ME: Resting, but better.
MOM: How are you?
ME: Starting to breathe again.
MOM: Kids are resilient. Remember when you almost drowned?
I’d been fifteen, and Darren had saved me. It was how we’d met. He’d been new to town the summer before his senior year, and my friends and I had been watching him play volleyball on the beach with the other high school boys. The fact that I’d grown up in the water and still been knocked over by a wave had been embarrassing until he’d pulled me from the water with a naked muscled chest. I’d been a goner. Lost forever in his golden glow.
The bell on the store’s front door jingled, so I texted my mom that I had to go and headed down the stairs before the noise woke Hannah. Without Grams here to teach the music lessons, the store was pretty much drying up. The income coming in was nonexistent. If the music festival, or my art, didn’t bring in some cash soon, I was going to be in a world of financial hurt.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, there was a tall, handsome man in a suit waiting there. His dark eyes and black hair were silky and smooth against his pale skin. I recognized him vaguely from attending church on Sundays with Grams.
“Miss Morgan, I’m William Chan,” he said, coming forward with his hand outstretched.
I shook it. “You went to church with my grandmother.”
He smiled, and it was warm but cautious. “I attend a lot of churches.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that truth. “You do?”
His smile grew. “It’s a great way to build rapport with the members of the community.”
“Oh,” I said, still unsure how he expected me to react.
“I left you a message yesterday,” he told me.
I recalled the voicemail. “Yes.”
“Is now a bad time to talk about it?”
“You’re welcome to talk, but I’m afraid I’m not in a place to make any decisions,” I told him honestly.
He slid his hand over his tie and then put both hands in his pants pockets, leaning on the counter. There was a forced casualness to him, as if it was a cover he wore on the outside while, on the inside, he was a tiger ready to leap.
“I understand. It’s a difficult time, losing someone you love. But it’s also the time when you have to make decisions about their property. About this property.” He looked around the dust-filled room.
“It’s hard for me to believe Grams would even consider selling you the store. It was her life. She’s been right here in the center of town for sixty-plus years.”
He gave a curt nod. “That’s exactly it. She’s the center of Main Street. A street the city council and I are trying very hard to bring into the twenty-first century. This space could be used much more effectively going forward. Antiques and ancient music stores are the way of the past. We need trendy, farm-to-market restaurants for the tourists and coffee shops with poets’ nights for the college kids. We need to secure the economic future of our downtown area.”
I frowned, remembering a discussion with Grams after she’d attended a council meeting. The new mayor was all about remaking Grand Orchard, but the shop owners who’d been there for decades, if not centuries, were fighting the action plan.
“You’re working with Mayor Sanchez?”
He nodded. “I’m one of the city council members. Regan and I have a vision for Grand Orchard that will ensure its continued success. She’s the most driven, responsible mayor we’ve seen in decades.”
The tone of respect in his voice did nothing for the increasing wave of irritation growing inside me, because this man had told me Grams was considering selling, and now I knew it to be a lie.
“My grandmother wasn’t considering selling to you. So why did you tell me that?”
He hesitated. “It’s true she’d turned me down. But we were still trying to negotiate. I knew she was having a hard time. She hadn’t paid the property taxes in over a year. She’d missed a loan payment. She’d needed an out.”
“How could you know that?” I asked, the burning sensation in my chest only growing.
“As I said on the phone, I’m president of Platinum Bank and Trust. My family owns the bank and her loan.”
Grams had paidoff the original mortgage on the space years ago, but she’d taken out a small loan to redo the roof at the same time she’d added the skylight to my studio. Looking at the loan over the last few days, I could see she’d used it to pay some small credit card debt and outstanding bills from her suppliers as well. Not to mention the instruments she’d bought for the high school.
