unbidden laugh burst from her. "You're kidding, right?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm not kidding."
This was a magnitude of manipulation too high even for Eugene Harrington. "You tried to … set me up with Colin McGrath?"
He met her gaze with a defiant stare. "I want you to find love, Grace, is that so hard to understand? I want you to be happier than…" His gaze drifted to the picture by the phone. "Like every father since the dawn of time, I want something better for you than what I have."
For a long, quiet minute, she just couldn't speak. Finally, she asked, "Don't you trust me to do anything on my own?"
He gave her an unsure smile. "Of course I do. I just thought it was an opportunity to help you along. This young man cares deeply for you."
"How on earth do you know that? You only met him once, right? At a job interview?"
"Yes. And I never forgot him." He cocked his head as though remembering the meeting. "I would have moved mountains to get that architect in H&H, but there was no way he'd ever consider it."
"He's too independent."
He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose that's part of it. But it was you, Grace. He could barely say your name. And when he did, there was a light in his eyes."
Her heart stuttered and then slowed. She'd seen that light. And she'd extinguished it … with the help of her father.
"He told me that he'd always admired you from afar, in college. And he told me that he couldn't work here because of his feelings for you." He swung his desk chair around and sat. "He has integrity, Grace. Talent, integrity and a wealth of feelings for my daughter." He shrugged and nodded in acknowledgement of a mistake. "I thought I'd help things along."
"So you took control and tried to arrange my destiny?"
"I like to control things." He folded his arms and leaned forward. "You inherited that trait."
Fury bubbled up inside her, only to be squashed by common sense and … something else. Oh, yes. Love.
She loved her father. And he, in his clumsy, cold and controlling way, loved her, too. "I just can't believe Gilmore went for it."
"He did, and he agreed to give us his butler to help." He tried to look apologetic. "We understand things didn't end too nicely."
"That would be just how Lenny would understate it."
"Lenny?"
She just shook her head. "Forget it. I have something to tell you."
"Yes?"
"I'm resigning my position. Effective immediately."
His eyes widened as he jumped out of his chair. "What?"
"I'm leaving H&H, Dad. Thank you for the opportunity to be here. I'm going out on my own."
"Grace!" His voiced boomed through the room. "You cannot quit. What on earth will you do?"
"Well," she said as she stood. "The first thing I'm going to do is go after the Edgewater business."
His jaw set in a hard, familiar expression. "If you take our ideas for Edgewater, Grace, it would be a breach of your employment contract." She saw a vein pop in his temple. The one that always danced when he thought he might lose control. "You cannot rebuild Edgewater."
"Don't worry." She gave him a sly smile and pulled her handbag over her shoulder. "I have no intention of rebuilding Edgewater."
He opened his mouth to respond, but she just turned and walked out the door.
* * *
The fact that Adrian Gilmore chose Boston as the site for the final round of presentations gave Grace the distinct impression that H&H remained the front-runner for the business. The fact that he'd scheduled the meeting for late on a Friday afternoon meant he expected to entertain the winner of the bid afterward. She smoothed the sleeve of the hot-pink sweater she'd selected for the presentation. She intended to soar today.
She climbed the marble stairs to the second-floor conference rooms at the Ritz Carlton, buoyed by a self-assurance she was still learning to enjoy. It wasn't just the daring sweater and sleek black skirt that gave her the kick of confidence. And she certainly hadn't mended her shattered heart, but starting her own firm and making the final cut for Adrian Gilmore's business had gone a long way to bolstering her sagging ego.
By the end of the day, Harrington Designs would have its first major client. Adrian Gilmore had not confirmed which other firms had made the final selection, but that didn't matter to Grace. Of course she'd be up against H&H, but her ideas would be in a different league from theirs.
Diane, Adrian's secretary, greeted her outside the closed doors. "Hello, Grace. Why am I not surprised that you're first?"
Grace laughed lightly. "Some habits die hard. Can I go in?"
Diane nodded. "Go right ahead. I expect the other two firms shortly and Adrian will be just a few more minutes."
There would be three competitors, then. Thanking Diane, Grace stepped into the empty room, took a seat, and opened her portfolio. The first official presentation of Harrington Designs, Inc., was a good one. She'd every reason to be proud.
She heard her father's laugh as he entered the conference room with Adrian. When they saw Grace, all three exchanged businesslike pleasantries. Adrian had been surprised when Grace had left H&H to start her own firm, but he obviously had enough belief in her work to give her a shot.
He took the head of the table, and her father sat next to him. Looking at his watch, Adrian looked pointedly at Diane in the doorway. "If McGrath isn't here in two minutes, he's out."
McGrath.
Oh, God. Every drop of blood and all that delicious confidence drained away, leaving Grace's arms leaden and a black hole in the vicinity of her stomach. Or was that her heart?
"Don't you dare cut me out, Adrian." Colin's honey-toned voice washed over her at the same time she caught the first whiff of his scent. "I have the winning designs here. And the best team in the world."
Suddenly the room was filled with men. Three tall, commanding, over
powering beings all bearing an uncanny resemblance to each other … yet all very different.
One had sandy-blond hair, trimmed flawlessly, and wore an achingly expensive designer suit, custom-cut to fit the expansive man inside it. Next to him, a near carbon copy of Colin, with the same thick dark hair. But his was worn short, except for a wayward lock that fell over his forehead right above striking eyebrows and black-coffee eyes. Dressed in khakis and a navy blazer, no tie, he looked as if he had just stepped off a yacht.
Good heavens. The McGrath brothers had arrived and sucked all the air and life right out of the room.
Behind them, Colin sauntered in, unfazed by his usual late arrival or the fact that he'd tripled the size of his pitch team. Bracing herself for the expected jolt, Grace stood to face him.
At the sight of her, he froze for a fraction of a second, and stared at her, then his gaze flickered over her sweater.
"Hello, Grace."
Grace.
For some reason, that hurt more than anything.
She nodded, keeping her expression as blank as his. "Colin."
A round of hand-shaking broke the awkward moment as Colin greeted Adrian and her father, and introduced his brothers, Cameron and Quinn.
"Sorry about the added population," he said quietly to Adrian. "I really wanted them here because my brothers were instrumental in developing the master plan for Edgewater."
The master plan? Grace's stomach dipped at the thought. What was he going to present? She'd never counted on competing against Colin. Never dreamed he'd be in this room.
"That's fine," Adrian responded. "We're ready to go. H&H drew number one for presentation, so Eugene will start."
"But…" Colin glanced at Grace, then back at Adrian. "I understood three firms would be competing today."
"There are three firms here." Adrian indicated her father. "Hazelwood and Harrington." He nodded toward Grace. "And the newly formed Harrington Designs."
This time Colin couldn't mask his surprise. "Well. Congratulations, Grace."
Blood banged through her veins, thumping a noisy beat in her ears. She gave him an indifferent smile, totally at odds with the war of emotions raging inside her. "Thank you."
Her father had already begun to set up his slide show, and launched into his opening speech to present the proposed rebuilding of Edgewater.
Grace used every ounce of control to keep her focus on her father, and not give in to the temptation to stare at the men sitting across from her. Even when she felt them sizing her up.
Once, she glanced over and caught Cameron's navy-blue gaze aimed directly at her. His face was more sculpted than Colin's, but no less attractive. He wore a shield of seriousness, this oldest sibling. Suddenly, she found herself wondering how his mother's abandonment had affected him.
Think about work, she admonished herself, forcing her focus on her father's presentation. She recognized many of the designs, noting that H&H was recommending a precise replica of the old mansion. On the land where Pineapple House once stood, her father proposed a fountain with a simple pineapple sculpture, a "nod to the past" he said dismissively.
When he had finished, Adrian seemed unmoved. He merely asked Grace to begin.
She had decided not to look at Colin during her whole presentation, certain she'd lose her composure if she did. But when she described what she'd learned about the founders of Newport and the battle for restoration of the original structures, she couldn't resist a glance in his direction.
His expression nearly did her in. She recognized it, having reveled in it so many times during their brief interlude in Newport. His eyes were warm, brimming with affection and admiration.
I love you.
The words reverberated through her head, the way they had in the tunnel that rainy afternoon.
Why had he said that to her? Why had he given her such hope, and then left her without even giving her a chance to explain or talk to her father? She stumbled over a simple phrase and paused to get her thoughts.
Fighting a swell of panic, she coughed, took a drink of water and pressed on, managing to avoid eye contact with Colin for the rest of her presentation for the complete design and rebuilding of Pineapple House on the property where Edgewater had once stood.
When she'd finished, she put her boards in order and quietly walked to her seat. As Colin stood, she caught his gaze.
Leaning over the table, he whispered, "You were fantastic."
Time stood still as a weightless, heart-stopping sensation practically lifted her off the ground. "Thanks," she said with a tight smile, despising the miserable lump in her throat.
And then the three McGraths launched into the task of presenting their proposal and everything simply faded in the background. As Colin spoke, his rich baritone voice filled the room, captivating his small audience.
In faded jeans, a soft-blue shirt, his leather tie-back and earring, he looked more like a renegade rodeo rider than a highly regarded architect. Naturally, he shunned a computer slide show, presenting his ideas as gloriously old-fashioned artist's renderings, each one original and brilliant.
"I propose to divide the grounds of Edgewater into two separate parcels of land," he said, his eyes locked on Adrian as he made his pitch. "The largest parcel will be home to one of the most magnificent mansions ever built in America, a tribute to a bygone Victorian era that celebrated life and success and beauty on a grand scale: the new Edgewater."
The "new" Edgewater featured the mansion's original design, only slightly altered to include a curved roofline and graceful arched windows. The effect was stunning.
"But there will be so much more to Edgewater. First, Quinn will explain the division of the land."
For the next few minutes, Quinn McGrath spoke with the cool authority of someone who understood every nuance of his business, yet managed to infuse his comments with humor and warmth. He explained the loophole in the law that allowed the Edgewater property to be separated, and Adrian listened, rapt.
Colin resumed his pitch and changed the sketch to reveal the familiar elevation of Pineapple House.
"Miss Harrington has done an excellent job of providing the history and importance of this structure. But, instead of a residence, I propose a public building and fully staffed museum that will introduce visitors to the world that existed long before the Gilded Age of Newport. In this scenario, Adrian, you donate this land and building to the City of Newport, to be run by a team of restoration professionals, all descendants of an original group of historians and preservationists."
The Restoration Rebels would live again. A spray of goose-bumps blossomed over Grace's skin. What an incredible idea.
At this point, Cameron took over and explained a complicated financing plan that would allow Adrian to fund the entire project, but pay for it from the proceeds of the museum.
"For no financial outlay," Colin added, still looking at Adrian, "you will be recognized as a hero to all the lovers of history who flock to—and live in—the city of Newport."
The man was a genius. His designs were unparalleled, his plan was daring and yet risk-free, and Adrian Gilmore came away with his mansion and a reputation as the savior of the city.
By the time Colin had finished, there was no contest.
Her father's shoulders dropped in nonverbal defeat. Adrian had interrupted Colin twenty times, asking questions, probing for ideas, confirming his delight with the idea.
When the meeting ended, Grace packed her portfolio and planned a quick departure, but a strong hand settled over hers, stopping her. She looked up into deep, unwavering blue eyes.
"I enjoyed your presentation," Cameron said.
"Likewise," she answered. "Colin's plan is brilliant."
He glanced to where Colin stood in conversation with Adrian. "His plan is brilliant, but sometimes my little brother is a bit impulsive. Too honest and stubborn."
She regarded him closely, trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate. "He knows what he
wants," she said.
"But he doesn't always trust himself to get it."
She sensed the conversation between Colin and Adrian coming to an end, and, as much as she'd love to stand there and discuss the finer points of Colin McGrath, she had to get away. The tears she'd battled for the past four weeks were threatening to make an unscheduled appearance.
"It was nice meeting you," she said weakly, stuffing the last paper into her portfolio and darting out of the room.
She made it as far as the top of the marble staircase.
"What's the hurry?"
At the sound of Colin's voice, she attempted a bright smile. "I have another meeting." Did he really want to do this? Did he really want to make small talk—or worse, have their goodbye in the lobby of a hotel? "Congratulations, you nailed this one."
Searching her face, he opened his mouth to say something, but Diane came around the corner in a half run.
"Mr. McGrath, please don't leave. Mr. Gilmore would like to speak with you and your brothers."
Colin looked over his shoulder. "In a minute."
Grace nudged him lightly, somehow managing to keep her voice from cracking. "You'd better go. Your client wants you."
"You left H&H," he said.
She nodded. "Yep. I'm a free agent."
His jaw tightened, the way it always did when he was fighting the urge to say what he was thinking. "I just—I just had to tell you what a great job you did in there."
"Kind of tough to outshine your crew." She couldn't resist a wink. "That's some gene pool you're swimming in, Colin."
He shrugged. "On my father's side, anyway."
She took one step down the stairs, but paused at the note of pain she heard in his voice. Looking up at him, she reached her hand out to touch his arm. "You're a product of your past, Colin. Good, bad and ugly. What happened to you … well, it made you who you are. And who you are is…" Damn, there went her voice. "…really, really fine." And the tears started.
"Gracie, listen to me—"
"McGrath!" Adrian's voice boomed across the second floor of the Ritz Carlton. "I'm waiting."
THE FIRE STILL BURNS Page 15