Chapter 46
CHAPTER
FORTY-SIX
Emelia
I’m standing at the same podium I stood at more than two months ago.
The podium may be the same, but nothing else in my life is.
Two months ago, I stood here with a slide deck and a plan.
Tonight, I’m standing here with a folder full of LLC filings, property transfer records, and a career I’ve set aflame.
Two months ago, I didn’t know any of the people sitting in the rows in front of me. Now I know each of them.
The Thermos Crew has traded their lawn chairs for folding chairs and sits in the third row, next to Roy.
Dottie sits on the other side of the room, as does Deacon. Manuel from the Crow & Clover is here with his husband. Even Ansel and Hollis decided to attend this one.
I have the entire town in attendance, including the man I love.
He sits alone in the fifth row.
Two months ago, Elliott was a man I thought was hot, yes, but also a complete jerk.
I knew he’d be here tonight, especially after I’d dodged him for three straight days. He’s not the type of man who lets things go without answers and resolutions. His allowing Kate back in Baylor’s life is proof of that.
But it was necessary. I needed to get everything together to prove my case, to get it all out there, and let the chips fall where they may.
After talking to my mom, I gave it a lot of thought and decided that if I told Elliott everything before tonight, he would probably stay by my side and support me.
But I need to do this as me. Not as Elliott’s person, not as the woman the town absorbed as one of their own, but as Emelia Greene, the woman who helped create this mess and now has to unmake it.
Only then will I be able to answer the question Elliott asked me—will I stay?
And I hope by the end of this, he’ll still want me to.
My hands shake, so I press them flat against the podium.
“Two months ago, I stood here and presented a development proposal for Echo Lake’s north shore.
I told you that it would bring jobs, new residents, and economic growth.
I told you that nothing would move forward without the consent of the council.
” I take a calming breath. “Some of that was true, and some of it was a lie. Not a lie I knowingly told you, but one that I helped deliver, and I take responsibility for that.”
The room is silent. Silence that feels weighted when you have this many people in one space and no one is moving at all.
Opening the folder, my hands are still shaking, but I don’t bother to try to hide it now.
“I’ve discovered that the developer I work for has already acquired several properties in Echo Lake over the past several years, all under different LLCs.
After doing some digging, I found out that these LLCs were registered within months of each other, filed by the same attorney. ”
I hold up the parcel map. “I’ve marked the town-owned property in yellow, and the three parcels under the suspect LLCs in green.
The proposal I showed you was the visible portion of a much larger map, one that would fundamentally reshape the lakefront and turn Echo Lake into a destination resort community that serves tourists, not residents. ”
I set the map back down in my folder. “When I was back in Boston this past weekend, I did some further digging and uncovered that the previous owner of the town parcel was in active negotiations to sell it to the developer I work for when she passed away. At that point, she had already put in her will that she was donating it to the town and hadn’t changed it. ”
This little tidbit took me a while to uncover, and I had to go back and look through loads of old files, but I found it.
The energy in the room shifts, and not in my favor.
“I had no knowledge of the shell company acquisitions, and I was never shown the expanded site plan. The financial projections I was given were based on the full footprint of the development, and I didn’t catch the discrepancy until I started pulling public records on my own.
I should’ve caught it sooner, and I should’ve asked harder questions earlier, and I didn’t. For that, I’m sorry.”
Old man Gilroy is the first to get up and speak, from the sixth row. “You’ve been here two months. Coming to our meetings and giving us that sweet smile. And now you want us to believe you didn’t know?”
I inhale at his hard tone. “I can understand why you’d question that.”
This is what I expected, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
“I’m not questioning it. I’m saying it. You knew. You had to know. You work for these people. You expect us to believe that you were, what? Just too stupid to see it?”
My face heats, but I manage to keep the shaking out of my voice. “No. I expect you to be angry. I’m angry too.”
“You’re angry?” A woman in the second row stands, Greta Goldstein. “That’s rich. You came here to sell us a bill of goods, and now that you’re about to get caught, you want to play whistleblower?”
“I didn’t get caught. I’m standing here voluntarily.” I want so badly to look toward Elliott and see what he thinks of all this, but I don’t. I need to get through all of this first before I deal with him.
“Because you knew it was gonna come out anyway,” old man Gilroy says. “There were already rumors flying that you’d been pulling files down at the county clerk. Someone would’ve figured it out. This is just damage control. You’re only doing this to protect yourself.”
I grip either side of the podium, knuckles whitening. “I resigned from my position this weekend. I have nothing left to protect.”
“Except the man whose property you’ve been living on,” someone calls from the back of the room.
“Yeah, pretty convenient, don’t you think?” Greta says. “You get cozy with Elliott Mercer while you’re probably drawing a target on his camp.”
The room buzzes. Side conversations are an underlying murmur throughout the space. I’m the face of everything these people are afraid of.
“Listen,” old man Gilroy says, stepping out into the aisle. “I don’t know what your angle is, but if you think you can come to this town and lie to us for two months—”
“She didn’t lie to you.” The voice is low, clear, and certain.
Elliott stands.
My gaze shoots to him, and our eyes meet. I can’t help but feel a sense of relief when I don’t find animosity in those pools of deep blue.
“She didn’t lie to you.” He turns to address the room. “I was the first person in town to push back on her, and two months ago, I asked her questions in this same room that she couldn’t answer. And I went home that night thinking she was the enemy.” His gaze falls back to me. “And I was wrong.”
My heart rate climbs, and my breaths become shallow.
“Emelia moved into my bunkie, and I wanted her gone. She sat across from me and ate dinner, and I wanted her gone. She sat on the end of my dock, and I wanted her gone.”
The only sound in the room is the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above us.
“She’s not the one who did this to us. The developer is.
They used her the same way they were trying to use us—as a means to an end.
But she figured it out and risked everything to be here, telling you about it so that the council can vote accordingly next week.
When, if she wanted, she could’ve gotten in her car and driven back to Boston after this was all said and done and never thought about Echo Lake again. ”
“How do you know that?” Greta asks. She doesn’t sound as certain anymore.
Elliott turns and meets my gaze. “Because I know her.” He says it the way he says most things—plain and direct. “And because she’s here.”
And it’s in that nod that I know he understands. Understands that I needed to do this on my own and see where he landed after I broke the news.
I can barely breathe, and my eyes burn as I try not to let the tears gather.
Jimmy stands slowly. “I’ve been sitting outside the Bait & Tackle for damn near twenty-five years now. Watched a lot of people come and go. Some of them want something from us, some want something for us. Emelia’s the second kind.”
Sam stands up beside him and nods once, but enough for everyone to know that he’s signing off on what Jimmy just said.
Clyde is already halfway out of his chair when he speaks. “Now, I’ve known a few developers in my day, but when I was running the marina—”
“Clyde,” Jimmy says.
Clyde sits down, but he points at me first. “I’m with her. For the record.”
Then Roy stands, wearing a Taylor Swift T-shirt, and that makes the lump forming in my throat grow to painful levels.
“I talked to Emelia before she even came to town, back when I rented her the bunkie, and I knew she was good people then. Since Emelia came to town, she’s sat across from me and played poker with me, she’s spent time with my grandniece, and she’s brought something back to my nephew’s life that was missing for a long time.
” He pauses, his eyes moving to Elliott.
“I’m not an easy man to fool, and neither is Elliott.
If she says she didn’t know, she didn’t know. ”
Hollis doesn’t bother standing, instead, speaking from his seat. “She ruined her career in order to stand in this room tonight and tell the truth. Why would she do that other than wanting to protect this town and do what’s right?”
The question lingers, but no one answers it.
Ansel stands, grinning at me over the heads of everyone else. “She’s one of us, whether she knows it yet or not.”
My vision blurs, and I have to grip the podium even harder.
Dottie stands to address the crowd. “Greta, sweetheart, you got your work done a couple of months ago and came back looking fantastic, though a few cup sizes larger, and no one said anything to you. We were all just happy for you. Let’s extend the same grace to the woman who just blew up her whole life to protect ours. ”
Greta opens her mouth, closes it, then sits down.
Deacon stands and crosses his big arms. “I’ve named something after everyone in this town who matters. She’s had a pastry in the case for three weeks, so that should tell you how I feel about her.”
Old man Gilroy sets his hands on his hips and sighs before meeting my eyes. “Guess I was wrong. Suppose I owe you an apology.”
“You were scared. I can understand that.”
I look toward Elliott. He’s still watching me in that steady, intense way of his. I gather my folder, full of evidence I apparently didn’t need, step away from the podium, and make my way toward the door.
Dottie is waiting there when I reach it. “Mascara’s holding up. Impressive.”
I laugh, but it comes out broken.
“Come by the café tomorrow. Pancakes. On me. You look like you’ve lost ten pounds from stress.”
“I could always use pancakes.” I start to walk through the door, then pause. “Why did you leave Vegas again?” Maybe now she’ll tell me the truth.
“Tax reasons.”
I guess not. I give her a watery smile, then walk out the door. The air is cold, and the sky is black, only a few stars shining through the gaps in the clouds.
The door opens behind me, and I know it’s him before I even turn around. I know the cadence and weight of his steps, and the way the energy changes when he’s near.
“Hey.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and turn around. “Hey.”
“You should have told me.” There’s hurt in his eyes, but no anger.
“I know.”
“I would have stood next to you up there.”
“I know.”
He’s quiet. I see the frustration and the understanding. “You had to do it alone.”
I nod. “I did. I had to earn my place here.”
He takes my hand, and I swear his eyes shine. “You earned it a long time ago, Em.”
I step into him and rest my forehead against his chest, while his arms wrap around me, solid, warm, and secure.
“I love you so much, and I’ve acted like a—”
I press my fingers to his lips. There’s nothing else to say, except, “I love you too, Elliott. Now will you take me home?” It’s the first time I’ve called it that.
His arms tighten around me, and he holds his breath for half a second. Then he presses a kiss to the top of my head and stays there. “No bunkie. Home with Baylor and me.”
I give my answer to his unasked question by rising to my tiptoes and placing my lips to his, sealing our future with a kiss.