The Restoration of Celia Fairchild - Marie Bostwick Page 0,52
exactly what you’d be paying before we break ground.” He chuckled. “Can’t say that about your restoration project, can you?”
No, I couldn’t. Only the day before, Lorne had informed me that the damage to the chimney was worse than we’d thought and repairing it would cost an extra thirteen hundred dollars.
“But how can you afford this?” I asked. “You’ll be losing out on a whole year’s rent, plus the chance to make a profit on one of the condos.”
“I’ll make my profits, don’t you worry,” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “People will be willing to pay whatever I ask for the chance to live downtown. And it’ll be worth it. I’ve been waiting years to do a project like this, to move away from renovations and rentals into high-end new construction. Cabot Court will put me on the map.
“Think of it,” he continued, leaning forward once again, placing both of his big hands on the table. “You’ll have a brand-new, modern condo with no headaches and no upkeep in a great neighborhood, a wonderful place to raise a baby, and a big chunk of change in the bank. So? What do you say?”
A brand-new, fourteen-hundred-square-foot condo? Two bedrooms and two baths? With parking?
Back in New York, that was the kind of place I dreamed about but knew I could never afford. To have such a thing with no mortgage and money in the bank besides was beyond the boundaries of any dream I could have conjured. A few weeks ago, I’d have jumped at his offer.
Now I was hesitating. Because this wasn’t just about me.
How would Felicia and Beau, and even cranky old Mr. Laurens, feel about having six new, ultramodern condominiums built on the street they’d spent their lives on? And what about Caroline and Heath? They’d shown up on my doorstep with cookies and concern and helping hands. We were connected now, all of us. Yes, it was my house but it was our neighborhood. If Cabot James had his way, it would never be the same. And how would Calpurnia and Beebee have felt about seeing the place where generations of Fairchilds had lived bulldozed to make room for Cabot Court? Taking his offer would mean erasing my family’s history.
And yet . . . A home. A baby. A means to provide for her. A family.
It was everything I’d always wanted and incredibly tempting. The look on Cabot’s face told me that he understood exactly how tempting.
I’d seen that look before. It was the same look that Dan McKee had on his face when he dropped the box with the bracelet into my lap, the look of a man who is one hundred percent certain that, for the right price, everything and everyone is for sale.
Chapter Seventeen
So you really turned him down?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wow. How very George Bailey of you.”
Calvin knew me so well, maybe too well.
It was true: the scene where George turns down the job, and the money, and the cigar, and then takes Mr. Potter to school, telling him that money can’t buy everything, before storming out of the odious old man’s office, had indeed flashed through my mind when I told Cabot James, once and for all, that my house was not for sale, not at any price.
The shock and disbelief that registered on his face when he realized he hadn’t gotten his way had been extremely satisfying. He sputtered and blustered and all but shook his fist at me, telling me I was making a big mistake, that I had no idea what I was getting myself into or who I was up against. It bothered me not at all. The house was mine, free and clear, and there was nothing he could do about it.
(Take that Mr. Potter, you scurvy little spider! And you too, Dan McKee!)
I lobbed my paper cup into the trash on my way out the door and gave Teddy a cheery wave.
I walked out the door, strode down the sidewalk with the swagger of a prizefighter who’s just scored a knockout, then pulled my cell phone out of my bag and called Calvin, certain that he would not only approve of my decision but award me style points for delivery. But now . . .
“You think I made a mistake?”
Calvin sucked in his breath and held it for what seemed like a very long time, then let it out in a