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And Sinclair was having none of it. His eyes bulged, his skin turning a dark shade of puce. “Are you out of your damn mind?”
I gave him a cool stare. “The new Monticello is worth a lot more than what we’d discussed. I’d basically be paying you for Radcliffe House if we keep it part of the deal. It’s off the table.”
Sinclair’s rage snapped against my skin like static. I held his gaze. I needed Radcliffe House, and I needed the money from the sale of the Monticello. And Sinclair needed another foothold in this town, and I knew this theater would be a jewel in his crown. I was just betting that he wanted it more than his fancy vineyard mansion. It was a bet I was desperate to win, for both the women in my life.
Sinclair sucked in a breath as if he were counting to ten in his head. After a moment, he regained a semblance of composure and met my gaze. “You know what? I’m sick of playing this game with you. I’m out.”
It took every micro-muscle in my body not to let my jaw drop. “What?”
His eyes were sharp as they read my reaction, and I worried that I’d given myself away when Sinclair began to smile. “You sell me everything we agreed on, including that shitty shack and its land, or there’s no deal.” There was a ferocity in his voice.
A hard, dry lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it back, and it plunked into the pit of my stomach. No deal meant my mother wouldn’t get what she deserved. It meant Lydia won, even from beyond the grave.
But it also meant I had Radcliffe House. An old wreck of a building that Charlie loved more than life itself.
The woman I’d fallen for in a month, or the family I owed my life to. A budding new relationship that might fall apart at any moment, or righting a wrong from three decades ago.
Grief and rage and fear blazed through me. I thought this risk was worth it, thought I could maneuver Sinclair where I wanted him. But he wasn’t taking the bait, and everything I’d worked for was slipping through my fingers.
Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure I could make it work. Was I really ready to give everything up for a woman I barely knew? What if Charlie turned around and decided she’d had enough of me? After all, she’d been pretty clear about disliking me for most of our acquaintance. What if I gave up my shot at The Bach Company for a temporary fantasy?
I’d own the right to renovate this old building, but I wouldn’t have the funds to do it. I’d have to call Hamilton Bach and tell him I couldn’t buy his company. I’d have to tell my mother that I wasn’t able to fix what my grandmother had broken.
The memory of thick, black smoke clogged my nose, irritated my eyes as I stood before Theo Sinclair. Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life?
He read something in my expression. Something I never wanted him to see. And he gave me a horrible, triumphant smile. “You either sell me the house and the hotel, or I walk away, Anderson. Your choice. But we both know this is your best option.”
With one condescending pat on the shoulder, he brushed past me to the exit. I stared after him, hollow as a drum, wondering what the hell I’d just done—and what the hell I should do.
No matter how much guilt and shame and anger churned in my stomach, the answer was the same as it had been for thirty years.
I couldn’t give up thirty years of duty to my mother, to my parents, in exchange for a woman I’d met a month ago. How could I even call this love? How could I possibly know?
Sinclair was right. There was really only one possible option.
THIRTY-THREE
ABIGAIL
When I’d left Sebastian at the bar to find Charlie, I’d caught a glimpse of green on the stairs. Her gold heels had flashed under her skirt, and I’d called out her name—but she’d had her eyes on the upper level.
I’d followed her up the opposite staircase, intending to find her and give her a big ole hug. I was so proud of her.
And then I heard them. Sebastian Anderson and that snake Theo Sinclair who’d had his eyes on our town for years. He’d wanted to buy up every bit of land he could to build his little empire in New Elwood with no regard for anyone else.
Horror spread through me like ice as I sat on the stairs above them, listening to every word of the deal. Listening to Sebastian try to wriggle his way out of some long-standing deal—and lose. No way Charlie knew anything about it.
The man had charmed my best friend. Weaseled his way into the council’s good graces. And all the while, he’d planned on selling the place off to the one man no one would have agreed to do business with.
He was worse than dirt. Lower than low. A big pile of excrement shaped like a man in a tuxedo.
And Charlie needed to know. I had to tell her before he could whisper more pretty lies in her ear. I’d seen the way they danced, the glances they’d exchanged all night. He’d used my best friend, and now he was going to break her heart.
Unless I told her first.
Hearing nothing more from down below, I glanced over the railing and, seeing no one, turned on the stairs to find out where Charlie had run to. Then, straight ahead, the singular rickety elevator doors opened, and Anderson stepped out. His gaze skittered over me for a moment, but it didn’t look like he registered my presence.
His face was drawn, his gaze worried as he glanced down the hallway toward the theaters. I ducked down and watched him hurry off to follow Charlie, and all that anger and horror and righteous fury compressed into steel-hard determination.
