For Richer for Poorer (6 page)

Chapter 13

             
Its was after midnight when they woke, hungry. The Chinese food on the kitchen counter was a welcomed sight. Hamilton sat at the little round kitchen table in his boxer shorts as Miranda pulled down plates from the kitchen cabinets.

              "You're incredible, " he said staring at her.

              "You're pretty incredible yourself."

              "Come here," he said, coming up behind her.  He turned her to him and kissed her on the lips. He held her in his arms and sighed.

              They sat up eating, talking and drinking wine until well after 2:00 a.m. She told him about her parents, what it was like growing up in the mountains, her time in California. He asked about her past relationship and she told him about James.  They talked about her business and her plans to get a job, save and start over again.

              She learned all about his family, his younger sister, who was also a real estate investor, and lived up North. He told her about his parents, who had passed away several years ago. He told her about everything, except about his family's wealth and his pending inheritance. 

              When he told her about Steele Development, she winced. The mood changed.

              "Why would you demolish older homes and build these mega mansions that people don't even spend any time in?"

              "It's progress," he said. "Things change, Miranda. As a developer, I'm simply giving people what they want."

              "But what about the mostly older people, on fixed incomes, who live in these communities. You know, most of them have been pushed out because they were the victims of unscrupulous lending practices. HELOCs with ARMS that doubled their payments on homes that were practically paid off before they swooped in like vultures."

              "My company had nothing to do with that. We bought distressed homes and rehabbed them or knocked them down. Simple.  We only built homes people were asking for. I can't be blamed for predatory lending. I was a builder, still am, and will continue on my path. Change in older communities brings about better systems, commerce, jobs. I can't be blamed for rogue lending," he said.

              "But you have a responsibility as a professional in the industry."

              "To whom?" he asked.

              "To your neighbors!" she snapped.

              "I have a responsibility to my bottom line. If I didn't build homes, homes that people with money will buy, I'd be out of business."

              "You're out of business anyway," she hastily pointed out. 

              "And so are you, Ms. Colbert," he shot back. "So are you."

              She threw him a dagger with her eyes. If she thought she could get away with it, she would reach over and slap his handsome face.

              Hamilton regretted having said that the minute it came out of his mouth.  He couldn't tell her about the assisted living developments he builds in each neighborhood he
demolishes,
as she so fiercely phrased it.               He couldn't tell her that each home he purchases is being bought because its owners have been the victim of predatory lending. He couldn't tell her he helps the elderly through his philanthropic foundation, an organization that helps distressed seniors move to modern dwellings in their same communities at no cost.

              The charitable foundation is the venture he's most proud of, but it's
not
one that a poor man could fund. She'd have to learn about that later, after she agreed to marry him.

              "Miranda, let's not do this," he sighed.  "We can agree to disagree."

              She didn't hear him. "Before that couple moved in next door, years ago, Mr. Carey lived there.  He was a kind old man.  I can not imagine him not saying good morning, or how are you today? Neighbors today barely know each other."

              "Your neighbors spoke today," he said, remembering the couple that waved to them.

              "I assumed they knew you," she said.

              "I do know them. I designed their home. They used one of my early building plans," he said.

              "Well that explains why they spoke," she said. "My point is neighborhoods are changing, and it's not for the better. And investing strategies like yours are contributing to it."

              "You know, I tried to buy this cottage, years ago, through one of my scouts," he said. "But the owner, you," he laughed, "wouldn't sell. If I'd have known the owner was this sexy, I'd have come by personally." He tried to lighten the mood.

              "Well I'm glad I didn't sell it now that I know it was you," she pouted.

              "I'm still interested, you know," he said. "After I get on my feet, the offer still stands."

              Her eyes were flaming. "You're impossible, Hamilton Steele."

              "I know," he said, reaching over to touch her mouth. 

              "We're not finished with this conversation," she said.

              "Yes we are," he said. She knew he was serious. 

              He stood up and reached for her, drawing her into his arms.  His bare chest felt good.  He led her down the hall to the bedroom. They made love until the early morning and fell asleep in each others arms.

Chapter 14

              One Saturday evening in October, a few of months later, after Hamilton finished installing insulation in the attic, he pulled Miranda down on the couch into his arms.  She had been on her new property specialist job for a couple of months and was working a few nights a week in a closing attorney's office for extra money. They had grown close, but were spending less and less time together with her schedule. He missed her, and when they were together, her focus was on saving enough to get Colbert and Company back up and running.

              "Now, let's talk about this business of yours and your plans to get it back on its feet," he said.

              "I know that tone," she said. "What are you up to?"

              Hamilton had been a great help to her over the months. He often showed up with supplies and equipment, out of the blue, and did work on the property whenever he had a spare minute. He wouldn't accept a thing from her, but her love. That was easy; she'd fallen head over hills for him, but was afraid to give him her heart. After all, she'd never been invited to his place. There was still so much she didn't know about him.

              "What if you didn't have to work?"

              "What do you mean?" she asked.

              He sighed, more sure than ever he'd ask her to marry him. He loved her fire, her knowledge, her willingness to do anything to make her dreams come true, her heart. She'd make a fine wife and fine mother of his children.

              "Never mind," he said, smiling, studying her face.  "It's late, let's go to bed."               He stood up and reached for her hand. She followed him to the bedroom and let him cradle her naked body in his arms. As she began to doze off, she felt his hands circling her nipples and his manhood growing hard behind her. She knew he needed her; she needed him too. She turned to him and let him fill her with his passion. She'd fallen in love with Hamilton Steele, in just a few short months. She couldn't imagine her world without him.

              After a little while, they lay awake in each others arms.

              "Miranda?"

              "Hmmm," she said.

              "I want you to come out to my home tomorrow."

              "Okay," she said, wondering why he'd taken so long to ask. She drifted off to sleep to dreams of a cute little dribbling baby boy, wearing a yellow hard hat and a too-big tool belt draped around his chubby belly.

Chapter 15

              Early Sunday morning, they woke and drove Hamilton's truck down the long back road to Antioch Reservoir. Miranda had put on her slender biking pants and a long-sleeved workout shirt. The morning air was cool; she regretted not bringing a jacket. She could feel the seasons changing. Hamilton said they'd stop by his house first, so he could change before they went to the park to exercise.  He said he'd have lunch prepared for them at his home after they worked out.

             
Lunch
prepared?

              It was so pretty driving down Antioch Road. The lane narrowed and became dense with still-flowering trees as they neared the water in the distance. When Hamilton turned the truck into the long driveway leading to his home, she opened her mouth.

              "Why are we stopping here?" she asked. "Client?"

              "No," he said and pressed some buttons on his dash to open the tall wrought-iron security gate. "It's my home."

              Miranda's eyes were wide in disbelief as Hamilton drove the winding road to the top of the hill.

              "You're kidding?" she said, taking in the stone house that looked more like a country club than one home.

              "No, I'm not." He looked at her, falling more in love as each second passed.

              In a few short months, things had finally turned around.  He'd landed financing for a deal he'd been eyeing further south of Harper's Valley for a long time. He would begin breaking ground  on a new project before the holidays. It would be a mixed use development, with town homes, singe family dwellings and commercial spaces, targeting working people over 55. And he knew just the person to oversee tenant development.

              As they stopped in the circular driveway of his palatial home, a white-gloved butler opened the door.

              "Good morning, Mr. Steele," the old man said, coming down to greet his boss.

              "Good morning, Solomon," Hamilton said, hugging him like a relative instead of an employee. Solomon had been with the family since Hamilton was a boy.

              "How was your time off?"

              "Lovely, lovely. Me and the misses enjoyed Amelia Island. Felt like we were on our honeymoon again.  Thank you for your gesture in letting us use the beach house."

              "Any time, any time. You tell Ms. Pearl I said hello, you hear?"

              "I sure will," he said.

              Miranda could overhear them as she got out of the truck.   How could he maintain a home like this -- and beach property on the Atlantic to boot? She knew Hamilton was working on getting his business back on track, but there was no way he could afford this place. The upkeep alone …

              "Solomon, I want you to meet someone," Hamilton said.

              The old butler gave him a look that asked if she would be the one.  Hamilton smiled and raised his eyebrows in affirmation.

              "Miranda, this is Solomon. He runs the house," Hamilton said.

              The old man had kind eyes.  "Nice to meet you," she smiled and shook his hands.

              "Welcome to Steele Manor," the butler said.

              Steele Manor had a nice ring to it, she thought.

              As they entered the tall, wooden doors, Miranda took in the grandeur around her. Solomon led her to the parlor as Hamilton scaled the stairs to change clothes.

              "You're in good hands," he hollered back. "Ill be right down."

              "Right this way, miss," the butler said.  He gestured to a plush seating area that overlooked the grounds.

              "Can I get you something to drink, miss?" he offered.

              "No, I'm fine, thank you," she said.  "And you can call me Miranda," she said with respect. 

              "Okay, Miss Miranda," he smiled and almost nodded.  "I'm right in here should you need anything at all." He pointed  toward the door that must have led to the kitchen and excused himself.

              Miranda's eyes were drawn beyond the marble-filled, chandeliered parlor, to the mesmerizing view in the distance. The glistening, organ-shaped pool seemed to spill right into the reservoir. The property was huge. Through the floor-to-ceiling back windows, she could see the other wing of the house which sat as part of the stone building's horseshoe curve. Rolling hills could be seen for acres in the distance to the left of the cluster of matching buildings that made up Steele Manor.

              She couldn't believe this was her handyman.  Miranda knew there had been more to Hamilton Steele than he had let on, but she had no idea he was a wealthy man.

              After a few minutes, Hamilton bounded down the staircase. He was dressed in black biker shorts and a black Nike t-shirt with a white windbreaker. "Ready?" he asked, handing her a matching windbreaker.

              "Yes," she said, eyes full of questions.

              "I'll give you a tour after our workout, before lunch."

              She headed for the truck when they got outside, but he guided her toward the woody path near the side of the house.

              "This way," he said. "Almost birthday girl."

              "Don't remind me," she said. Her 35
th
birthday was the following Saturday.

              The honeysuckle-filled path led them directly into the pristine park that overlooked the reservoir.

              "Go ahead," he said. "Ask."

              "Ask what?" she  said.

              "Whatever you want. I see those pretty eyes full of questions." He had come to learn her over the past few months.  Leaning against one of the wooden picnic tables, he pulled her between his legs and smiled.

              "I know you told me about your business, but I also know real estate."

              "Yes?"

              "And I know what these homes are valued at," she said, trying to figure it all out as she talked.

              "Go on," he said.

              "Who are you Hamilton?" she asked.

              He looked into her eyes. "I'm your handyman," he smiled.

              "I'm serious." She started to pull away, agitated.

              He pulled her back to him and turned her face to look at his. "And I'm also the man who has fallen madly in love with you, Miranda Colbert."

              His powerful stare would not allow her to turn away. And the love in his eyes consumed her, commanded her to believe in him, as his body had done over and over again the past few months.

              "I've waited my whole life to feel what I feel for you."

              "Hamilton --"

              "Yes?" he asked.

              She'd loved him from the night he'd come into the laundry room and kissed her tears, the night they made love, but she was afraid of letting go, being hurt again. "This is all so fast, Hamilton," she said.

              "Life is fast, and I've lived it that way. Now I'm ready to settle down. I know what I want, and it's you. And I know what you need, Miranda -- and it's me.  We belong together. You know it as well as I do. Will you have me?"

              "What are you asking?"

              Pulling a little velvet box from his jacket pocket, Hamilton got down on one knee. He took the glistening diamond encased in silver out of the jewelry box and handed it to her.

              "Will you spend the rest of your life with me, Miranda Colbert? Will you be my wife?"

              Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the ring and back at him.   Her mouth was open.

              "That's a yes or a no, woman," he teased.

              Miranda studied the kind, handsome man staring back at her and smiled.

              "Yes," she said. Tears were rolling down her face.

"Yes, I'll marry you." 
             

              Hamilton pulled her to him and held her in the only place she belonged -- his arms, forever.  

The End