19. The Grand Plan
19
THE GRAND PLAN
REX
Chelsea glanced around the rooftop. “What’s going on, Rex? Is this what I think it is?”
I pulled out a chair for her to sit, and tucked her in, then sat myself across from her, laced my fingers over the folder on the table, and cleared my throat.
“This all started several years ago…” I paused and took a deep breath. “When my dad collapsed in Sun-Up Deli on Christmas Day. He was rushed to the hospital and passed away some days later.”
“What?” Her face fell. “Uncle Doug never said anything. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s difficult. Dad and his damn business and poker games and smoking…all of it took him away from Richard and I. When he had time for us, he was great. But it was too little. Christmas mornings had always been magical. Plenty of gifts, laughter, food, and fun. But he’d head to the deli with Doug and his cronies and play their poker game, Christmas Day be damned.”
I still get pissed every time I thought about the end of his life and how it didn’t have to be that way if he’d made different choices. He could have chosen to quit smoking. He could have spent more time with us over the year and in his final days.
“He was losing the battle with his cancer, and he should never have gone there that day. But they were like his extended family—and I resented all of them. Especially my—” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Especially my father.”
She placed her hands over mine, and her mouth opened and closed a few times, like she struggled to find the right words to say. I continued on.
“I never wanted anything to do with Buchanan Energy, so I made my own way in real estate. Eventually, Dad told me how proud of me he was, making a name for myself in the city. Toward the end, we saw eye to on eye on several deals and I finally grew to respect him and his business advice more and more. But his damn refusal to give up his friendships and smoking, and not following doctor’s orders, took him away from me too soon. Fucking stupid.”
“I-I don’t know what to say, but I’m here for you. I’m so glad you’re telling me these things.” Through her eyes, I could see the care there for me. It encouraged me to go on, revealing my deepest inner thoughts.
“After he passed, I couldn’t walk into the Buchanan building or the deli without smelling smoke and getting physically ill over it all. It was a psychological response, I learned, and I’ve dealt with it with one of the best therapists in the city. But when Richard stepped down and our mother begged for me to take over, I had to face it and walk into the building every day. But, if I had my way, I’d tear down the entire building and start anew.”
The pieces of the puzzle were starting to connect for her. “So the deli was not only the place of a harrowing incident when you were a boy, but also a reminder of the end of your father’s life?”
I nodded, watching the color drain from her face.
“And that’s everything? The actual reasons you can’t walk into the deli without having an anxiety attack?”
I nodded again. “Everyone sees me as this rich playboy, when really I’m a total fucking mess inside. My therapist says I try to hide it and overcompensate by being a real egotistical prick. Ah fuck.” I leaned forward, my elbows on the table, and massaged my forehead with my fingertips. “I can’t believe I just told you all of this. Mom and Richard and Pearl are the only other people who know. You probably see me as weak now.”
“No, I don’t. I’m honored you feel you can trust me with this.” She reached for my hands and took them away from my face, holding them on the table between us. “I see you, Rex. I see the scared little boy inside of you who loved his father immensely. Grief can do things to the ones left behind, I know. My family and I had our own things to work through after Dad passed, and mental health became so important for us to heal. We have so much in common, you and I. What can I do? I want to be there for you, so tell me what you need from me?”
I swallowed hard. This was it, and no time to back down now. “I do have something I need from you. Marry me.”
She straightened in her chair, giving me a stare I couldn’t read into.
“Rex, all of this is so…so sudden.” She motioned around the roof. “I’m falling for you, yes, but I didn’t expect something like this so soon.”
“So you’re saying no.”
“I’m saying maybe, with time, it’s a yes.”
“That’s not good enough. I need a firm yes, now. You see, to gain approval for my remodel plans of this building, the board of directors and my mom require me to settle down and get married.”
She huffed with her brows arched. “Oh, so they’re sick of your playboy ways?” Her hands left mine, and she stood. “Give me a minute here.” She walked away, looking out at the lights, holding her sides. It took all my patience counting slowly to sixty before I approached her from behind.
“I want to remodel the lobby of the building. Remove all traces of the past and make it new and fresh. Make it something that future generations of Buchanans will be proud of.”
She spun around. “Is that what you think you need in order to heal?”
I cocked my head at her. “Yeah, I think I do. Look.” I took her by the hand, back to the table, and pulled out Archer’s drawing. “Here’s what the new lobby will be like when finished.” I motioned here and there, pointing out where the new restaurants and shops will be, and talked about the unique sphere entrance. I stood back with a grin, admiring it like it’d be my greatest masterpiece when complete.
“I can understand that buildings need updating now and then. But—wait.” She pointed a finger to where the Buchanan Energy sign sat on the concourse and traced a path to the deli on the corner, putting it all together. “My corner space looks different. Where’s the deli on this plan?”
A sinking feeling overcame me, almost like a warning not to proceed, but I’d come this far. I retrieved the papers and spread them on the table. “About that, it won’t exist, but marry me, Chelsea, and I’ll give you anything else you want. In fact, I have some ideas I’ve drafted in this proposal.”
“A proposal? This sounds more like a business deal, not a marriage proposal.”
I displayed the prenup and marriage contract on the table.
“You’d never have to worry about money again, and your mother, too. I’ll pay Doug handsomely for his deli and then some, and he can retire in style. For you…I’ll give you everything you ever dreamed about. Culinary school, a trip to Paris to study with the best pastry chefs, and here in New York, your own restaurant, either in the new lobby of the building or anywhere else you’d like to open one.”
She chewed her cheek and my shoulders dropped; she didn’t look happy.
“So the only reason you want to marry is to get what you want?” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong. This is a very real marriage proposal. I’ve never felt about any woman the way I do about you. Chelsea, please.” I fumbled with the black box and took out the ring. Taking her left hand, I slid it on her ring finger. “Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.”
Her lips trembled, and the tears wouldn’t stop. She looked down at the ring, at her shaking hand held in mine.
She was going to say yes. My victory was in sight.
Slowly, she brought her hand closer to her eyes and fingered the diamond.
She had to say yes. It’s what I wanted. Her, the remodeled building, no trace of the past…I wanted it all.
My hope died, though, watching her remove the ring and put it into my hand. “Don’t you know, Rex? All the money in the world can’t buy you happiness.”
She walked away and took the stairwell down.
“Chelsea, stop,” I yelled. “Stop.” But she didn’t.
When I heard the door slam behind her, I screamed into the night as if every ounce of pain from my past released from my body. A swift breeze blew the papers and plans from the table, scattering them all over.
I stared at the ring in my palm that I paid handsomely for. But Chelsea was right. Money didn’t buy me happiness. I ran to the edge of the rooftop and threw the ring off into the distance.