“I agree,” Don said, flipping through the packet. I blinked, shocked. Matteo might be my friend… but Ol’ Grump Don certainly was not.
“I’ll miss the mill,” Pam said. “But the healthcare outreach clinic was the necessary addition to our town. The events center was nice, but an added perk, not a necessity.”
“And,” I added. “If a larger property becomes available within our price range, we can always consider going forward with the original plan with the events center.”
“Good job, everyone,” Dad said. “Any other points of business to discuss?”
I shook my head no, as did everyone else as they stood and shuffled out of the conference room. Laura slid inside the room against the stream of everyone leaving and handed me a manila envelope. “This arrived a few minutes ago for you by a messenger,” she said.
I glanced at the large envelope. Huh. No return address. Just my name and office address on the front. “Thanks,” I said, and as I slid my finger between the folds to tear it open, Matteo came up, grinning.
“Nice save,” he whispered.
I widened my eyes and blew out a deep breath. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
He shrugged. “That’s what friends are for.” Then he tapped my arm. “Congrats on closing on your house today. You did that fast!”
I smiled with a long sigh and reached my hand into my pocket where my bright, shiny new house key was nestled against my body. “Thank you. It is long overdue that I move out of my parents’ house and actually have a place that’s mine.” Totally mine. Not a home that belongs to a boyfriend. I am tired of having to move out every time a relationship ends.
My stomach pinched at the thought… I truly didn’t think I’d be in this situation again. I thought Neil was it for me. I also thought we were on the same page and that he had understood what I meant by taking it slowly.
“If you need help unpacking this weekend, Gina and I can come by.” He wiggled his brows. “We’ll bring champagne.”
“Perfect,” I laughed. “It even has a guest house that you two can crash in if you can’t safely drive home.”
He laughed. “Don’t be offering that to too many of your friends. You’ll be throwing away some really nice extra income if you don’t rent it out.”
“Elaina.” My dad’s voice boomed even though he was far from yelling. That’s just how he sounded… always. Authoritative. Loud. Even when he wasn’t shouting. “Stay here a moment. I’d like a word.”
Matteo gave me a look and squeezed my arm before leaving, shutting the door behind him.
“What’s up, Dad?”
My father jerked back, eyes wide and surprised. “You called me Dad… at work.”
Huh. “I… did. Oops.”
“Not that I mind… Lovebug.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “I guess I had that coming.”
Dad shrugged and gave me a little smile that quickly vanished. He paused, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “About today’s meeting—”
I sighed heavily and pressed my fingers to my temple. “I know,” I interrupted. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t more prepared. It won’t happen again.”
Dad chuckled—but it was anything but joyous. “I’m not worried about that. You’re so on the ball, I wonder if you should have become a professional juggler instead of town manager.” He paused and tucked his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “But I am worried about you.” He blinked and, with his free hand, swept his fingers through his graying hair.
“Oh, Dad, I’m fine. I’ve just been staying over at Chloe’s to help her smooth the transition with Dan leaving.”
I didn’t add the fact that Liam was over almost every night hanging out, too… even though she swore up and down they were just friends. “And the house purchase? It was a long time coming. Though I’ll miss having Mom’s cooking each night.”
Dad laughed and shook his head. “You and I are very alike. Unlike Chloe, who is the spitting image of your mother—both in whimsical personality and looks. But I know you so well… because I know myself. And I think we both have a tendency to keep the people we love at arm’s length when we’re afraid.”
My dad didn’t get involved in our personal lives very often, but when he did, he almost always had a good reason for it. I swallowed and squared my shoulders. “Remember when I first wanted to tell Chloe that I didn’t like Dan?”
Dad chuckled. “Ah yes, the mashed potato fiasco of 2018.”
“Who needs two types of mashed potatoes on a table?” I held out my palms, feeling the rage boiling all over again as though it happened yesterday—Mom had made her usual twice baked mashed potatoes, but because Dan was coming, Chloe had insisted that we needed to also have his mother’s bacon and sour cream mashed potatoes on the table, too. Okay, granted, mashed potatoes were heaven-sent, and we did eat them all within that weekend, but still. “I wanted to go up to Chloe and Dan and tell him to get off his ass and make his own family recipe if he wanted it that badly… but instead, he stayed in the living room watching football all day. And what did you say to me?”
Dad’s smile twitched but didn’t quite crinkle his eyes. “I said that unsolicited advice is more about the needs of the giver than the receiver.”
“That’s right,” I said.
Dad cleared his throat. “Most of the time, that’s true. However, right now with this advice I’m doling out… one of us here is happily married. And the other has been crying in her office every day.”
My chest went hollow at his words. How did he know that? I waited until everyone was gone… I should know because I’d been staying late, working past sundown literally every day since the show ended. Not a soul had been in this office with me at eight o’clock last night.
“Dad…” my voice cracked, and I shook my head.
“Don’t you ‘Dad’ me,” he said gently. “I’ll admit that I didn’t like Dan much, either. But do you remember the other side of that mashed potato fiasco? Because I do. I remember you making three pies that year… sugar-free pumpkin for me. Apple for you, your mom, and Chloe. And…”
I swallowed thickly. “Pecan for Brad.”
Dad nodded. “Brad was the only one in that whole house who wanted pecan pie. I couldn’t eat it with my diabetes. You, your mom, and your sister all liked apple. And Dan didn’t eat any sweets—being a dentist and all.”
That Thanksgiving came crashing back on me, and my breath surged from my lungs. “I thought he was going to propose,” I whispered. “Brad… I thought for sure he was going to ask me to marry him that day. He made such a point of wanting the holiday to be perfect. He told me to buy a new outfit. I saw a receipt in his pocket from Tiffany’s.”
Little did I know at the time, that receipt was for a gift for his girlfriend. His other girlfriend… the one who wasn’t me. The one who received the good gifts in little blue boxes while I got a vacuum as my Christmas present that year.
“That’s right,” Dad whispered. “I understand wanting to take things slowly with Neil, Lovebug. Your mother and I dated for years before we got married. So, if you truly said no to Neil because you’re not ready, then you made the right choice. But maybe…”
“Maybe I’m terrified,” I whispered.
“You have a right to be. Your boyfriend of nine years strung you along. Cheated on you. Broke up with you at Christmas… and blamed you for his infidelity by claiming you were a workaholic.”
I bit down on my bottom lip to stop the quivering. “But if I’m scared, then I’m also not ready for an engagement. You don’t go into an engagement being terrified.”
Dad nodded once. “That’s true. But don’t let him slip away because of it either. Tell him how scared you are. Tell him why you’re scared. Chances are, Neil’s probably hurt, too.”
Dad’s words pierced my heart, and I gulped back the tears.
“You have weeks of unused vacation days, Elaina… why don’t you use a couple. Get settled in your new house.
Maybe take a trip to… I don’t know… Boston?”
My new house… alone. It was the right decision, buying that place, but it didn’t change the fact that it felt so empty in there with no one to share it with. I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m so tired of crying,” I said, honestly. “I feel like I’ve been crying for two weeks straight.”
“From my perspective… you’ve been trying not to cry for two weeks straight. Maybe if you really let yourself, you’ll feel better.” Dad opened his arms, and I wasted no time, falling into his hug, sobbing. It didn’t matter how old you got—sometimes, you just needed a hug from your Dad to make things right in the world again.
My tears subsided, and my dad released his hold on me. Though he was smiling, concern tilted his bright blue eyes. “A little better?”
I nodded as Dad glanced at the envelope in my hands. “What’s that?” he asked.
I sniffed. “I dunno. Probably just another zoning proposal from someone in town.”
Dad walked to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a small, white, cardboard box, crossing back to me. With one hand held out, he asked, “How about I trade you? I’ll handle whatever that proposal is, and you enjoy this treat for me. I saw this in the window of Beefcakes this morning and bought it. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”
I handed him the envelope and opened the cardboard box, grinning through my sadness.
Dad chuckled. “He calls it the Loca Lainey cupcake… and it’s made with a yogurt base and an—”
“Almond buttercream,” I whispered. I could smell the strong scent of almond wafting toward me. I dipped my finger into the frosting for a taste and moaned as it hit my tongue. It was heavenly.
“There’s no problem a cupcake can’t fix,” I whispered, reciting one of Neil’s many catchphrases.
Dad was right. I was the one who declined the proposal—so, I had to be the one to convince Neil that we weren’t over yet. I let him leave town once without saying goodbye. I couldn’t let that happen again.
About ten miles outside of Boston, I sat in Hardin Montgomery’s office.
Mom was recuperating beautifully—those were the doctor’s words, not mine—and she’d be released from the hospital tomorrow. Unfortunately, my flight was taking off for Budapest first thing in the morning, so I wouldn’t be there to help her get home safely and comfortably. She assured me she would be fine and that Liam, Finn, and Addy could get her set up at home without me.
To be fair, they had lived nearly a decade without my help. Mom was right… they would be fine. At least temporarily. Because I was never leaving again—not permanently, at least.
Hardin’s office was as pretentious as he was. White marble adorned almost every surface. Even this damn chair seemed to be made out of marble, if my ass was any judge.
Then again, Hardin Montgomery didn’t strike me as the kind of man who cared about the comfort of anyone but himself, especially judging by the plush white leather office chair that was empty behind his desk.
The door opened with such force that it nearly slammed into the wall behind it. As Hardin stalked into the room, I stood, offering him my hand.
“Mr… Evans,” he said, looking down at a folder in his hands. His brows were creased as he glanced up at me, not bothering to hide his confusion about who I was. “I don’t recall… I’m sorry, what is this meeting regarding?”
I took a deep breath. It was a wonder I convinced his secretary to let me in at all. It’s amazing what a beaming smile, a flexing bicep, and a cupcake will get you these days. After a quick selfie, she let me wait inside his office, telling me he had a fifteen-minute window before his next meeting.
“I’m here about the mill in Maple Grove you bought last week.”
Hardin’s gaze jerked to mine, and his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. I remember you now. You’re that guy from the show… Elaina Dyker’s boyfriend.” While most people probably would have been mad about a sneak attack meeting, Hardin wasn’t most men. Instead, an arrogant smile splayed on his too-thin lips, and he carelessly tossed the folder onto his desk as he took his seat. “Well? If you’ve come to buy the building from me, it’s going to be double what I bought it for.” His smile curved higher as he clasped his hands, waiting.
I smiled back. Ignoring the coiling knot in my gut. Man, I hated this guy. But right now? I needed him. And Lainey did, too.
“Let’s not pretend that you would actually sell that building to me,” I said. “Because we both know you’re only dangling that carrot to watch me reach for it, only before you tug it out of reach.”
Hardin laughed, and it was a surprisingly genuine sound. “You’re smarter than you look.”
“That’s better than looking smarter than you are, I suppose.” I cleared my throat and leaned forward, sliding the papers I had printed out at the hospital over to him. “I’m going to cut to the chase. You’re a busy man, and I don’t see any reason to sit here and pretend we like each other.”
His brows twitched at that, but he didn’t interrupt me. Nor did he reach for the papers I handed him. Instead, he steepled his fingers in front of his face and leaned his elbows on the desk, eyes not leaving mine. “I think you should donate the mill to the city,” I said.
Hardin was silent for a moment before he barked a laugh. Which was precisely the reaction I had expected. “Why should I do that?”
“Because the tax write-off will be substantial.” I nudged the paperwork closer toward him, and this time, his eyes shifted downward before he lifted them to examine the numbers I had printed out. “Charitable donations are one of the largest returns at the end of the fiscal year. Unless of course you plan on having children.”
“Not any time soon,” he said, carefully, eyes flicking back to me from over the paperwork. “And while you are correct, charitable donations are a big tax write off… it will not be larger than the projected income of this shopping center.”
Yep. He was saying exactly what I had hoped he would. I reached into the folder and grabbed the next printout, sliding it across to him. “That’s true,” I said. “However, the same seller you bought the mill from also owns this plot of land. It is wildly inexpensive, especially compared to the mill, and it would be cheaper to create a new construction for your shopping center than it would be to renovate an old mill. Plus, you wouldn’t have to worry about getting it zoned for commercial use—that’s already been handled—and those pesky historic guidelines Maple Grove has slapped onto the mill won’t be an issue. Plus, with the tax savings generated from the charitable contribution… you could pay for this land and the initial development costs.”
Hardin made a small huh sound and clicked his tongue, deep in thought. “Not to mention, the location off of the highway would be better for business all around. You would not only get all the vacationers driving into their rental homes on the lake, but you would get commuters or travelers who were on the road to somewhere else. Those who live in Manchester and Concord might even come out this way if what you have here is enticing enough.”
“Well,” Hardin said, flipping through the papers. “I’ll admit, you make a compelling argument. And the guy I bought the mill from is willing to sell me his land out by the highway?”
“He is,” I said. “Mr. Levy’s home is on the site, and he had been planning to put it up for sale after he and his wife were able to purchase a new condo with the proceeds from the mill – they’re closing on their new condo next month. I spoke to Mr. Levy about this opportunity to get a jump on his plans and let him know you’d be calling soon with an offer.”
Hardin fell back in his chair. “You were so sure I’d go for this?”
I shrugged, and even though my heart was pounding a mile a minute in my chest, I looked as calm and collected as he did. Finally, all those acting classes were paying off. “You’re a shrewd businessman. And this is a smart plan. I knew you’d see it for what it was. Besides, in this area, fo
r your shopping center to survive? You’re going to need the support of Maple Grove locals and business owners. Donating the mill and saving this healthcare outreach clinic will go a long way in reviving that goodwill within the town limits.”
Hardin smiled… a real smile. And he laughed. I nearly fell out of my seat, it was so unexpected. Standing, he outstretched his hand toward me. “Provided I can get the land from Mr. Levy at a reasonable price, we have a deal, Mr. Evans.” I clasped his hand in mine, not quite trusting him just yet. “I’ll get the process started once I talk to Mr. Levy and send a messenger with the declaration of intent to Ms. Dyker.”
I grinned and pumped his hand. “You’re not going to regret this.”
He rolled his eyes. “We’ll see. Something tells me you and all the other local Maple Grove businesses will benefit more than me.”
I shook my head. It was true that we all would benefit, but the truth was that he would benefit the most. A downtown shopping center would always be met with opposition from locals. But a large, corporate shopping center along the highway into the vacationland that is our Lakes Region? The local business owners would not only be fine with that, but it would help us in the long run. “I will personally refer clients to shop at your center for items they can’t get at our local stores. This will be a symbiotic relationship rather than one wrought with tension, which would be the case if you infiltrated the mill. You’ve got to trust me on this.”
Impossibly, Hardin’s gaze narrowed even more at me. “I don’t trust anyone. Especially when it comes to business deals.”
“If you’re going to make it in Maple Grove, you’re going to have to lower your guard.”
I wasn’t going to be able to convince him today, that was for sure. But he’d see for himself soon enough.
“I’ll send a messenger over with the proposal to Ms. Dyker right away.”
As I left his office, I smiled for the first time in weeks. At least now, on my way out of town, I was leaving it better than before. It was a gift not only to Elaina, but to all of Maple Grove.
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