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I slid my hands up his arms and draped them around his neck, nodding. “That sounds nice.”
“Everything will work out with the Monticello,” he said, and this time, he sounded confident. “We’ll get the plan approved, and we’ll save as much of it as we can.”
“And that’s what you want?”
He nodded. “That’s what I want.”
There was still some disquiet rumbling inside me, but all I could do was take his word for it. He walked me to the living room, and we cuddled on the couch as we flicked through movies before settling on a cute romcom from thirty years ago. I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, and before long, I was asleep in his arms.
I had a meeting with the bank on Monday where they told me my pre-approval had come through. That meant I could make a fair offer on Radcliffe House as soon as I figured out how to broach the subject with Sebastian.
The demolition wasn’t slated to happen for six months, though. At this point, the gala on Saturday was much more pressing. We had to finish all the work by Wednesday evening to let the event planners have the space for their setup. It was all hands on deck to get the job done. I’d find the right opportunity to make an offer on the house once we were through with the vote. I had time.
I found Sebastian with Vinnie just outside the theater, supervising the replacement of all those marquee bulbs. Sebastian smiled at me as I came to a stop beside him, his hand brushing the back of my arm.
“This is going to look great,” Vinnie said. “And my tile guy just gave us the okay to walk near the entrance. You want to have a look?”
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” I answered, following the older man inside. Clutching my chest, I let out a happy sigh.
The wonderful, talented, amazing tile guy had done an incredible job matching the tiles and making the entryway look like it had always been this way. A geometric pattern welcomed visitors and ushered them further into the lobby, where the huge chandelier and the staircases gave the room a sense of scale and grandeur.
“Not bad for a little Virginia town, huh,” I said.
Sebastian grinned. “Not bad,” he agreed.
The wall sconces were being installed, and the final coat of paint was going up on the walls. There were a dozen workers doing their thing, so I tried to stay out of their way while ticking things off my to-do list.
“I think we’ll get there by Wednesday,” I said, glancing at Vinnie. “You?”
“No problems at all,” he said, smiling. “It’s going to look perfect.”
All that was left to do was put the final touches on the presentation, pick up my rented gown—and shoes—and prepare myself to let it all hang out in front of the entire town council. I glanced across the lobby to Sebastian, who was speaking to one of the electricians, and couldn’t help but smile.
I knew he had different priorities. He was worried about investors and funds…but he’d still done this restoration. With me. We’d started on opposite sides of the war only to find common ground. We could find common ground with Radcliffe House. And perhaps more. I could win him over and give him a generous offer for a run-down house to sweeten the deal.
I was sure of it.
THIRTY-ONE
CHARLIE
The day of the Wine Festival Gala dawned bright and sunny. I woke up next to Sebastian and rolled over to slide my hand across his chest. I loved the feel of his skin against mine, the soft rasp of his chest hair under my palm. We’d spent all our evenings tangled together, working, making love, talking about the Monticello and our presentation.
I chalked up all those nagging doubts to nerves. We were doing this, and it would be great.
New Elwood was flush with wine-loving tourists. Twice this week, when I was at the Magnolia Café, I heard people bemoaning the state of their accommodations. They were cramped, or inconvenient, or located in other towns that were a long drive to our local wineries.
Sebastian was right about the town needing an upgrade. We needed at least another hotel, probably more if we wanted to keep encouraging tourists to visit. I exchanged glances with Sophie as we eavesdropped on the visitors’ complaints, and I was proud to have come up with a workable solution.
I just hoped the councilors agreed with me.
I hadn’t brought up the house. I was waiting for the right moment. With the gala coming up and so much work to do in such a short amount of time, I figured I’d have a better chance of success if I brought it up once the theater plans were presented and, hopefully, approved. Then, riding high on our first win together, I could offer to buy the house from him.
It was the best I could do. I hadn’t been able to save the theater completely, but maybe I could save my home. It would take me years—probably decades—to restore the house, especially on my salary, but what was the point of time, anyway? Why not spend it pouring love and attention into something that was meaningful to me? I could save the stained glass window. I could build a library, somewhere cozy and sun-drenched with one of those amazing fireplaces in it. The house would be everything my dad had always said it could be. My gift to him, to my mom, to myself.
“You ready for tonight?” Sebastian asked, voice rough with sleep. He pulled me closer and let his fingers drift over my arm and side in long, smooth strokes.
“I think so.”
