by K. C. Wells
“It’s too late to do anything else.”
Vic leaned in. “See, now there’s where we disagree. Rob called me upstairs, sat me down with everyone, and discussed the project and its impact on the community. They asked me for my opinion, and after careful consideration, I told them what I thought needed to be done.”
“And that is?”
Vic grinned. “Call the papers. Get on television. Show people the cost of progress. Explain to them that it has a face. I’m willing to bet that they’re going to get more than a few down there to protest.”
Xavier’s jaw dropped. “You said what?” Oh, fuck. That was probably the worst thing anyone could do. “Tell me you didn’t.” Cold sweat popped out on his brow.
Vic waved a hand. “Relax. That would really drop you in the shit, and I think you’re in deep enough as it is.” He paused, his eyes bright. “Did you know that you can find out all kinds of information about the buildings the Church group has put up, just by going online?” He picked up the folder and handed it over to Xav. “Take a look at the numbers. They might surprise you.”
Xav took out a ream of papers and placed them on the bar top. He thumbed through them one by one, frowning. He’d mentioned investors to Church, but he hadn’t realized the scale of the problem. According to Vic’s research, many of the apartments had been purchased by foreign investors, and even though they were owned, most of them sat empty. Then he got to the part about the shops that had opened and how many of them had closed within the first six months because they lacked business. With every sheet he read, the pit in Xavier’s stomach yawned wider and wider.
“Where did you get these?”
“This is what you get when you have a group of subs who are determined not to lose the shop that helped them find the joy of reading. Or the young man who became their friend.”
It was a slap in the face, but one Xavier deserved. The boys had their heads on straighter than Xavier.
“And what am I supposed to do with this information?”
Vic cocked his head. “Think about it. What you’re doing is, at best, a short-term fix. In a few years, those high-end apartments will be worthless. They’re going to be sitting empty, just like most of the other places Church has built. Once the papers get hold of this information, they’re going to dig deeper and will probably uncover even more waste. And if Church is building these as a means to alleviating the housing shortage, well, I think we can both see that’s bullshit. These apartments will do nothing but eventually line the pockets of already rich men.”
If this was true, and Xavier had no reason to believe it wasn’t, then all these people were going to lose their homes and businesses for nothing. They’d raze Heath’s shop, and the rest of the properties, and whatever got built there would have none of their charm. There were already too many places going out of business in Soho.
“So what are you going to do about it, Xav? You have a chance here to at least try to do the right thing. Will you step up and take it?”
Xavier barely heard him. He was thinking about Soho. What it had become. What it had once been.
What it could be.
When the idea hit him, he couldn’t believe no one had thought of it before. Other cities had gone down that route, and Soho was bloody perfect for it. Excitement welled up inside him. This could work.
He grabbed Vic by the shoulders, then leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. “You, my friend, are a freaking genius.”
“Oy, hands off! That’s mine.” Rob stormed up and threw an arm over Vic’s shoulder, his icy glare enough to make Xavier rear back.
Xavier got off his stool and gave Vic an inquiring glance. “You redesign areas. If you could, what would you do around that neighborhood?”
Vic grinned. “You didn’t get to the last page of that folder, did you?”
Xavier leafed through the sheaf of papers until he found one neatly written sheet of notes. When he read them, he couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah. A freaking genius.” He shoved everything back into the folder. “I have to go. Rob, may I take these?”
“As long as that’s all you’re trying to take.” Rob’s stare was still cool.
Vic burst out laughing and pulled Rob into his arms. “Cheeky boy. I love you.”
Xav smiled at them, so obviously together and deeply in love. A twinge shot through Xav and his chest tightened at the thought of what he’d lost. He pushed it away. Now wasn’t the time to have a pity party. He had a job to do. Even if he and Heath were no longer together, Xavier owed it to Heath to fix this mess he’d created, and he sent up a silent promise to do just that.
BY THE time he entered the office the following morning, Xavier was still feeling tired. He chalked that up to very little sleep, and a lot of mental exertion, but this couldn’t wait until he was feeling refreshed.
When Bea looked up and gave him her usual sunny smile, Xavier knew what he required. “Bea, I need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.” He put his folder on the table, then plopped himself down on the chair in the corner of the reception area.
Bea chuckled and got up to get him a mug. She brought it over to him. “You look like you could use an intravenous drip of caffeine right now.”
Xavier snorted. Talk about hitting the nail on the head. He sipped the hot coffee. “Oh, you are a goddess. This place would run to the ground without you.”
“What are you doing here so early? It’s not even eight yet.”
He drank some more, then turned his attention to Bea. “I messed up. Badly.”
She regarded him in mild surprise. “Oh, come now. It can’t be all that dire.”
“You’d be surprised. I found out that the area Church wants to build in would take out a restaurant that’s been there for decades, a coffee shop that makes some of the best pastries ever, and the bookshop owned by the man I… love.”
Hell, now that he’d said the words aloud, Xavier was angry with himself that he’d never said them to Heath.
One thing at a time. Worry about getting this fixed, then focus on your relationship. If he still had one.
“Oh, Mr. James.” Bea reached out and patted his hand. “What are you going to do?”
He sat up a bit straighter. “I’m going to talk to Church and hit him with the one thing he can’t ignore. Figures.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Before Xavier could answer, the lift doors opened and Mr. Church stepped out. He frowned when he saw Xavier. “I need to know where we are on the project, Xavier. I got a report yesterday saying that not all of the property owners were contacted.”
“No, sir. They weren’t.” Xavier took a deep breath. “I need to speak with you, please.”
Church’s expression didn’t change. “My office, then. Beatrice, I need coffee.”
“Already on your desk, sir.”
He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Xavier grabbed the folder Vic had given him, followed Church into his office, then sat when Church gestured at the chair.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Church let out a sigh of exasperation. “I thought we were clear on this, but it seems not. Why aren’t we moving ahead on the project?”
“Because we’ve run into a snag, sir.”
Church’s gaze narrowed. “What kind of snag?”
Xavier expelled a breath. “The kind that is going to be bad for our business.”
Church stood and put his hands flat on the desk. “What are you nattering on about, Xavier?”
Xav opened the folder and pulled out the spreadsheet he’d spent the night creating. He handed it to Church, who scanned it.
“What is this?”
“These are the last four projects we’ve done, by the numbers. As you can see, while most of the apartments sold, they went to investors, usually based abroad, who don’t live in them….”
Church frowned. “What of it? We did our part. We put up the buildings. Why should we care if they’re not being used?”
“The media? Why would this be of interest to the media?” Church’s eyes bulged.
“They’re talking about empty expensive apartments not helping the housing problem. They’re focusing on the cost not in terms of housing, but of lives that have been disrupted. We’ve bought houses, businesses, and the like, and torn them down. We never bothered to look at the history of the place or the lives of the people that have been impacted.”
“Because it’s not important.” Church huffed and sat down again. “Where is this coming from?”
Xavier had a decision to make here and now. It was time to stand straight and speak for not only Heath, but the people who he cared for. The same thing Xavier should have been doing from the beginning, instead of hoping that things would work out.
“My boyfriend owns a bookshop in the area. He loves his place and, if I’m honest, so do I.”
Church gaped at him. “You’re coming up with all this because it’s going to hurt your boyfriend? Are you fucking serious?”
“Sir, you need to hear me out, okay? I promise, it will all make sense.” Xavier took a breath. “You absolutely have the legal right to tear these places down. No one will deny that. But once the media hears that we’re buying out not buildings but people, I believe it’s going to be a public-relations black eye for us.”
Church didn’t say anything, which was no bad thing. He picked up the stack of papers, much like Xavier had, and thumbed through them. When he was done, he dropped the whole thing back onto his desk with a resounding thud. “I’m going to guess you have a suggestion.”
“I do, sir. May I use your computer?”
Church slid back and waved a hand toward the desktop. “Go ahead.”
Xavier hurried to type in the URL that he’d been working on the previous night. When the file came up, he blew out a breath. “This is the current layout of the area. I propose that what we do is rebuild the area, not tear it down.” He pulled up the pictures Rob had put together. “This is what Soho was like. London’s red-light district. Seedy. Not a place you’d want to live, right?” He clicked onto the next photos. “This is Soho now. Bars shutting down, businesses closing.” He smiled. “But you should see it during Pride Week. You can’t move down there. We’re talking a sea of rainbow flags.”
“I still don’t see where you’re going with this.”
Xavier clicked on the next set of photos he’d found the previous night. “This is Manchester in the mid-1980s. To be exact, this is Canal Street. A couple of gay bars and a gay pub near the coach station. All the businesses had long gone. Empty mills and properties.” He clicked again. “And this is Canal Street today.”
Church stared at the photos of the bustling center of LGBT Manchester. “That’s quite a transformation.”
Xavier nodded. “And where Manchester has gone, we can follow. What I’m proposing is twofold. Firstly, instead of tearing down, we redesign what already exists. Pedestrianize the area, for one thing. Take the shell of the buildings and redesign the interiors to offer affordable housing. Then provide space for businesses that are actually needed. No high-end designer clothes shops or art galleries. We’re talking coffee shops, restaurants, dry cleaners, a supermarket—and yes, an LGBT-friendly bookshop.”
Church leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin and gazing at the photos. “Keep talking.”
“That brings me to my second proposal. An outreach to the LGBT community would help draw business, including ones that cater to all. It would be a public-relations boon for us and would help mitigate the outrage that I’m fairly certain would erupt if these facts and figures got into the public purview. At least this way, we’d be able to say that our company was invested in moving to the future, while maintaining links to the past. And those two streets would only be the start. We could create an LGBT hub in the heart of London. There are cities all around the world that have such places, so why not us? Yes, you’d still have the gay bars and clubs, but you’d have other businesses, too, all set in an attractive, pedestrianized area that feels safe.”
Church shrugged. “This isn’t a bad design, Xavier. But we’ve already started, and I don’t know that we can shift gears so quickly.”
Fortunately, Xavier had thought of that too. “It’s true that some people have already accepted the offers, but there are more than a few businesses in the area that have resisted efforts to buy them out. I think we could approach these people, let them know that we’ve decided to go in another direction, and ask them to invest in their own future by banding together and taking over the project once our part is completed.”
“I don’t know….” Church stared at the computer screen. “We would be losing a lot of money.”
“Not really. We’ve already allocated the funds, so we would really only be shifting them to other uses. The goodwill effort alone will garner us positive media attention. We could use this to show people that the company has a heart and cares about the community it’s part of. For the modest payout, we’ll get buzz that could net us ten times as much. Our new openings have stopped being media-worthy, but this? They’d be all over it.” Xavier decided to close in for the kill. “It’s that, or we’re going to be fighting this in the courts, and even when we win, we’ll lose in the public square.”
When Church said nothing but continued staring at the screen, Xavier pressed on.
“Revitalizing the area will work because it’s a good neighborhood, with a strong community. They lack the ability to do what we can. We could work with them to create something bold and innovative. It could open a whole new market for us, as other areas look for the same treatment.”
Okay. He was done. It was up to Church now. If he refused, Xavier wasn’t sure what he would do. That’s a lie. You decided that already—you’re just afraid to admit it out loud.
He sighed. If Church refused, Xavier would honor the silent promise he made to Heath and find a way to stop it, even if that meant taking the whole mess to the media. Even if Heath no longer wanted to see Xavier, he needed to see that Xavier was trying to put things right. Okay, so it had taken longer than it should have for Xavier to get his act together, but he’d done it.
Church cleared his throat. “Your timing is good, I’ll give you that.” When Xavier gave him a puzzled glance, Church smiled. “The project managers’ meeting is this morning. So I’ll want you to present this in about three hours’ time. Pitch it to them and see what they have to say. If they’re in, then we can do some more research.” He coughed. “I have to say, this is quite a bold proposal. Certainly not something I would have considered, but you’ve laid it out beautifully, and you’ve obviously put a great deal of thought into this.”
Xav heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Mr. Church.”
He let out a wry chuckle. “Don’t thank me yet. If you manage to convince the project managers, then you’ll be presenting it to the board.”
The board? “Sir?”
“Everyone has to be in agreement, Xavier. My name might be on the letterhead, but I have people I need to satisfy too.” Church grinned. “Not getting cold feet, are you? This is your baby, after all. But I like what you’ve done here, and the idea is sound.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, I don’t normally discuss my private life, but my son, Harry, is gay. He went through hell when he was in school, and me and my wife never knew about it. We didn’t find out until he tried to….” Church swallowed hard. “Anyway, he told us he was afraid to speak to us because I’d made some pretty awful remarks in the past about LGBT people. When I looked at him lying in that hospital bed, I realized the whole mess was my fault. I’d done that to him, and who knew how many others. It was quite a wake-up call, let me assure you. I changed my whole life
around, and I tried to become a father that my gay son would be proud of.” He pointed to the monitor. “This proposal of yours? It would help a lot of people, of that I have no doubt. I know Harry will love the idea.”
He gave Xav an almost wistful smile, then relaxed into his chair.
“I’m going to back you on this, so I think everyone else will see it’s for the best.” Then he pinned Xav with a hard stare. “You’re going to be spearheading this project. It’s going to be up to you to make it work. Do you think you can handle it?”
Did he? Hell yes, he could. “Yes, Mr. Church.”
“Good, then get to work.” Church tapped the face of his watch. “Three hours, remember? I want everything looking sharp. Get Bea to help you.”
“Yes, sir.” Xavier picked up his folder and headed for the door.
“Oh, Xavier?”
He turned. “Yes, Mr. Church?”
“This is good work. I’m proud of you.”
The praise should have meant something to Xavier, but it didn’t. The only person whose praise mattered might not be willing to listen when Xavier told him that his shop was saved.
Not that Xavier could blame him. He’d put his own wants and desires ahead of Heath’s, and you didn’t do that to someone you cared about. Xavier just hoped that Heath would give him the chance to make things right.
Chapter Twenty-Four
WHAT THE hell is taking them so long?
It had been two weeks since Xavier had presented his proposal, as succinctly as he could, and though Mr. Church had said he would back him, it seemed to Xavier it was taking forever. Every morning he’d come into work and every evening he’d go home, each time without an answer. Oh, he knew they were still deliberating. He’d been called in at least a dozen times to clarify something that one board member said he didn’t remember.