my empty glass.
She laughs, a tinkling sound. “Thank you. Anyway, it’s a good place to eavesdrop on people. That’s probably why Damon started a bar in the first place. He sells information.”
“I don’t suppose you’re looking to get into the information business?” I ask Christopher hopefully, even though I wouldn’t like him half as much if he did. He operates on his own code of honor, which is warped and broken but comes from a good place.
“Fashion and trendy electronics at a high markup would be preferable.”
“I could buy it from you,” I say, which suddenly seems like the best idea. “It would be my personal library, so it follows the rules of the trust fund. And I’d give you whatever you paid for it. More, even. So it would still make money for you.”
“That’s assuming I would sell it to you,” he says, almost gently now. That’s what’s different about him. There’s no derision in his expression. Less coldness in his voice. He’s almost, almost human. And he sounds apologetic, as if he wished he didn’t have to disappoint me.
“I’m not going to beg.” Mostly because I know it won’t do any good with him. I’ve already tried that, when I was far more desperate than I am now.
“I’m not selling it, for many reasons. The location of the library was calculated based on many different factors. We won’t find another place ripe for gentrification like this one.”
“Why do you care so much about gentrification?”
“Because it’s going to make me a rich man.”
“If you had two million dollars to put into it, you’re already a rich man.”
“One million,” he says. “Sutton put in the other half. And a million dollars doesn’t make you a rich man in this economy. There’s more in the trust to maintain the damn yacht.”
“Good Lord. How much does it cost to wax the deck?”
Christopher gives me a half smile that looks so much like him as a college boy that my heart skips a beat. “That depends on how shiny you want it.”
“The library is a monument to knowledge and community and the irrepressible spirit of mankind. You can’t just tear it down and build a mall.”
“Malls are irrepressible. And profitable.”
There’s no way I can save the library. Failure makes my chest feel tight, which isn’t a totally new feeling. Especially when I’m in Christopher’s presence. Why do I always feel crushed when he walks away? And why do I keep seeking him out, even though I know how it will end?
I can’t save the library, but the worst part is I’m not sure I can save the mall project either. We would have to convince the historical society to let us build it.
Another cocktail appears in front of me, sent by the too-knowing Penny with sympathetic brown eyes. I take a large swallow of my cocktail, enough that even this top-shelf liquor makes my throat burn.
“You can use the office,” Christopher says. “Invite them over and show them the plans. I don’t mind letting them see, but I’m not going to change a damn thing.”
“There’s the spirit of compromise and community that will endear you to them.”
Penny shines a perfectly clean glass with a rag, managing to look conspicuous as she does it. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’ve met some of the women in the historical society.”
“Are you friends with them?” I ask hopefully.
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I like to think I know how they operate. And if you bring them into a boardroom and show them documents that are already drafted, they’re going to say no.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too. And the worst part is I don’t totally disagree with them. It’s a gorgeous building. It should be lovingly restored, not torn down for the land.”
Christopher gives me a dire look. “And Sutton asks why I don’t think it’s a good idea, you being our liaison with them. Maybe because you’re not on our side.”
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” I tell him, annoyed. “I’m on my own side. There’s only me on this side. You and Sutton, you’re not invited.”
A smile plays on Penny’s lips. “Did you hear about the show that’s come to the Grand? It’s sold out on Broadway, with limited tour dates, so it’s a coup that we got a stop. One night only. Tomorrow night.”
The implications run through me like warm water. Mrs. Rosemont may have asked to hear details about the project, but it won’t help to show them to her. Those councilmen