He said, “Don’t use my job as an excuse to stay away from me. If you have a problem with me or something I’ve done, I would hope you try and talk to me about it before you reach a decision.”
“Talking about it won’t change anything. You are who you are.”
You are who you are.
It was personal.
“I see,” he managed. “And your mind is made up?”
She nodded and turned to leave.
“Cassie,” said Hunter, stopping her. But what could he say? How could he stop her from walking out the door when she was right? He did not deserve her. He never had.
He held up the papers on his desk. “Your contract.”
She walked back toward him. As he handed her the contract, their hands touched. Hunter was once again overcome by the desire to say something, anything to change her mind. But what?
Instead she spoke. “I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”
He let go of her hand. “Good luck, Cassie,” he said.
That was it. It was over. It would have happened sooner or later, wouldn’t it? So, better to get it out of the way. Better not to wait. She was right, he told himself.
When she glanced up at him, he could see her eyes were filled with tears. She reached around her neck and unclasped the necklace.
“I want you to have this,” she said, offering it to him.
“No,” he said. “I can’t accept that.”
“It’s not worth anything but it means a lot to me.” She put the necklace on the desk. She shook her head and turned away. “I will never forget you,” she said softly.
Fifteen
Cassie stood behind her loom as the last of the workers left.
She was alone.
It was getting late and she knew that she should leave, as well. But she was not looking forward to returning home, back to the same place where, just that morning, she and Hunter had made love. She knew the minute she walked in the door she would be overcome by all the emotion she had struggled to hold at bay.
She closed her eyes. Once again she asked herself the question that had haunted her all day: Had she done the right thing?
Or had she just made the biggest mistake of her life?
She knew without a doubt she had passed up the chance of a lifetime. Hunter was unlike any man she had ever met before, any man she would ever meet again.
When she closed her eyes, she could still feel his touch. He had made her feel special. Desired.
She walked to the window and looked up at the stars. Hunter was miles away by now, his plane heading toward France. Did he regret the end of their relationship? Or was he looking forward to a new beginning?
She would never know. She doubted she would ever speak to Hunter again.
Hunter had been sitting in the airport for nearly two hours. Normally he would have been agitated, eager to get to his next destination.
But not tonight. In fact, he welcomed the delay. He was in no rush to leave Shanville.
To leave Cassie.
It had been hours since he last saw her, but it already felt like a lifetime. He had racked his brain trying to think of a solution. According to Cassie, however, the only solution would be for him to give up his company, to devote himself toward a more humanitarian profession.
He pulled out her necklace once again. It’s not worth much…
How could she say that? It had been her mother’s necklace. Cassie wore it every day. He knew how much it meant to her.
He had not felt right accepting such a gift.
He knew he would eventually return it to Cassie. But not yet. He could not bear to part with the only reminder he had of her.
“I just spoke to Jack,” Willa said. “We should be leaving momentarily.” She sat down next to Hunter and said, “I can’t say I’m sorry to be leaving. The sooner I forget about Oliver the better.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you two.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not. I guess you could say he lost his appeal.”
“Coincidentally at the same time he lost his job.”
She smiled. “Oh, well. Win some, lose some.”
“You know,” he said, “you haven’t asked where Cassie is.”
“Oh, Cassie. That’s right. She was supposed to join you, wasn’t she?”
Hunter looked at her, his eyes narrowing. He had suspected that Willa might have had something to do with Cassie’s sudden change of heart. Her reaction just confirmed his suspicions.
“Oh, dear,” Willa said. She sighed sympathetically. “Are you two having some problems?”
“You might say so,” he said calmly.
“Well,” she said, shrugging, “it’s probably better this way. Cassie belongs here with her own kind.”
His face paled with anger. “Own kind?”
Oblivious to his reaction, she smiled again. “You know what I mean. Her own class of people.”
“I see,” Hunter said, his voice heavy with contempt.
Willa checked her watch. “It’s time for me to leave,” she said, brushing off her skirt, “perhaps we should go.”
“What did you say to her?” His voice was quiet, his tone cold and lashing.
“What?”
“What did you say to Cassie?”
Willa crossed her arms in front of her. “Nothing I wouldn’t say to you—respectfully, of course.”
“Like?”
“What does it matter?” She shook her head. “I think it was honorable of you to give her the mill, I really do. However, that said, what are you going to have to do to continue to please her? Every time she raises an objection about some poor people being displaced, what will you do? I mean, let’s face it, you’re not exactly a philanthropist.”
No. No, he wasn’t. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be.
Suddenly he thought about the expressions on the workers’ faces when he informed them he would be shutting down their plant. That the only job they had ever known would be gone forever. Sure there were instances when they welcomed the change, but more times than not there were tears, devastation, even hopelessness. He had done his best to ignore it, to push it out of his mind. He had told himself over and over again that he was actually doing them a favor, but who was he kidding?
He thought about his own father. He had grown up hearing stories about how his father had lost his job. Had his father been grateful to the man who had bought the company where he had worked? Hardly. He had lost the only life he had ever known.
How had this happened? Hunter looked down at his hands. When did he turn into one of the very people he’d grown up hating?
“We are who we are, Hunter. And I happen to think you’re pretty terrific.” Willa put her arm in his. “Shall we go?”
He was repulsed by Willa’s touch. He suddenly saw her for who she was: a mean, vindictive, small-minded woman. He shook off her arm and asked her, “What do you think their chances are?”
“Their?”
“Cassie and the rest of the people trying to turn the mill around.”
“The marketing team will help, that’s for certain. But quite frankly, I think it’s still a waste of your money. After all, they’re going to have to price themselves out of the market. The wages they pay their workers are so high they’ll never be able to make a product that people can actually afford. I don’t care how good it is.” She shook her head. “They were fools, each and every one of them. And they’re about to pay the price.”
Once again Hunter felt inside his pocket, desperately clutching the necklace that Cassie gave him.
Suddenly he had an idea. What if he were to provide financial backing until Demion Mills began turning a profit? What if, he thought, his pulse racing, he offered that service to other companies, as well?
Suddenly he felt as if the clouds had cleared. He saw his future as it could be. Instead of buying out the companies struggling for survival, he could use his expertise to turn their
fortunes around.
But it would require a huge commitment. It would require walking away from the company he had built from scratch.
Only one thing was clear.
Nothing seemed to matter anymore but Cassie.
He stood. He took his briefcase and started toward the door.
“Hunter,” Willa said. “Where are you going? The tarmac is that way.”
He walked back toward Willa and stopped. “Do you think the severance package that we offered the Demion Mill workers was fair?”
“Yes, of course. I drew it up myself.”
“Good. That’s exactly what you’ll receive. I’ll direct the office to cut you a check. In the meantime, the plane will be happy to take you wherever you might want to go.”
Willa stepped away, stunned. “You’re firing me?”
“Just like you told the workers at Demion Mills: ‘Don’t view this as a negative. View it as a chance to start over.’” He nodded. “Goodbye, Willa.”
Sixteen
Cassie closed her eyes and took her fingers off the loom, taking a momentary break. It was nearly midnight. Despite her fatigue, she had been unable to bring herself to leave the mill.
“Cassie?”
She opened her eyes. Hunter was standing in the doorway.
Cassie just stared, too astonished to speak.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked.
He looked exhausted. He was still wearing his suit, but his tie was loose, his rumpled shirt open at the neck. His hair was tousled, and he had circles under his eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you went to France.”
“I’m not going.”
“What…why?”
He walked toward her. “You were right this afternoon. I am what I am. And my job is such that it doesn’t allow for a lot of philanthropy.”
“I’m sorry I said that.”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t come here for apologies.” He swallowed. “At least, not from you. I wanted to explain to you that my company is not what I had originally intended. I’ve always liked a challenge. I was attracted to the idea that I could go into businesses that were struggling and fix them. At least, that’s what I told myself I was doing. I liked the idea of turning a business around—textiles, steel, wine, it didn’t matter. I tried to ignore the fact that people were losing their jobs, that whole economies were ruined. I told myself that the businesses were struggling and if I didn’t take them over, those people would lose their jobs anyway.”
“That’s probably true.”
“But that doesn’t make what I do right. And it doesn’t excuse what I did, either.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I think it’s time for a career change.”
“A career change?”
“Instead of specializing in takeovers, I’m thinking that perhaps I should reconsider. Turn my energy toward helping those struggling companies survive.”
Was she hearing him correctly? “Just like you’re helping Demion Mills?”
“That’s right.”
He stopped at the loom. He ran his fingers over the threads she had just woven.
“That’s what you came back to tell me?” she asked quietly.
He took another step toward her. He was standing so close their lips were practically touching. “That’s not all,” he said. His eyes blazed and glowed as he took her hands in his. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He had fallen in love.
He loved her.
Cassie closed her eyes as the shock of his words hit her full force.
“If you give me a chance, I’m willing to try and be a better man.”
She was certain she was dreaming. She had fallen asleep at her loom and would wake up alone in a cold, dark, empty room.
“Give me an opportunity to prove that I’m worthy of your love.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him, unable to speak. He let go of her hands and pulled her necklace out of his pocket.
His fingers brushed her nape as he fastened it around her neck.
“Do I have a chance?” he whispered in her ear.
She twisted around to face him. She once again remembered what her grandmother said. Actions Speak Louder Than Words.
And with that, she kissed him.
Epilogue
It was the opening of the Shanville Gallery, a nonprofit center that featured the work of local artists. And from the crowd that had gathered in the small, renovated building in the center of town, it was a success.
Thanks to her husband’s connections, the gathering included local and not-so-local stars. The governor of New York was there along with various politicians and personalities. All had turned out to show their support for Shanville, which was becoming known as a mecca for the arts.
But like Shanville itself, there was no pretension here. All the invitees were dressed casually, supping on a buffet that included dishes the local diner was famous for: meat loaf and macaroni and cheese.
Cassie spotted her husband across the room. They had been married for three years, but the sight of him still caused her heart to skip a beat. He stood in the doorway, a grin spreading across his lips as their eyes met.
Their wedding had been a fairy-tale ending to a not-so-traditional courtship—an affair that she felt certain would have restored her grandmother’s pride and her belief in the power of sex.
Afterward, Hunter moved into Cassie’s home, and together he and his new bride launched a foundation specifically designed to help family businesses in need.
In the three years that had passed since their wedding, Hunter had become a vital part of Shanville and Demion Mills. He seemed to have no problem leaving his corporate image and expensive toys behind, easily adapting to the down-to-earth lifestyle of small-town living.
It was a change, he claimed, that he had been anticipating a long time. All he needed was the right woman to make it all come true.
They walked toward each other, drawn together like magnets. He took her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. “I’m so proud of you,” he said.
“Why?”
“You worked hard for this opening.”
“We,” she said. “We worked hard.”
For the past few months Cassie and Hunter had met at the gallery after work, doing much of the refurbishing themselves. Hunter had long ago proven himself surprisingly adept with a hammer and nails. Some of Cassie’s friends had been amazed that a man worth millions was willing to perform physical labor. But not Cassie. Hunter enjoyed working with his hands. He had become an excellent craftsman, capable of replicating the intricate wood carvings that were found on so many old homes.
“Cassie?”
Cassie turned. Her old friend Luanne was there behind her. “You have some visitors.” She pointed to the door.
Willa and Oliver stood side by side.
“What are they doing here?” Ruby whispered, hurrying over.
But Cassie was not surprised to see them. After all, they had been invited.
Soon after she and Hunter married, Hunter had encouraged her to renew her friendship with Oliver. He had been her oldest and dearest friend, Hunter had argued. It was a relationship worth preserving. She took her husband’s advice and she and Oliver redefined their relationship as two old friends. Oliver soon confided that he had never recovered from the demise of his relationship with Willa. Cassie counseled him to reconcile, and one morning Oliver announced that not only had he and Willa reconciled, they had married.
Unfortunately for Oliver, however, it soon became clear that being the mistress of the “Demion estate” did not seem to satisfy Willa. Opinionated and haughty, Willa was every bit as abrasive as she had been at the mill. Still, Willa had become such a colorful personality in Shanville that it was hard to imagine the town without her. But most of the town residents were still cool to her, never having forgiven her for her previous offenses.
&n
bsp; They seemed to delight in knocking Willa off her throne. And this, apparently, was another one of those times.
Cassie shook her head. Both Willa and Oliver were dressed in formal attire, as if attending a ball. Willa looked resplendent in a draping red dress. Oliver was wearing a white tuxedo.
Cassie saw Willa’s eyes open wide in horror as she looked at the casually dressed guests. She gave Oliver a nasty look and swatted him across the stomach.
Cassie heard Luanne snicker. She looked at her friend suspiciously. “Luanne, is there a reason they might have thought this event was formal?”
Luanne shrugged and averted her gaze. “Maybe.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. Hunter tried to hide his smile by pretending to cough.
She and Hunter went over to welcome their guests. Afterward, as they watched Willa and Oliver head toward the buffet, Hunter said, “You really are amazing. Only you could’ve made them feel so comfortable. That was very gracious of you.”
She smiled and said, “I have every reason to be gracious. After all, as of today, all my wishes have come true.”
He glanced at her. “Revenge on Willa?”
“No,” she said, laughing.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Saving Demion Mills was wish number one….”
“No,” she said. “You were number one. Demion Mills was number two.”
“And the art gallery was number three?”
“I wanted the gallery, but it wasn’t a wish.”
“Willa and Oliver come dressed to serve?”
She laughed and said, “Nope.”
“You’ve been promoted to master weaver?”
“Not yet,” she said.
Suddenly his eyes opened wide as she touched her stomach. He smiled.
Wish number three. They were soon to be family.
With a holler, Hunter picked her up and spun her around.
“But,” she said, “I do have a single demand.”
“Anything,” he said. “As you know I’ve never been able to resist you.”
“Just love me.”
“That’s a request I’ll never deny,” he said, settling the deal with a kiss.
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