“One, my mom hasn’t sold the park yet. And two, the proposed project is in the planning stages—I still have time, and possibly some influence, to change it. I promise, I was planning on talking to you about it this morning, but you were gone.”
“And you—you were the charm offensive sent to win me over, weren’t you?” She sits down on the bench next to me, but not too close. “I feel so dumb.” She puts her head in her hands.
“No—it was nothing like that,” I say. “It’s more likeyouwonmeover.”
“Cut the flattery.”
“It’s not flattery. I’m being honest. I want to make this work. I don’t have a lot of sway with my mom, but I have some. I’ve only been here a short time, and I can already see that no one loves or cares about this place as much as you do. You said you had ideas. I want to hear them.”
“It’s probably a waste of my morning,” she lets out a huff of air. “But after dedicating my entire working life to this park, I’m not going to roll over and let you and your family destroy it.”
“That’s the last thing I want to do, I promise”
“Sorry if I don’t believe a businessman when he says he doesn’t want to make piles of money.”
“You’re not wrong. But I think there’s a way to make this work for everyone. Improve returns without losing what makes Norland Park special.”
“And maybe you could cut the crap.”
“I’m serious. Please, Elinor—show me your vision for the park. And I will do everything I can to make it happen.”
She gives me an incredulous look and then one brief business-like nod.
“Fine, let’s go.”
“Great—thank you.” I jog a little to catch up with her. “Hey, do you really think I’m charming?” She gives me a very adorably annoyed look. “You did call me ‘the charm offensive.’”
She rolls her eyes. “Follow me.”
I’ve just made an impossible promise to this woman which will likely jettison my career and hurt my relationship with my mom. And yet, following Elinor down a shady trail, I’ve never felt lighter.
His behaviour gave every indication of an open affectionate heart. —Sense and Sensibility
11
Elinor
I tell myself that I’m taking Edward on this tour to save Norland Park, but deep down I know I’m giving this tour because I want more time with him. It’s so stupid—nothing good can come of more time together, but here we are.
My initial plan this morning was to cancel the promised tour at the last minute. But from the moment I saw his irritatingly handsome face in the cafe, he’s been systematically chipping away at my resistance. He rebuffed my frostiness with his laid-back, disarming smile—then he complimented me on my hand-drawn menus (which I’ve always secretly been proud of). The cherry on top is how friendly and cute he was with his teammate and daughter. Few guys think to give their friends baby gifts. How sweet is that?
So I caved and agreed to this farce of a tour. I’m doing my best to harden my heart to Edward’s charms, but it’s not going well.
“Is breakfast that good every day?” he asks as we head toward the community kitchen.
“No, it’s much better on the weekends. Some drive all the way from Santa Cruz just for brunch.”
“Then I’ve got to visit on a weekend. What are the chances I could find a room next weekend?”
“Low, but you could stay with us.” Ugh, why did I say that? I cannot handle him staying under the same roof again. My entire nervous system will go haywire. I’m already dreading the possibility of bumping into him in the bathroom. If he does visit,I might resort to using the public restroom. It’s only a twenty minute walk from our house—totally worth it.
“Good, because I told Brandon I’d be coming back.”
“Well, if you told Brandon...” I repeat a little sarcastically.
“Never mind, I can find a room at another resort,” he says, sounding a bit hurt.
“Edward Norland Frechette,” I say sternly. “You’re not staying at a competing resort. My mom would never forgive me.”
