Chapter 32
It takes three tries before I successfully turn off my alarm.
My eyes feel bleary and swollen, and my stomach feels as if it’s shriveled up like a raisin.
I don’t know if I should blame my dream and how it ended in a cliff-hanger worthy of a television season finale, or my nerves, which have only now clued in to the fact that it’s morning, and I’m meeting with Mansfield in a few short hours, and the outcome will likely shape—oh, I don’t know—my entire future.
The two cups of coffee I drink while waiting for Miranda to pick me up do nothing for my stomach other than make me more jittery.
It doesn’t help that when Miranda picks me up, she hands me a to-go cup from Okay Cafe.
I drink it, despite better judgment, and it cranks my heart rate up another notch so that I’m very aware of its rapid beating as we drive from West Lake to Port Logan.
Miranda, however, seems calm, cool, and collected as she reviews some last-minute thoughts on how she expects the meeting to go.
“We’ll get you sorted, honey,” she says as she pulls the car into the parking lot of the sales office.
“There’s no need to look so worried.” She pats my knee.
“You’ll have a few more pennies to calm those worries pretty soon. ”
Despite her reassurance, my mouth is dry, and I’m distinctly aware of my heartbeat as we climb the steps of the same white-sided building Reeve took me to a few weeks ago.
He opens the door just when we reach it, flashing a warm smile and a “Welcome” as he shakes Miranda’s hand and then repeats it with me.
I’m caught a little off guard by this sudden formality in our relationship, comforted only slightly when he takes my coat and rests his hand on the small of my back, letting it linger for a breath before removing it as his boss enters the room.
Howard Mansfield is shorter than I imagined, with a salmon-colored polo shirt and a deep tan that give me the impression he plays a lot of golf in Florida.
He introduces himself with a voice that feels a little too smooth and a handshake that feels a little too firm before he escorts us to a large boardroom-style table where he and Reeve take turns walking us through a very polished sales pitch.
They use catchy phrases like hot market, redevelopment, and up-and-coming as they hand us glossy photos of the rendering Reeve showed me during my last visit.
There’s even one transposed onto a real-life picture of the dance hall’s lot, although they’ve erased any trace of the old stone building.
It makes the latte Miranda bought me curdle in my stomach.
“I won’t beat around the bush here, Ms. DeMarco,” Howard says. “We are very interested in purchasing your property.”
He smiles. It’s the kind of smile where I know he expects me to do the same. However, my impulse is to glance at Reeve, who nods encouragingly. I mirror him, a slow, even nod, even though the rest of me is not quite as convinced.
“We would love to get the papers signed quickly,” Howard says to Miranda, sharing a knowing look that she does not return. “We are putting forth a very generous offer to demonstrate our interest.” He pushes a pile of papers toward us.
“My client and I will need time to go through this.” Miranda merely glances at them. “We’ll be in touch.”
Howard nods, but the stiffness in his movements makes it clear this isn’t the answer he wants. “We’ll chat later today then?” he offers with a false cheeriness to his tone.
Miranda picks up the papers and puts them in her briefcase. “We’re making it a long weekend. Let’s say early next week.”
She inclines her head toward the door. I walk that way as well but once again look toward Reeve, hoping he will follow and we will get a moment alone.
He walks us to the door like I hoped, holding it open and stepping out after us.
Miranda turns to me. “I need to make a quick phone call, honey. Would you mind if I did it now?” She glances at Reeve. “Or would you prefer I wait?”
I shake my head. “No, you go ahead. I’m great.”
She shoots Reeve one more look before pulling her phone from her purse. “Okay then. I’ll meet you at the car.” She presses her phone to her ear and wanders to the corner of the parking lot, leaving Reeve and me alone.
“How are you feeling about all of this?” Reeve steps toward me but doesn’t take me in his arms like I want him to.
“Your boss is a little intense,” I joke. “But otherwise, everything is what I expected. I want to go through the details with Miranda, but I guess I’m feeling okay. I think I just want it all to be done.”
Reeve smiles sympathetically. “I should probably get back in there.” He nods back toward the office.
“Howard is going to want to debrief. We drove up together, which means I need to take him home, so I won’t be able to stop by tonight.
” He reaches for my hand and holds it, his thumb brushing the back of my palm. “I’ll call you later, though.”
I nod. “I have an overnight shift, but it’s been a pretty quiet week so far, so I will hopefully get a break tonight.”
He glances at the office before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m glad you’re taking the weekend to think. We can talk more tomorrow night, too.”
I nod, still unsure if any amount of talking will ever make this feel right.
“It’s all going to work out, I promise.” Reeve squeezes my hand, as if he can sense my uncertainty. He kisses me one more time before disappearing back inside.
I start to walk back toward Miranda’s car. I can hear her on the phone. She’s talking fast and her arms are moving animatedly. It doesn’t seem like she will be done anytime soon.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, scanning my email. There’s one from Nurse Bouchard. The all-caps REJECTED in the subject line makes my heart sink even before I open it.
Ms. DeMarco,
Unfortunately, I will not be able to accommodate your request for a shift change on Saturday.
As you know, we have a staff shortage and I am unable to fill your position.
I should also remind you that company policy requires written requests for vacation a minimum of four weeks before the event.
In the future, please be proactive when making requests.
Yours,
Marie-Soleil Bouchard, RN, BScN, NP, CNO, OIIQ
I shove the phone back into my pocket, sadness swelling in my chest. Reeve is going to be so disappointed.
I glance quickly at Miranda, who seems to still be on her phone.
Maybe it’s better to tell Reeve the news now, instead of waiting until tonight when he calls.
Turning, I head back to the sales office. The main area is empty, so I head toward the conference room, but the sound of Howard Mansfield’s now familiar voice makes me pause.
“Things are shaping up well, Baldwin,” he says. “Nicely done.”
His words are followed by the sound of a hearty pat on the back.
“Thank you, sir,” Reeve answers.
“I had my doubts about whether you could pull all this off,” Howard says.
“But I’m impressed. It’s important we stay on track, though.
This West Lake project will be the launching point of some future deals I’m working on.
If all goes well, there will be more Mansfield projects with you at the helm. ”
I don’t know why, but I’m holding my breath, and it allows me to hear the next words out of Reeve’s mouth with absolute clarity.
“Thank you, sir,” he says. “I’m on it. Don’t worry. It’ll get done.”
There’s something in his tone that sets off a warning, like a storm gathering in the distance. I can’t see the clouds yet, but I can smell it.
Turning, I abandon my plans and instead walk slowly back to the door, taking my time to close it behind me so it doesn’t make a sound.
When I’m safely outside again, I close my eyes and remind myself that Reeve cares about me—I know he does.
But it’s clear he also cares about his job more than I thought.
I’m having a hard time separating my feelings for him from how I feel about this deal, and I worry he’s having the same problem.
When I get back to the car, Miranda is ending her call. “All set?” she asks, unlocking the door with a click of her key fob. She glances back toward the sales office. “We should probably talk, but I don’t want to do it here.”
If she says anything more, it’s drowned out by the sound of a giant backhoe digging into a mound of nearby dirt.
I glance one more time at the sales office. Howard and Reeve stand shoulder to shoulder in the window. In unison, they raise their hands and wave, watching me as I get into the car.
“I agree,” I say to Miranda.
I want to do it as far away from here as possible.