Chapter 31
ELLORA
On Monday morning, I was still riding the high from Second Story Sunday. The shop smelled like coffee and the lemon oil I’d used when I’d cleaned before the market. Rays of sunshine spilled through the windows onto the mismatched rugs and crowded shelves.
Somehow, the air in here didn’t feel heavy today. It felt alive.
The market had been a huge success. Massive, actually. It had surpassed all my wildest expectations and I knew it had made a huge difference to the morale around here.
Most of the locals had sold out by noon and the rest hadn’t been far behind. Even my own booth—manned by some friends so I could keep the market running—had done better than I’d expected.
I’d wound up spending half the night here in the store, restocking candles and labeling new soaps until my fingers cramped, but I didn’t care. Every shelf was restocked, my own as well as the ones for neighborhood goods.
It had been bittersweet, joy and grief tangling together in a way I hadn’t learned how to separate yet.
There had been moments when I’d wanted to cry, standing there watching everyone laugh, talk, and eat, and then I’d felt guilty for being happy when Mom wasn’t here to see it, but deep down, I really believed she would’ve loved it.
It was just too bad that Holden had been acting weird. I’d really wanted to celebrate with him afterward. I’d thought we could grab some dinner, open a bottle of wine, and maybe talk about how he’d been right to push me to take more risks.
But he’d been quiet and distracted. He’d said he had to handle something for work, but he’d looked pale. Maybe he just ate something bad. One of the hot dogs from the street cart, maybe?
I’d had one too and I felt fine, but Holden was a lot fancier than me. Maybe his system had shorted out at the taste of cheap yellow mustard. Still, something about the way he’d said goodbye had felt off.
I pushed the thought aside as I straightened a display of glass jars near the front counter. It was early yet, the street outside quiet except for a delivery truck rumbling past, but for the first time in months, I had hope for the day ahead.
When I finally sat down at the counter with my coffee, I noticed the envelope. It must have been slipped through the mail slot sometime on Sunday, but things had been so busy around here that I hadn’t noticed it.
It was plain white, heavier than junk mail but thinner than a bill. The return address, however, made my stomach tighten. The Renewal Initiative.
I tore it open without dragging out the moment, stupidly hoping that maybe it was something else this time.
An apology or an updated offer that didn’t feel like an insult, but no.
It was the same thick paper, the same corporate logo stamped across the top, and the same pittance being offered for me to vacate the building.
The only difference this time was the tone. Previously, it had been arrogant, but at least it had contained the corporate bullshit version of niceties. This letter was a lot more final, and my chest constricted when I got to the reason for it.
They now owned the property. My hand froze halfway through my second sip of coffee. They what?
Mr. Karabekian had already sold to them. They must have paid up front for it to have gone through so fast. My heart started thudding so hard that it was painful, my fingers suddenly trembling so much that I had to put the cup down.
I stared at the words until they blurred, but no additional information jumped out at me.
No explanations for how it ha’d moved so fast or what would happen if I didn’t agree.
Once I gave up on that paragraph, I scanned the rest of the letter, but it was the same polished nonsense, phrases like urban renewal and community upliftment that sounded nice until you realized they meant demolition and displacement.
There was even a little line near the bottom that made my blood simmer. Please sign and return by the end of the month to ensure a smooth transition process.
Smooth for who? Not me, that was for sure. Especially not at the price they were offering to pay to buy me out. I flipped the page over.
Once again, they’d highlighted where I should sign, bright orange stickers pointing the way like I was too dense to find the dotted line myself. Well, they can shove their stickers up their noses.
I had no intention of letting go of my lease early. A number was listed near the bottom of the letter for inquiries regarding my offer. I grabbed my phone.
Fine, I’ll contact them. It’s time to tell them exactly what I think of their initiative and let them know they have a problem on their hands. I will not go gentle into that good night.
I punched in the number and pressed call, my heart hammering with a mix of nerves and fury. After only two rings, a bright, chirpy voice answered.
“Langton Development. How can I direct your call?”
As soon as I heard the name of the company, my entire being froze.
It landed like an ice ray that had been aimed right at my soul.
My heart stuttered, but I cleared my throat, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I’m sorry. I, uh, I think I called the wrong number.
I was looking for the Renewal Initiative, but—”
“Oh, Mr. Langton’s assistant is who you’d like to speak to, then,” the woman said easily, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Wait.” My voice cracked as my eyelids slammed shut. “Holden Langton?”
“Yes, ma’am. That project is his baby. I’m not sure if he’s available right now to talk himself, but his office will have whatever information you need.”
Her words tumbled through my head, but I didn’t quite understand what she was saying. My brain seemed to have been flung into a jumble of disbelief. His baby.
The same Holden who had held me through my mother’s funeral. The same man who had taken her to the beach. Who had kissed me in the waves. My heart stuttered painfully in my chest.
“Ma’am?”
“Uh, yeah,” I managed, but my voice was shaky as hell. “I guess I should speak with his assistant.”
“Of course. Just hold on the line for me, please. I’ll put you right through.” There was a short pause, then a soft click as she transferred me.
A new voice came on just a few seconds later, smooth and professional. “Good morning. You’ve reached Holden Langton’s office. This is Maia speaking.”
“Hi,” I said, the word almost slurred with the weight of my disbelief. “I, uh, I’m one of the tenants the Renewal Initiative is trying to work out a deal with. I was wondering if I might speak to the developer directly?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say his name. Not out loud, too scared that would make it real. Although all indications were that it was real already.
“Of course,” Maia said cheerfully. “You’re in luck. He just walked out of a meeting and he’s available. Please hold while I transfer you.”
The line clicked again and then his voice, his devastatingly familiar voice, slid through the receiver. “This is Holden Langton. How can I—”
I didn’t even let him finish. My hand holding the phone simply slipped away from my ear and I blindly hung up, so stunned that I kept blinking rapidly, and there was no way to stop it. I set my phone down on the counter so I wouldn’t accidentally drop it.
The last thing I needed right now was to have to replace my phone. I slid off my chair and backed up a step. It didn’t make much sense, but I suddenly felt the need to put some distance between myself and the device, my stomach twisting violently.
Holden Langton. Langton Development. The Renewal Initiative.
The dots connected, forming an ugly picture. I grabbed the edge of the counter to stay upright as the truth crashed through me, hard and cold. I couldn’t believe that the same man who’d comforted me, who’d stuck by my side and made me laugh even on the darkest days, could be responsible for this.
Holden wasn’t so heartless, was he? No, he couldn’t be. He was warm and friendly, with that thick, sandy hair always a little mussed. He hadn’t hesitated to splash into the ocean with me that day, running across the sand like it was the best damn thing he’d ever done.
He couldn’t be the soulless developer who was about to wreck my livelihood. He couldn’t be the brain behind the idiotically named Renewal Initiative.
But then a memory trickled slowly into my shock-numb brain. That night when he’d taken me to dinner, we’d gone to a neighborhood he’d revived before. At the time, I’d been impressed. Sure.
Everything had looked so polished and refreshed, the community on the streets vibrant and alive. What I hadn’t been thinking about was that before them, others had been there. Other people who had operated businesses and lived in the area he’d swooped in to fix.
Oh, God. He is that guy.
That guy who came across as one thing but was morally bankrupt and just really good at hiding it. That guy whose hubris was such that he had to have his name slapped on the skyline forever, no matter who or what had been there before.
I was really, really struggling to accept that the man who had stood by my side through the very worst part of my life could really be the same person. Holden had arrived in my life like a tornado, simply arriving and refusing to leave until he was done.
Done with what, I didn’t yet know, but I hadn’t seen him coming. That first night I’d walked into class and saw the most handsome man ever was my professor, I hadn’t thought for a second that we’d end up here.
Yet we had.
All because he’d asked me to coffee. He’d made a business proposition and sent me shopping, inviting me to dinner to get to know each other even though that hadn’t been part of our original agreement. I’d never quite understood what the word blindsided meant until this very minute.
Had he been playing me all along? Was this some kind of sick billionaire game? Get close to the girl whose shop he was about to bulldoze just for kicks?
I slid down the cabinet, my ass landing hard on the floor. My breath came in ragged bursts, tears streaming down my cheeks before I could stop them.
I didn’t even know what hurt more. That he was behind it or that he hadn’t told me. All I knew was that it hurt, so I pressed my hands over my face and sobbed until my whole body was sore.
The last time I’d cried like this, he’d been there to hold me. Now he was the one causing it, and I would never, ever allow him to know.