The Dream (Crosslyn Rise Trilogy) Page 4

  “Then you’re missing out on some of the finer things in life,” he informed her so innocently that it was a minute before Jessica connected his words with the gleam in his eye.

  Ignoring both the innuendo and the faint flush that rose on her cheeks, she vowed to state her business as quickly as possible and leave. “Did Gordon explain why I’ve come?”

  Carter gave a leisurely nod, showing none of the discomfort she felt. But instead of picking up on his conversation with Gordon, he said, “It’s been a long time. How have you been?”

  “Just fine.”

  “You’re looking well.”

  She wasn’t sure why he’d said that, but it annoyed her. “I haven’t changed,” she told him as though stating the obvious, then paused. “You have.”

  “I should hope so.” While the words settled into the stillness of the room, he continued to stare at her. His eyes were dark, touched one minute by mockery, the next by genuine curiosity. Jessica half wished for the contempt she used to find there. It wouldn’t have been as unsettling.

  Tearing her gaze from his, she looked down at her hands, used one to shove the nose piece of her glasses higher and cleared her throat. “I’ve decided to make some changes at Crosslyn Rise.” She looked back up, but before she could say a thing, Carter beat her to it.

  “I’m sorry about your father’s death.”

  Uh-huh, she thought, but she simply nodded in thanks for the words. “Anyway, there’s only me now, so the Rise is really going to waste.” That wasn’t the issue at all, but she couldn’t quite get herself to tell Carter Malloy the problem was money. “I’m hoping to make something newer and more practical out of it. Gordon suggested I speak with you. Quite honestly, I wasn’t wild about the idea.” She watched him closely, waiting to see his reaction to her rebuff.

  But he gave nothing away. In a maddeningly calm voice, he asked, “Why not?”

  She didn’t blink. “We never liked one another. Working together could be difficult.”

  “That’s assuming we don’t like one another now,” he pointed out too reasonably.

  “We don’t know one another now.”

  “Which is why you’re here today.”

  “Yes,” she said, hesitated, then added, “I wasn’t sure how much to believe of what Gordon told me.” Her eyes roamed the room, taking in a large desk covered with rolls of blueprints, the drafting table and its tools, a corked wall that bore sketches in various stages of completion. “All this doesn’t jibe with the man I remember.”

  “That man wasn’t a man. He wasn’t much more than a boy. How many years has it been since we last saw each other?”

  “Seventeen,” she said quickly, then wished she’d been slower or more vague when she caught a moment’s satisfaction in his eye.

  “You didn’t know I was an architect?”

  “How would I know?”

  He shrugged and offered a bit too innocently, “Mutual friends?”

  She did say, “Uh-huh,” aloud this time, and with every bit of the sarcasm she’d put into it before. He was obviously enjoying her discomfort. That was more like what she’d expected. “We’ve never had any mutual friends.”

  “Spoken like the Jessica I remember, arrogant to the core. But times have changed, sweetheart. I’ve come up in the world. For starters, there’s Gordon. He’s a mutual friend.”

  “And he’d have had no more reason to keep me apprised of your comings and goings than I’d have had to ask. The last I knew of you,” she said, her voice hard in anger that he’d dared call her ‘sweetheart,’ “you were stealing cars.”

  Carter’s indulgent expression faded, replaced by something with a sharper edge. “I made some mistakes when I was younger, and I paid the price. I had to start from the bottom and work my way up. I didn’t have any help, but I made it.”

  “And how many people did you hurt along the way?”

  “None once I got going, too many before,” he admitted. His face was somber, and though his body kept the same pose, the relaxation had left it. “I burned a whole lot of bridges that I’ve had to rebuild. That was one of the reasons I shifted my schedule to see you when Gordon called. You were pretty bitchy when you were a kid, but I fed into it.”

  She stiffened. “Bitchy? Thanks a lot!”

  “I said I fed into it. I’m willing to take most of the blame, but you were bitchy. Admit it. Your hackles went up whenever you saw me.”

  “Do you wonder why? You said and did the nastiest things to me. It got so I was conditioned to expect it. I did whatever I could to protect myself, and that meant being on my guard at the first sight of you.”

  Rather than argue further, he pushed off from the stool and went to the desk. He stood at its side, fingering a paper clip for a minute before meeting her gaze again. “My parents send their best.”

  Jessica was nearly as surprised by the gentling of his voice as she was by what he’d said. “You told them we were meeting?”

  “I talked with them last night.” At the look of disbelief that remained on her face, he said, “I do that sometimes.”

  “You never used to. You were horrible to them, too.”

  Carter returned his attention to the paper clip, which he twisted and turned with the fingers of one hand. “I know.”

  “But why? They were wonderful people. I used to wish my parents were half as easygoing and good-natured as yours. And you treated them so badly.”

  He shot her a look of warning. “It’s easy to think someone else’s parents are wonderful when you’re the one who doesn’t live with them. You don’t know the facts, Jessica. My relationship with my parents was very complex.” He paused for a deep breath, which seemed to restore his good temper. “Anyway, they want to know everything about you—how you look, whether you’re working or married or mothering, how the Rise is.”

  The last thing Jessica wanted to do was to discuss her personal life with Carter. He would be sure to tear it apart and make her feel more inadequate than ever. So she blurted out, “I’ll tell you how the Rise is. It’s big and beautiful, but it’s aging. Either I pour a huge amount of money into renovations, or I make alternate plans. That’s why I’m here. I want to discuss the alternate plans.”

  Carter made several more turns of the paper clip between his fingers before he tossed it aside. Settling his tall frame into the executive chair behind the desk, he folded his hands over his lean middle and said quietly, “I’m listening.”

  Business, this is business, Jessica told herself and took strength from the thought. “I don’t know how much Gordon has told you, but I’m thinking of turning Crosslyn Rise into a condominium complex, building cluster housing in the woods, turning the mansion into a common facility for the owners, putting a marina along the shore.”

  Gordon hadn’t told Carter much of anything, judging from the look of disbelief on his face. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because the Rise is too big for me.”

  “So find someone it isn’t too big for.”

  “I’ve been trying to, but the market’s terrible.”

  “It takes a while sometimes to find the right buyer.”

  I don’t have a while, she thought. “It could take years, and I’d really like to do something before then.”

  “Is there a rush? Crosslyn Rise has been in your family for generations. A few more years is nothing in the overall scheme of things.”

  Jessica wished he wouldn’t argue. She didn’t like what she was saying much more than he did. “I think it’s time to make a change.”

  “But condominiums?” he asked in dismay. “Why condominiums?”

  “Because the alternative is a full-fledged housing development, and that would be worse. This way, at least, I’d have some control over the outcome.”

  “Why does that have to be the alternative?”

  “Do you have any better ideas?” she asked dryly.

  “Sure. If you can’t find an individual, sell to an institution—a schoo
l or something like that.”

  “No institution, or school or something like that will take care of the Rise the right way. I can just picture large parking lots and litter all over the place.”

  “Then what about the town? Deed the Rise to the town for use as a museum. Just imagine the whopping big tax deduction you’d get.”

  “I’m not looking for tax deductions, and besides, the town may be wealthy, but it isn’t that wealthy. Do you have any idea what the costs are of maintaining Crosslyn Rise for a year?” Realizing she was close to giving herself away, she paused and said more calmly, “In the end, the town would have to sell it, and I’d long since have lost my say.”

  “But … condominiums?”

  “Why not?” she sparred, hating him for putting her on the spot when, if he had any sensitivity at all, he’d know she was between a rock and a very hard place.

  Carter leaned forward in his seat and pinned her with a dark-eyed stare. “Because Crosslyn Rise is magnificent. It’s one of the most beautiful, most private, most special pieces of property I’ve ever seen, and believe me, I’ve seen a whole lot in the last few years. I don’t even know how you can think of selling it.”

  “I have no choice!” she cried, and something in her eyes must have told him the truth.

  “You can’t keep it up?”

  She dropped her gaze to the arm of her chair and rubbed her thumb back and forth against the chrome. “That’s right.” Her voice was quiet, imbued with the same defeat it had held in Gordon’s office, and with an additional element of humiliation. Admitting the truth was bad enough; admitting it to Carter Malloy was even worse.

  But she had to finish what she’d begun. “Like I said, the Rise is aging. Work that should have been done over the years wasn’t, so what needs to be done now is extensive.”

  “Your dad let it go.”

  She had an easier time not looking at him. At least his voice was kind. “Not intentionally. But his mind was elsewhere, and my mother didn’t want to upset him. Money was—” She stopped herself, realizing in one instant that she didn’t want to make the confession, knowing in the next that she had to. “Money was tight.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  Meeting his incredulous gaze, she said coldly, “No. I wouldn’t kid about something like that.”

  “You don’t kid about much of anything. You never did. Afraid a smile might crack your face?”

  Jessica stared at him for a full second. “You haven’t changed a bit,” she muttered, and rose from her chair. “I shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake. I knew it would be.”

  She was just about at the door when it closed and Carter materialized before her. “Don’t go,” he said very quietly. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I sometimes say things without thinking them through. I’ve been working on improving that. I guess I still have a ways to go.”

  The thing that appalled Jessica most at that minute wasn’t the embarrassment she felt regarding the Rise or her outburst or even Carter’s apology. It was how handsome he was. Her eyes held his for a moment before, quite helplessly, lowering over the shadowed angle of his jaw to his chin, then his mouth. His lower lip was fuller than the top one. The two were slightly parted, touched only by the air he breathed.

  Wrenching her gaze to the side, she swallowed hard and hung her head. “I do think this is a mistake,” she murmured. “The whole thing is very difficult for me. Working with you won’t help that.”

  “But I care about Crosslyn Rise.”

  “That was what Gordon said. But maybe you care most about getting it away from me. You always resented me for the Rise.”

  The denial she might have expected never came. After a short time, he said, “I resented lots of people for things that I didn’t have. I was wrong. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t buy the Rise from you if I had the money, because I meant what I said about it being special. But I don’t have the money—any more, I guess, than you do. So that puts us in the same boat. On equal footing. Neither of us above or below the other.”

  He paused, giving her a chance to argue, but she didn’t have anything to say. He had a right to be smug, she knew, but at that moment he wasn’t. He was being completely reasonable.

  “Do you have trouble with that, Jessica? Can you regard me as an equal?”

  “We’re not at all alike, you and I.”

  “I didn’t say alike. I said equal. I meant financially equal.”

  Keeping her eyes downcast, she cocked her head toward the office behind her. “Looks to me like you’re doing a sight better than I am at this point.”

  “But you have the Rise. That’s worth a lot.” When she simply shrugged, he said, “Sit down. Please. Let’s talk.”

  Jessica wasn’t quite sure why she listened to him. She figured it had something to do with the gentle way he’d asked, with the word “please,” with the fact that he was blocking the door anyway, and he wasn’t a movable presence. She suspected it might have even had something to do with her own curiosity. Though she caught definite reminders of the old Carter, the changes that had taken place since she’d seen him last intrigued her.

  Without a word, she returned to her seat. This time, rather than going behind his desk, Carter lowered his long frame into the matching chair next to hers. Though there was a low slate cube between them, he was closer, more visible. That made her feel self-conscious. To counter the feeling, she directed her eyes to her hands and her thoughts to the plans she wanted to make for Crosslyn Rise.

  “I don’t like the sound of condominiums, either, but if the condominiums were in the form of cluster housing, if they were well placed and limited in number, if the renovations to the mansion were done with class and the waterfront likewise, the final product wouldn’t be so bad. At least it would be kept up. The owners would be paying a lot for the privilege of living there. They’d have a stake in its future.”

  “Are you still teaching?”

  At the abrupt change of subject, she cast him a quick look. “I, uh, yes.”

  “You haven’t remarried?”

  When her eyes flew to his this time, they stayed. “How did you know I’d married at all?”

  “My parents. They were in touch with your mom. Once she died, they lost contact.”

  “Dad isn’t—wasn’t very social,” Jessica said by way of explanation. But she hadn’t kept in touch with the Malloys, either. “I’m not much better, I guess. How have your parents been?”

  “Very well,” he said on the lightest note he’d used yet. “They really like life under the sun. The warm weather is good for Mom’s arthritis, and Dad is thrilled with the long growing season.”

  “Do you see them often?”

  “Three or four times a year. I’ve been pretty busy.”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “An architect. I’m still having trouble with that.”

  “What would you have me be?”

  “A pool shark. A gambler. An ex-con.”

  He had the grace to look humble. “I suppose I deserved that.”

  “Yes.” She was still looking at him, bound by something she couldn’t quite fathom. She kept thinking that if she pushed a certain button, said a certain word, he’d change back into the shaggy-haired demon he’d been. But he wasn’t changing into anything. He was just sitting with one leg crossed over the other, studying her intently. It was all she could do not to squirm. She averted her eyes, then, annoyed, returned them to his. “Why are you doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Staring at me like that.”

  “Because you look different. I’m trying to decide how.”

  “I’m older. That’s all.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded, but said no more.

  The silence chipped at Jessica’s already-iffy composure nearly as much as his continued scrutiny did. She wasn’t sure why she was the one on the hot seat, when by rights the hot seat should have been his. In an attempt to correct the situation, she
said, “Since I have an appointment back in Cambridge at four—” which she’d deliberately planned, to give her an out “—I think we should concentrate on business. Gordon said you were good.” She sent a look toward the corked wall. “Are these your sketches, or were they done by an assistant?”

  “They’re mine.”

  “And the ones in the reception area?”

  “Some are mine, some aren’t.”

  “Who is Goodwin?”

  “My partner. We first met in New York. He specializes in commercial work. I specialize in residential, so we complement each other.”

  “Was he one of the men standing out front?”

  “No. The man in the tan blazer was one of three associates who work here.”

  “What do they do—the associates?”

  “They serve as project managers.”

  “Are they architects?” She could have sworn the man she’d heard talking was one.

  Carter nodded. “Two are registered, the third is about to be. Beneath the associates, there are four draftspeople, beneath them a secretary, a bookkeeper and a receptionist.”

  “Are you the leading partner?”

  “You mean, of the two of us, do I bring in more money?” When she nodded, he said, “I did last year. The year before I didn’t. It varies.”

  “Would you want to work on Crosslyn Rise?”

  “Not particularly,” he stated, then held up a hand in appeasement when she looked angry. “I’d rather see the Rise kept as it is. If you want honesty, there it is. But if you don’t have the money to support it, something has to be done.” He came forward to brace his elbows on his thighs and dangle his hands between his knees. “And if you’re determined to go ahead with the condo idea, I’d rather do the work myself than have a stranger do it.”

  “You’re a stranger,” she said stiffly. “You’re not the same person who grew up around Crosslyn Rise.”

  “I remember what I felt for the Rise then. I can even better understand those feelings now.”

  “I’m not sure I trust your motives.”

  “Would I risk all this—” he shot a glance around the room “—for the sake of a vendetta? Look, Jessica,” he said with a sigh, “I don’t deny who I was then and what I did. I’ve already said that. I was a pain in the butt.”