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“I love you.”
36
RACHEL
Iarrive at the Hartwell on Friday morning happier than I’ve felt in weeks. Rhonda called at seven with the same count: four votes against the application and three in favor. Her contact at City Hall is certain Eric’s hotel will be rejected this afternoon. If the vote goes as expected, he’ll have to redesign it as a much smaller hotel or give up on it altogether. Either way, the Hartwell will be safe, and this will finally be over.
Last night, Eric told me he loved me. His words shocked me, but my answer didn’t. I said it back before I could question it, and this morning, I still mean it. For the first time, I can picture a future where I don’t have to choose between the man I love and the Hartwell. I can have both.
The only thing keeping me from feeling completely happy is knowing what this rejection will cost Eric. He’s spent months on this project. It’s his first major development as CEO, and he’s certain the city will approve it. In a few hours, he’ll learn that he was wrong.
I wish there were a way for both of us to win, but there isn’t. Loving him doesn’t change what his hotel could do to the Hartwell. Protecting the Hartwell doesn’t make it any easier to watch him lose.
When the city announces its decision, I’ll go to him. He may not want comfort from one of the people who helped stop his hotel, but I’ll be there if he does. Afterward, I’ll tell Grandma and Chloe about us.
Once Eric’s hotel is no longer a threat, Grandma may be able to see him as the man I love instead of the developer building next door. I don’t need her permission. I’ve already chosen him. But she’s spent months worrying about this project, and I want her to have a few hours of relief before I tell her I’m in love with the man behind it.
She won’t be pleased. In time, though, she’ll see that Eric isn’t the man she thinks he is.
When I reach my office, Grandma is sitting behind my desk, holding the framed photo that usually rests on the bookcase. She’s never needed permission to come in here, and that didn’t change when I took over. It was Granddad’s office long before it became mine.
In the photo, she and Granddad stand beneath the Hartwell’s front canopy, young and smiling.
Grandma wipes beneath one eye before looking up.
“You’re crying,” I say.
“I’m not. It’s just dusty in here.” She clears her throat and looks down at the photo.
I close the door and move beside her.
“He should be here,” she says. “He would’ve put a stop to this.”
Her thumb moves over Granddad’s face.
“I miss him too.” I take her hand. “The application isn’t going through.”
“We can’t be sure.”
“Rhonda spoke to her contact again this morning.”
“People change their minds.”
“Everything we know says they haven’t.”
Grandma studies me. “You sound very sure.”
“I am.”
Grandma studies me for another moment, then nods and returns the photo to the bookcase. Her eyes are still wet, but she looks less worried.
For a moment, I almost tell her about Eric. Instead, I hug her tight and tell her that it’s all going to be fine.
Grandma and I arrive at City Hall twenty minutes early. Rhonda has saved us seats in the second row, close enough to see every council member’s face.
“The count hasn’t changed,” she whispers as we sit. “Four votes against the hotel.”
I squeeze Grandma’s hand. “See?”
