The Millionaire's Proposal (20 page)

The only thing he wanted so badly at the moment was her. Nothing else. But he didn’t know how to breach the ever-widening chasm between them, didn’t know how to shake the defensive emotions that gripped him inside.

Tears filled her eyes, but she valiantly blinked them back. “If you want to be respected and accepted in this community, then you need to do something
respectable
. And until you figure out a way to do that, I’ll be living at the cottage.”

His hands clenched into fists at his side. “You’re my wife, Grace,” he said, emotions harshening the tone of his voice. “And I want you here, where you belong.”

“And you’re my husband, Ford, and I need to trust you,” she whispered as one fat tear spilled out of the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek. “Right now, I don’t.”

This time, when she stepped around him, he let her go, knowing there was nothing else he could say or do to stop her from leaving.

As he heard the front door close softly behind her, he was struck with the realization that for all he’d gained, he’d just lost the single-most important thing in his life.

His wife
.

F
ord scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling the burn of a two day stubble against his palm. It had been that long since Grace had left him, and he’d spent both days holed up in his office at the back of the house, spending his time between taking calls from his estimator who worked out of the office in Richmond, and pouring over the proposed plans he’d developed for the property he’d coveted for so many years.

The land was now his. He thought he’d feel vindicated somehow, since one of the establishments on that property was the cause of so many awful memories for him. But his triumph was over-shadowed by the parting comment Grace had made to him.
If you want to be respected and accepted in this community, then you need to do something respectable
.

Her words haunted him, as did the thought of losing Grace forever.

He stared at the blue prints spread out on his drafting table in front of him. Two months ago, he’d been pleased with the design and layout of the new structure he’d planned to build in town, envisioning so many opportunities for new businesses and jobs in Whitaker Falls. He’d been optimistic, and so very hopeful that his plans would appeal to the vast majority of the community. Now, he saw his ideas through Grace’s eyes, the demolishing of thriving businesses, and destroying the livelihood of so many people who’d worked hard to gain security for themselves, and their families.

All these years he’d thought only of himself and what he’d gain with this acquisition—peace and closure to a haunting past. Buying the property had been a personal decision, as well as a business one, but he was struggling with a compromise that would benefit the businesses already established on the property, and his own internal goals.

He wanted After Hours gone, wanted to tear down the ramshackle bar that had sucked the life out of his mother, which in turn had destroyed his youth. He couldn’t offer a concession on that issue, but as he spent another two hours perusing the blueprints that sketched out the theater he’d planned to build, along with over a dozen other modern shops, he came to the conclusion that there was no reason why the other businesses had to suffer the same fate.

An idea formed in his mind, a
respectable
proposition certain to appeal to all parties involved. But first, he needed to make changes to the blueprints, then he needed a sketched rendition of what he had in mind so there would be no misconstruing what he intended.

With a glimmer of excitement, he picked up the phone and dialed the number of the architect who’d originally designed the new structure. Hopefully, by the end of the following week he’d have the respect of the town, and his wife back at home where she belonged.

“Why do you suppose Ford is calling a meeting here at Whitaker Towne Square?” Darcy asked, peering out Grace and Charm’s front windows to the crowd gathering in front of the small platform set up in the middle of the plaza.

The ache in Grace’s heart that she’d been carrying with her for almost two weeks, since the day she’d left Ford, increased in pressure. “I’m sure he’s going to let everyone know what he plans to do with the property that’s now his.”

Darcy gave her a pained look. “Let’s hope the crowd doesn’t decide to lynch him.”

Looking out at the sea of angry faces waiting for Ford to arrive, Grace could only nod in agreement. She presumed this formal gathering was Ford’s way of confirming the rumors that had been circulating about his agenda to tear down the entire structure, and to build a new center. That bit of speculation had been met with open hostility and opposition, not that Ford had been around to endure the town’s animosity. He’d been smart, and had kept himself scarce. Indeed, he hadn’t even made any effort to contact her, which only confirmed that he intended to follow through with his original plans.

The realization caused a wave of misery to well up in her throat.

The flyers that had been distributed to every home and business in Whitaker Falls had certainly done their job in drawing out the citizens of the town. A few hundred people packed the courtyard, and the crowd was beginning to get restless.

Grace glanced at her wristwatch, which revealed there was only five minutes to go until the meeting started. She released a sigh of resignation. “I guess we should go join them and see what he has to say.”

Darcy nodded solemnly. Together, they walked outside, standing at the very back of the assemblage. Right on time, Ford arrived, stepping from his car with a large, thick presentation board in his hands. He made his way up to the platform and set the board on the easel sitting next to the podium.

The upset congregation had no qualms expressing their displeasure of the man they believed would destroy a part of their town for his own gain, and Grace couldn’t blame them for being so irate, because she was equally so. Everyone knew she was opposed to Ford’s plans, that she supported the tenant’s rights to keep their businesses.

He tapped on the microphone to quiet down the buzz of conversation filtering through the crowd. He appeared nervous standing in front of so many incensed people, but there was also a quiet confidence about him that made Grace wonder what he intended.

“Before you start jumping to conclusions that aren’t necessarily true, I want you all to hear me out, until the end.” His voice was strong, and polished, exhibiting just how far he’d come from the underprivileged kid he’d been. “First off, I do want to clarify that my company, FZM, Inc. is now the new property owner of the strip of stores that used to belong to Hank’s father.”

Grumbling and grousing could be heard from some of the crowd, but overall everyone listened intently to Ford, wanting to hear what he had to say.

His gaze scanned the audience as if searching for someone—
her
? Grace wondered—but he remained focused on his speech. “When I first made the decision to return to Whitaker Falls, I did so for the sole purpose of returning where my roots are. I’d grown up here, and my grandfather owned Cutter Creek, which should have been mine. Things didn’t work out the way I’d hoped as a kid, but then I wasn’t given the chance to absolve myself of the stigma I’d lived with all my life.” There was no bitterness in his tone, just a statement of fact. “I wanted to come back to Whitaker Falls and make a difference in this town.”

“By putting people out of business?” A deep male voice hollered angrily from the crowd.

“What I’m proposing won’t put the main establishments out of business,” he said, bracing his hands on the podium. “If anything, what I’ve decided to do should draw more attention to those existing businesses, and help them out.”

Grace noticed that Ford had certainly piqued everyone’s interest, including hers.

“I’d like to take a poll, if I could.” Again, his gaze searched the hundreds of faces peering up at him. “How many of you want After Hours to remain in this town?”

The only hands that rose were the few patrons that frequented the disreputable establishment, which seemed to please Ford. The vote was clearly on his side, and he took advantage of it.

“I’m tearing down After Hours,” he told the residents of Whitaker Falls, and wasn’t met with much protest on that issue. “And in its place I’m building a new ten-cinema theater and a Steakhouse with a lounge and dance floor, to replace After Hours.”

Excited murmurs rippled throughout the throng of people, and Darcy said to Grace, “You have to admit that Whitaker Falls could use a new theater and restaurant, not to mention the employment opportunities those new businesses would offer people.”

Grace nodded her agreement.

“What about the other businesses that are presently there?” someone spoke up, asking the question that had been lingering in Grace’s mind. The fate of those other shops, after all, was the main concern of so many.

“As for the other establishments that are currently on that strip, I’ll be giving them a structural face-lift to match the new architecture of the FZM Center.” Moving to the easel next to the podium, he turned the presentation board around, which revealed a preliminary sketch depicting a modernized building including the proposed theater and restaurant, and noting the existing shops in bold, black type. “All the shops will be able to remain open during renovations, so no one should lose any business.”

The general consensus of the audience was support for Ford’s presentation, and gratitude for his ingenuity and consideration. A sense of pride filled Grace, that her husband had managed to strike a balance between what he’d wanted, and what was in the town’s best interest.

“You’re a good man, Ford McCabe!”

Grace recognized the voice as Marie’s, though she couldn’t see the woman in the swarm of people in front of her. Up on the platform, Ford’s expression softened and he smiled. Grace wondered if he realized in that moment that he’d gained the acceptance and respect he’d craved for so long.

Gradually, like a slow rolling wave, everyone started to clap, the resounding applause echoing Marie’s approval. With tears filling Grace’s eyes, and emotions crowding her chest, she made her way through the attendees and up to Ford on the platform. He watched her as she approached, his gaze hopeful, his expression so achingly vulnerable that she
knew
this man she’d adored for so long had finally made peace with his past, and was ready to embrace the future awaiting him.

He didn’t care that everyone witnessed this very sentimental moment between them, and his tenderness endeared him to her even more. She stood less than a foot away from him, and though they were surrounded by hundreds of people, for her the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

“Thank you,” she said, the two simple words holding an abundance of meaning. That simple statement expressed her appreciation for the admirable man he’d become, for making respectable choices, and mostly for sacrificing something so important to him, yet gaining so much more as a result.

He understood. “I did it for you, as much as I did it for us, and our daughter.”

Certain she couldn’t contain the overwhelming emotions bubbling up in her, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping them both in a fierce hug.

“Don’t believe a word he says about that piece of property he bought!” Grace’s father’s angry voice intruded on the private moment, shattering it.

Ford let her go, and she found her father out in the crowd instantly because everyone else had turned to look at Ellis Holbrook, making him the center of attention. His face was red with fury, his features creased with loathing. And all that live, seething energy was directed at Ford.

“He’s only telling you what you want to hear,” Ellis went on, taking advantage of the quiet that had settled in the courtyard. “Don’t you remember what he did to this town eleven years ago? He destroyed lives, and he’ll do it again.”

Nobody said anything, though the shocked expressions Grace saw on various faces spoke volumes. An awful premonition swirled through Grace, that her father was out to extract his own brand of vengeance toward Ford, and she couldn’t allow him to disgrace himself, or the respectable man Ford had become.