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Mr. Thompson held up a hand, “I appreciate your enthusiasm. But this is not a decision I can make unilaterally. I’ll need to discuss this with the bank’s board and review your proposal in detail.”
“Of course,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “I understand.”
He nodded, giving me a somewhat more genuine smile. “We’ll get back to you within the week. In the meantime, if you can gather some community support, references or endorsements, it might strengthen your case.”
Grateful for the lifeline he was throwing me, I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll do that.”
As I stepped out of the bank, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on me. The town was my home now, and I so desperately wanted this dream to take root. But I knew that proving myself and gathering the support I needed wouldn’t be easy.
The soft glow of the hanging chandeliers at Le Petite Française cast a warm light over the patrons as murmurs of conversation and clinking cutlery added to the ambiance. Though the restaurant was just a recent addition to the town's scene, its allure was undeniable. There was a comforting sense of intimacy that made it perfect for dates or personal gatherings.
Dressed in a simple but elegant navy dress, I nervously tapped my foot, waiting for Austin. When he arrived, wearing a crisp white shirt that accentuated his tan, my heart involuntarily sped up. His gaze locked onto mine, and even from across the room, his eyes seemed to say a thousand words.
"Sorry I'm late," he said as he took his seat opposite me. His lips quirked up in that familiar half-smile. "You look... breathtaking."
I chuckled, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you, Austin. You clean up pretty well yourself."
After ordering some wine and entrées, I hesitated for a moment, collecting my thoughts before diving into the day’s main topic.
Austin noticed my pensiveness. "Everything okay? You look a tad lost in thought."
I sighed, biting my lip. "It's the bank. I have this dream of opening a gallery, and I saw a perfect storefront. But the bank is being... cautious."
Austin raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. "Cautious? How so?"
Taking a deep breath, I narrated my encounter with Mr. Thompson and the challenges I faced in trying to secure the loan. The more I talked, the more animated I became, my passion for the project evident in every word.
Austin listened intently, sipping his wine occasionally, his eyes never leaving mine. When I finished, he was quiet for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. Finally, he said, "Banks, especially in smaller towns, operate a lot on trust. It’s not just about numbers and projections."
I nodded, my eyes pleading. "That's why I was thinking... do you think you could talk to the owner of the vineyard? Perhaps if I had a reference from a local business, it might sway them."
Austin looked taken aback for a moment, then contemplative. He swirled the wine in his glass, seemingly buying time. "You want me to speak to the owner?”
"Yes!" I said, maybe a bit too eagerly. "You work at the vineyard, right? A word from such an established business would mean so much. I... I really believe in this, Austin."
He looked at me with an intensity that made my heart race. The depth of emotion in those green eyes was overwhelming. "Of course, I'll talk to him," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion.
I let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Austin. You have no idea how much this means to me."
He nodded but looked... troubled. "Paisley, there's something I need to tell you."
I leaned forward, concern evident on my face. "What is it?"
He hesitated for a beat too long, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass. "It’s about the vineyard...”
But just as he was about to reveal what was on his mind, the waiter arrived, disrupting the moment.
As we left Le Petite Française, the cool evening air was refreshing, causing a slight shiver to run down my spine. Austin, ever the gentleman, draped his jacket around my shoulders.
"Let's go to my place?" I proposed, a little apprehensively. "I've got a nice bottle of wine that could use some company."
He smiled, those green eyes sparkling under the moonlight. "I'd love to."
The apartment was only a few blocks away from the restaurant. As we walked side by side, the silence between us wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with the unsaid. Every now and then, our hands would brush against each other, sending tiny jolts of electricity up my arm.
Upon reaching my home, I fumbled with the keys a bit before finally unlocking the door. "Welcome to my humble abode," I announced theatrically, gesturing for Austin to enter.
He chuckled, his gaze taking in the surroundings. The place was quaint, decorated with various art pieces I had collected. The focal point was, of course, my painting area, where an unfinished piece sat on the easel.
