Chapter Thirty-Eight Grace
Thirty-Eight
Grace
The huge five-star hotel in Seattle had a lobby so grand, it made Grace want to check if her shoes were clean before she walked across the marble floors.
Everything gleamed. Everything was enormous.
Crystal chandeliers the size of small cars hung from ceilings so high they might as well have been clouds.
Women in stunning gowns glided past like swans, their jewelry catching the light in ways that suggested they were either very real or very, very good fakes. Grace was betting on real.
She looked down at her dress, still slightly stunned at how good she felt…
and looked. Ten dresses had shown up at her apartment that morning along with a stylist who’d descended on her living room like a very chic SWAT team.
She’d tried on every dress and chosen the champagne silk because…
well, she’d felt goddamn amazing in it! A floor-length column dress with a subtle cowl neck and an open back that made her feel elegant and exposed in equal measure.
The stylist had paired it with diamonds that were definitely real (Grace had been too afraid to ask how much they cost), strappy gold heels that added three inches to her height and a clutch so small it could barely hold her phone and lipstick.
When she’d looked in the mirror back at her apartment, she understood what Reese saw when he looked at her. Not the struggling single mom. Not the waitress or the dreamer or the woman who was always one crisis away from falling apart.
She saw someone beautiful. Someone worthy. Someone who could stand next to a man like Reese Spencer and belong there.
The realization had made her cry, which had made the stylist panic and frantically reapply mascara.
When Reese had picked her up, he’d frozen in her doorway for a solid five seconds, just staring. “Grace,” he’d said finally, “you look absolutely breathtaking.”
And then he’d kissed her, careful not to mess up the makeup that had taken an hour to apply, and Grace had thought maybe she could pull this off.
And Reese. He looked amazing. His tux fit him like it had been sewn on to his body.
The black fabric made his hair look more golden, his eyes greener.
When they arrived at the Four Seasons ballroom, he moved through the crowd with confidence, shaking hands, laughing at jokes, introducing Grace with his hand warm and steady at the small of her back.
“Grace, this is Howie Stevens and his wife Ruth. Howie runs the West Coast operations for—”
Grace smiled and nodded through the introduction, trying to remember if she was supposed to shake hands or do that weird air-kiss thing rich people did. She went with the handshake. Safer.
“And what do you do, Grace?” Ruth asked, her smile polite and genuinely curious.
Grace froze. What did she say? I’m a waitress felt too small. I serve coffee to people like you felt defensive.
“Grace and I are actually competing for the same property,” Reese said smoothly, saving her from having to answer. “The Maple Inn, on Solace Lake. Beautiful historic building.”
She looked at him, surprised. They hadn’t talked about the inn. Not since that moment in the tower when he’d said she should have it, that it meant more to her. And now he was back to saying they were competing for it?
Howie raised his eyebrows. “Competing? I presume you’re fighting her hard for it, Reese, like you always do? Though I imagine it’s difficult to get approval from small-town people, especially when it’s a rich outsider like you asking.”
Reese shrugged. “Maybe Grace and I will share it. Could be interesting.”
Grace frowned. Okay, so now it was share it? What did that even mean? Two days ago he’d told her she should have it. Now they were sharing it? What had changed?
Before she could process that, someone called Reese’s name from across the room—someone important, judging by the way Reese’s posture shifted slightly.
“Excuse me one second,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
And then he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd, leaving Grace standing alone in a sea of tuxedos and ball gowns. She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server, her second or maybe third, who was counting? She smiled, taking it all in.
“Grace Sullivan. Fancy seeing you here.”
The voice made Grace’s stomach drop.
She turned to find Victoria Warren, or “Wicked Witch of Lakeside Restaurants” as Sophie referred to her, gliding toward her, resplendent in an emerald-green gown.
Her dyed red bob was swept up in an elaborate updo, diamonds dripping from her ears and throat.
She looked like money and cruelty wrapped in Valentino.
Victoria was the owner of several restaurants in the state, including one overlooking Solace Lake. She was also the member of every important committee and the richest person in town (not counting the recent billionaire invasion).
She was also a complete bitch.
“Victoria,” Grace managed, trying to sound pleased. “Hi. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it. Seattle Children’s Hospital is one of my favorite causes.” Victoria’s smile was all teeth. “Though I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here. With Reese Spencer, no less. Quite the upgrade.”
There it was. The subtle dig wrapped in social niceties.
“Reese and I are…seeing each other,” Grace said.
“I did hear rumors of a tower lock-in. How…lovely.” Victoria sipped her champagne, her eyes calculating. “Though I hope you’re not getting too attached. Men like Reese Spencer don’t exactly settle down with women like you. No offense.”
“Absolutely lots of offense taken,” Grace said, giving Victoria a thin smile.
Victoria laughed. “Oh, you’ve always been a fiery one, Grace.
I’m actually saying this in kindness, one Solace Springs resident to another.
I mean, look around.” Victoria gestured at the ballroom.
“This is his world. Private jets and fundraisers and business deals worth more than our entire town. Can you really see yourself fitting into all this long-term?”
Grace wanted to throw her champagne in Victoria’s face. Wanted to tell her to mind her own damn business. Wanted to defend herself, defend Reese, defend whatever this thing between them was.
Instead, she managed a: “We’re figuring it out.”
“Mm.” Victoria’s smile sharpened. “How’s the competition for the inn going?”
“It’s on hold for now, until Abe can assess the damage from the storm.”
Victoria frowned. “I don’t see the point. It’s going to be knocked down anyway if Reese gets it, so what does it matter?”
Grace’s spine straightened. “What do you mean, knocked down?”
Victoria tilted her head. “Oh. Hasn’t he told you what he actually plans to do with the property?”
Something cold slithered down Grace’s spine. “Yes. A wildlife eco resort.”
“Interesting, because his assistant Erika has been very busy the last few days. Reaching out to town council members, requesting building permits, digging into the inn’s original floorplans from the early eighteen hundreds.”
Grace’s heart started to pound. “What?”
“Apparently,” Victoria’s smile was poisonous now, enjoying every second of this, “the Spencer family has something buried under that inn. Something Reese’s ancestors hid there before they headed to Canada.
Reese is planning to buy the inn, demolish the whole thing and excavate.
Get to that treasure. Quite clever, really. ”
Grace actually took a step back, champagne sloshing in her glass. “No. No, he wouldn’t. Are you sure you heard right?”
“Oh, I didn’t just hear it.” Victoria pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages with manicured nails. “Erika emailed me directly. I sit on the town council’s development committee, so she needed my approval for the permits. Here, take a look.”
She held out her phone.
Grace didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see proof that everything she’d feared was true. But her hand reached out anyway, taking the phone with fingers that had gone numb.
The email was there. Official letterhead. Erika’s name at the bottom.
Dear Ms. Warren,
On behalf of Reese Spencer, I’m reaching out regarding the Maple Inn property on Solace Lake.
Mr. Spencer is interested in acquiring the property for excavation purposes related to historical Spencer family artifacts.
We’ll be requesting permits for demolition and ground excavation once the purchase is finalized.
We understand this is sensitive given the inn’s historical significance to Solace Springs, and Mr. Spencer is prepared to make substantial donations to the town’s historical society and community development fund in exchange for expedited approval.
Please let me know your availability to discuss the details and please keep this strictly confidential for now.
Best regards,
Erika Wei
Executive Assistant to Reese Spencer
The words swam in front of Grace’s eyes. Demolition. Excavation. Expedited approval.
Reese was going to tear the inn down.
Everything he’d said about the inn being perfect for her vision, about her deserving it more than him, about maybe sharing it…it was all lies. All manipulation.
She looked up at Victoria, who was watching her with a faux sympathetic look.
“You didn’t know,” Victoria said softly. “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. I assumed—well, I thought maybe you two had worked out some kind of arrangement.”
An arrangement. Right. Because of course that was what this was. She was never random. She was a means to an end. A local who could help smooth things over with the town’s residents, who could be charmed and distracted while Reese worked his real plan behind the scenes.
Get close to Grace. Make her trust him. Make her fall for him.
Make a grand display in front of people in the local café, like he did the day before, so word got around what a great guy he was.
What a wonderful owner he’d be for the inn.
And then what? Convince her to back out of her bid?
Convince the Blackwells that Reese was the better option?
God, she was so stupid.
The tower. The British pub setup. The ten dresses and the diamonds and the way he looked at her like she was something precious—
All of it. Every moment. Every touch. Every kiss.
A lie.
“I have to go,” Grace said, shoving the phone back at Victoria.
“Grace—”
But she was already moving, pushing through the crowd, her heels clicking against the marble floor.
She pulled them off, damn things, and continued running in her tights.
She didn’t know where she was going. Just away.
Away from Victoria’s pitying smile. Away from the ballroom full of people who belonged here in a way she never would.
Away from Reese and his perfect tux and his perfect lies.
She made it to the lobby, her breath coming too fast, her vision blurring at the edges. The doorman looked at her with concern but she waved him off, stumbling toward the exit.
The Seattle evening air hit her like a slap: cold and sharp and real. Grace sucked in a breath, then another, trying to calm the panic rising in her chest.
She’d known. Some part of her had known from the beginning that this was too good to be true. That for men like Reese Spencer, there was always an angle, always a reason, always something more going on beneath the surface.
She’d just been too much of an idiot to listen.
She had to get away from this place. Needed to be back in the comfort of Solace Springs.
Didn’t care how much it cost. She looked around the unfamiliar Seattle street.
She had no idea where she was. No idea how to get back to Solace Springs.
No money for a cab or a bus or anything else because all she had was this stupid tiny clutch.
But she knew one thing for certain: She was done with Reese Spencer.