“It’s late. You could have waited until tomorrow,” I argue.
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t want this problem of ours dragging into tomorrow. Five minutes. Can you give me five minutes?”
I purse my lips. “Okay… five minutes.” I open the door, and we head inside. I swear I feel his eyes on my ass, though, as I make my way into the living room. And I swear I actually see him checking me out when I turn to face him, but he’s quick. If what I saw was true, I only caught a glimpse because he righted his gaze in time.
“So, the building… what are we going to do with it?” he asks. “It’s obvious you had your heart set on owning it for a reason.”
I steady my thoughts and take the risk to hope that maybe I could still get what I want. “I want to restore the original features and keep it as a day spa.”
When doubt washes over his face, the glimmer of hope fades.
“You are aware that the place probably closed down because it didn’t do so well as a spa, right?” He bites the inside of his lip.
“No. That’s not true. The owner got sick and had to sell it. I did the math on what they were making, so I know it’s not that.”
“Okay, but let’s be realistic. The area isn’t great for a spa. People go out to the suburbs for that kind of thing, where it’s more rural.”
“The park is right next to it, so it has the greenery you normally get with a day spa, and the back extends to a private garden. It would be perfect for the busy city worker who wants to have a back massage during their lunch break or end a long day in the sauna or with a full body treatment.”
He stares at me, and I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’m looking back into those crystal blue eyes as he contemplates, and I don’t know if he’s pondering how to shoot me down or how my idea might work.
“What?” I prod when it feels like eons have passed with us staring.
“Since when are you into this stuff?”
I tense remembering he wouldn’t know this part of me. I got into natural remedies and alternative medicine after our breakup.
Sometimes in life, people are there for you in different ways, especially when bad things happen to you that you can’t talk about. That’s how my grandmother was for me. I used to watch her mix her potions when I was little, but I never got into it until after Paul and I broke up. It helped me, and I realized I really wanted to get into it. I’m not going to tell him that though.
“What does that matter?”
“I just want to know.”
“Why?”
“Because it doesn’t fit. You want a spa in a place where we could make millions if we did something like a café or a restaurant. Thought you’d be more onboard for that.”
My heart squeezes.
Shit. He’s saying exactly what I thought he would say.
When I think of the beautiful Grecian décor and the nineteen twenties Gatsby style the previous owners furnished Montrose Place with being destroyed, my heart shatters.
There are coffeehouses and restaurants on Main Street. Why join them when we could do something different? Or preserve something that used to be wonderful.
“Coffeehouse or restaurant? Is that what you want?” I snap.
“Yes. See the potential. People have to walk close to a quarter of a mile in before they get to the closest coffee shop. If we opened one in that building, we’d get all those customers. Not to mention that all the coffee shops nearby are all close together. We’d be the only one on that road. It’s money galore.”
My gaze drops to the ground. This is it. The start of our disagreement, exactly what I preempted in those seconds after Dad made the announcement.
I look back to him and shake my head. “What happens if I don’t agree?”
He presses his lips together. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“I’m entitled to have my own ideas on what I want.”
“Me too.” Humor twinkles in his eyes. It irritates me.