Chapter Twenty-Seven
May I Have This Dance?
Cal surveyed the ballroom pleased with how everything was arranged. The linens looked excellent. The flowers had arrived on time and added vibrant color to the ballroom.
So far, so good.
Now he just jinxed the whole thing.
Which made him think of Rachel and her banter about jinxing things. It brought a smile to his face, along with a touch of sadness.
He couldn’t think about that now. He had to stay focused.
The Connecticut Historical Society Gala was underway and was going along quite well.
There were some last-minute hiccups, but nothing they couldn’t handle.
He’d already checked in with Joel and Jake who were busy cranking out the appetizers.
The kitchen was hectic, but the organized chaos was running perfectly.
Entering the foyer, he glanced around. It remained surreal to see people walking around in all their fancy clothes in what he still thought of as his grandfather’s home.
Smiling, he nodded to a server as they returned to the kitchen. The food appeared to be a big hit. The venue's perception was always better with great food and drinks, despite it being out of his control.
Watching the people as they mingled, he was shocked to see his parents walking toward him. He didn’t know they were attending. Although he was kinda glad he hadn’t. It would have made his stress level even higher, if that was possible.
“Mom, Dad,” he greeted them. “You look very nice. I was unaware you were attending this evening.”
"I don't know why," his father answered. “The Historical Society Gala is a perfect networking opportunity for our business. And yours,” he added after a moment, surprising Cal.
“This business, Cal.” His mother shrugged. “I simply do not see the attraction to this kind of work.”
Cal suppressed a sigh. He did not feel like talking business tonight.
He had no desire to know the outcome of the meeting yesterday; he wanted to preserve the dream for one more night.
Besides, why ruin what should be a great night?
Although without Rachel here, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to hear all about the demise of the estate.
“I know you don’t understand my work nor my drive to continue building and growing the property, but it is my life’s work for as long as I am able.
” He sighed. He doubted his parents would ever get his passion for the estate.
“Nevertheless, tonight isn’t the time or place to discuss the future of White Hall.
If you’ll excuse me, I have guests to attend to. ”
He started to walk away when his father added, “Well, it seems that Rachel found some merit in your plans.”
He froze before slowly turning back to them. Had he heard that correctly? “I’m sorry,” he said. “Can you repeat that?”
“Rachel, the consultant. She found some promise in your plans to open a distillery. She not only pitched it to us as a viable option, but her report lays out how it is the superior long-term option.”
Cal felt as if he'd been struck. What happened at that meeting? “Rachel provided you with information about opening a distillery at White Hall?”
“She did.” His mother sniffed. “Quite frankly, when we left, we had every intention of calling the owners and demand she be fired or, at a minimum, demoted.”
Cal felt his stomach clench. Rachel had jeopardized her job for him and his dream. He scowled, just thinking of how easily his parents could derail her career.
“While we still feel she transgressed,” his mother continued, unconcerned about Cal’s reaction. “When we reviewed the data she provided about potential income and year-over-year growth potential, your father and I held off lodging our complaint.
“She included material from your business plan, complete with the expansion details and projected earnings from liquor sales both in-person and shipped.”
Cal’s mind was reeling. He could barely take in what his mother and father were saying. But he was also confused as to how some of his long-term plans for White Hall had ended up in Rachel’s report.
“We don’t agree with nor understand your desire to do this,” his father chimed in. “But we can’t ignore the financial advantages and potential long-term prosperity of the distillery.”
“In addition,” his mother added. “We are very much in favor of gifting our clients bottles of spirits from the family estate. That has a certain amount of panache.”
“Given all of that,” his father continued. “We think your expansion plan and the distillery are the way to move forward with White Hall.”
Cal couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. It was what he hoped and dreamed for so long. As relieved as he was that the estate was safe, he couldn’t stop the wave of the anxiety that followed. As things stood, his parents could continue to control the future of the estate.
“You’ll let me build it and grow it my way? On my timeline with no predetermined profit margins?” he questioned, his voice hard. No way was he going through this with them again.
His parents looked at each other and had one of those couple’s eyebrow things. Where they communicate fully without ever saying a word. Whatever his father was seeing didn’t sit well, but after a moment he grudgingly agreed. “Fine. We can abide by that.”
Cal’s suspicions were up, so he demanded, “Are you sure?”
His mother’s sigh was sharp. “We really do want the most advantageous result for the estate and the family legacy and, by extension, you.”
“Excellent.” Cal replied quickly, making a snap decision. “Then I will buy you out. We can formulate the details together, but the only way this works is if I have total control.”
He was probably seeing things, but he swore he saw grudging respect in their eyes. When they both acknowledged their agreement, he felt like he could fly.
“We’ll meet next week and discuss the details,” his father said. “Now your mother and I have to return to the party. There are several people we need to see.”
Cal kept his mouth shut, letting his father have the last word.
They didn’t look entirely happy about things.
No need to push his luck tonight. He’d wait a couple of days before setting up that meeting, letting them get used to the notion of the distillery and the buyout.
That would give him time to draft the necessary contracts and solidify his plan for the trust payment.
Another server brushed by him en route to the kitchen, shaking him out of his contemplation. He ought to check in with Jess and ask if she needed help, though likely she didn't. She had this event sewed up in tiny little orderly rows.
What he couldn’t let go of was how Rachel presented the distillery option in her report. She’d included part of his five-year plan. The same document his parents refused to read. Had he even shared that with her?
As he started walking, it was as if his thoughts had conjured her. Rachel was walking toward him, carrying a large brown paper-wrapped parcel.
His eyes took in everything from her new hairstyle to the gorgeous blue dress she was wearing. She looked like a vision. A vision that he very much wanted to hold and not let go of for a long-ass time.
“Rachel,” he breathed when they met halfway across the foyer. “You look amazing. That dress is stunning,” he added, unable to edit his words. The dusty pink blush that touched her cheeks at his words provided him a deep sense of satisfaction. He loved when she reacted to him like that.
“Thanks, Cal. That’s very kind of you to say.”
“And,” he continued. “Your hair looks very nice. A new haircut?”
She nervously tugged on it. “Yes, it’s new. Kinda short for me.”
“I like it,” he said quickly, making her blush deepen.
“And I like your suit,” she responded.
Now it was his turn to be nervous. “Thanks. It’s a new look for me too,” he said.
The slim cut navy suit complete with a vest had been pretty far outside his comfort zone, but when he’d shown it to Jess, she’d assured him it was a good look and certainly nice enough to work the black-tie gala.
“In a sea of tuxes,” he added. “It helps people find me.”
Here they both were—talking around the obvious issue. Looking around the crowded foyer, he asked, “Rachel, can we go somewhere and talk privately?”
“Please. I’d like that, Cal.”
Turning toward the kitchen, they’d taken only a few steps when Jess sailed up, clipboard in hand and a bright smile on her face.
“Rachel,” Jess sighed, tears shining in her eyes. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks Jess. That means a lot.”
“And this hair,” she reached out turning Rachel to the side so she could see more of it. “This is a seriously kick ass style. Looks even better in person.”
Cal noticed the blush staining Rachel’s cheeks as Jess continued to compliment her sister’s new look.
And what a look it was. He had to agree with Jess.
Rachel looked incredible. Then again, she was always beautiful to him whether smeared with dirt from plumping repair, chowing down on a Vinny’s sub, or with a smear of fluff on her lip.
“Okay,” Jess said suddenly. “I have to run.” Looking at Cal, she assessed his outfit. “Looking good, boss man.”
“Thanks Jess. You need help with anything?”
“Nah, I’m good.” She turned back to Rachel, pulling her into a tight hug.
“I love you, Rach,” he heard Jess whisper.
“I love you too,” Rachel whispered back.
Before either of them could say another word, Jess was striding away toward the ballroom.
Cal didn’t remark on the unshed tears welling up in Rachel’s eyes.
He put a hand on her lower back as they resumed walking.
He surprised her by opening a door before his office.
Ushering her through, he noticed her looking around at the sitting room, converted to a conference room of sorts.
A large table held files, floor plan drawings, and a few linen samples.