I shake my head. "He doesn't care about community. He doesn't care about history. He just cares about profit."
"Maybe," Tessa allows. "Maybe he cares about different things than you do."
I want to argue. I want to walk out. But I keep thinking about that storefront. About the kids who could have a safe place to read. About proving that small, beautiful things can survive in a city that keeps choosing scale over soul.
I stand up, suddenly needing space, needing air. "I can't do this. Not with him."
Tessa stands as well, no pressure in her posture, no disappointment in her face. "I understand."
She hands me a simple, cream-colored business card. It has just her name and a phone number.
"If you change your mind, call me. But Rosanna—I need an answer soon, or we'll have to move forward with other options."
I take the card, my hand shaking slightly. "Why such a short timeline?"
"Because our client's situation is urgent," Tessa says simply. "And because you're the best match we have. By a significant margin."
She walks me to the door, her manner still warm, still kind.
"Think about it. Talk to your friend. But whatever you decide, make sure it's your choice."
I nod numbly and walk back to the waiting area. Luna takes one look at my face and stands immediately, linking her arm through mine. We don't speak until we're outside, standing on the sidewalk with the city moving around us in its usual indifferent rush.
"Well?" Luna finally asks.
"They want to match me with Seamus O'Malley."
Luna's eyes go wide. "The building-killing billionaire with the villain jawline?"
"The same."
"And you said—"
"No. Obviously." I press my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the headache building behind them. "It's insane, Luna. I can't marry someone I actively despise."
Luna is quiet for a moment. Then: "How much did they offer?"
I tell her. She whistles low. "That's... that's life-changing money, Ro."
"I know."
"That's save-the-building, fund-the-programs, prove-your-point money."
"I know." My voice cracks slightly.
Luna pulls me into a hug, right there on the sidewalk. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you. But just... think about it. Really think about it. Not about him. About what you could do with that kind of support."
I nod against her shoulder. But all I can think about is Seamus O'Malley's cold blue eyes and the way he dismissed everything I said without even flinching.
How could I possibly marry someone like that?
The clock is ticking. And I still don't know what I'm going to do.
Chapter five
Seamus
There’s a boy at school who smiles at me. But I don’t know if he likes me or just likes that I laugh at his jokes. Is that the same thing? How do you know if someone really likes you? —Anna (Age 13)
