Bethany lookedfrom Hank to the white-brick colonial house. Someone had turned the porch light on in anticipation of their arrival.
“You bought it?”
He nodded. “It once belonged to my grandparents. They built it. I’d like to show it to you.”
Louis held the door open, and she slid from the car.
“This is amazing.” She studied the large house. Four wrought-iron pillars lined the front porch, which was built on a brick foundation. All the windows contained shutters, and stone steps led to the porch with an iron railing on either side. A roof with a large chimney covered the porch, and it looked like a small dormer topped the roof. She couldn’t see much beyond that in the dark.
“I stayed here for a month during the summers I visited my grandparents as a kid. Let me show you the inside.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her along, his excitement as contagious as a child on Christmas morning.
The inside was even more impressive. The front room contained shiny wooden floors and a wide staircase that led to the upper level.
“Follow me.” He flicked on a light switch and led her through a small kitchen. Built-in cabinetry that someone had painted olive green lined the walls. A black and white checkerboard tile decorated the floor.
Hank pointed to the side wall. “A back staircase used to be in here, but the next owner must have removed it. I would sneak down the steps on warm summer nights when I couldn’t sleep and hang out on the screened-in porch, where I could catch a breeze.”
“It’s wonderful and so quaint. You must have really loved it here.”
Hank opened the door onto a long porch, which wrapped around the side of the house. The smell of roses kissed the air. “I did. Come with me. There’s more.”
And then he was pulling her into the family room, which had a large front window and was lined by built-in bookshelves. To the side, an oversized stone fireplace dominated the space.
“Grandpa told me these stones were pulled from the lake. He and his brother built the fireplace by hand. They also poured the sidewalk out front.” Pride rang in Hank’s voice.
Bethany rubbed a hand across the massive stones. “They must have been some craftsmen.”
“Grandpa knew his way around a toolbox. I feel close to him fixing up yourbuilding.”
She liked how he saidyourbuilding and notmybuilding. “What did he think of his grandson becoming a television star?”
Hank turned and laid a hand on the mantel, so she couldn’t read the expression on his face. “I’ll never know. He had a heart attack shortly before I got the role that made me famous. I never got to tell him. I didn’t even know he hadn’t been feeling well.”
She touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Hank. I’m sure he would have been proud of you. But he didn’t leave you or your parents the house?”
Hank sighed and the sound carried a world of disappointment. “He left it to my mom, but when she died suddenly, and it ended up in my hands, turns out there was a loophole in her will that allowed my dad to claim it. He sold it for cash and didn’t tell me.”
“That’s awful. Did you try to buy it back?”
“Yes, but by the time I found out, the new owners had already lived in the house for six months. They loved the house and the neighborhood and refused to sell to me. I’ve had a realtor watching the house ever since, in case it came on the market. The day I was late to meet you for dinner—that was the day I found out it was for sale. I had my assistant make a cash offer. Yesterday, the owners accepted and agreed I could come here tonight to show you around.”
“That’s why you were late?”
“I was late because I was exhausted and overslept. But when I woke, I got the call, which distracted me. I had to talk to my financial advisor about making repairs to the building.”
“I wish you’d told me that’s one of the reasons you were late that night.”
He swiveled toward her and grasped her hand. “Thisplace is special to me. I wasn’t quite up to telling you about it—wasn’t even sure it would be mine. Besides, would it have made a difference? You were already worked up about the interview, remember?”
Looking into his eyes, she couldn’t lie. “Probably not. But what will you do with it now that it’s yours?”
Hank shrugged. “I don’t know. Clean it, I suppose. Host a party for my friends.”
“Oh.” Bethany could picture Hank in all his glory, his Hollywood friends coming to Cleveland for the night to party and then jet-setting out again in the morning.
“You really shouldn’t look at me like that.”
