Chapter Twenty-Six

Madison brushed her hair to one side and fastened her other earring. The single hoops were surprisingly heavy, unlike the matching necklace. Twisting in the small bathroom to shove an empty hanger into her bag, she bumped her hip on the antique vanity. She rubbed the sore spot, hoping it wasn’t an omen for the night. The fact it was a Saturday and she was at the office didn’t help.

She should be celebrating the need to work a weekend, celebrating the five new potential clients she’d heard from over the last handful of days, but it was impossible, knowing the business came at the price of the story leaked about her and Jase’s Idaho contract.

Tonight was it, though. She was going to tell Simon and Jase about stepping away from the Old Theatre restoration. All three of them could move on. Well, two of them would. Her heart wouldn’t be so forgiving, but she needed to start somewhere.

Running behind on a night this important wouldn’t do, so she gave herself one last glance in the mirror, smoothed down a fold in her ivory faux-wrap dress, then grabbed her purse and keys from her office and hurried out the back door.

The sky seemed handpicked for the Heritage Days celebration, with its endless blue a perfect backdrop to the stars that would come out in just a couple of hours, and she closed her eyes a moment, soaking in the peace.

“You’re going to be late.”

Smiling, she opened her eyes to see her favorite florist. “Some things are worth stealing a minute for.”

Cisco kept his hands behind his back as he lifted his face toward the sun. “Si. You are very right.”

She studied the older man with his wrinkles and bushy brows. It had been a while since they’d shared more than a friendly wave, and she wished for more time. With him, her heart didn’t beat so painfully.

“Will I see you there tonight?”

“Perhaps. But, before you go…”

She gasped as he held out a brown box tied with white twine. Cupping the gift in his hands, he nudged her with a small smile to accept it.

With a careful tug, she undid the bow and opened the lid. Her awe tumbled out in a whisper. “It’s beautiful.”

“Gladiolus. It means strength.”

She lifted the cluster of three delicate flowers out of the box and inhaled the scent. The fragrance was subtle, not overdone, just like the corsage. Sarah would giggle at the thought of wearing something so old fashioned, but she blinked back tears.

“I’ve seen the sadness in your eyes. But I’ve also seen the strength and courage. The one will keep you humble, the others will help you live, no?”

Madison ran her hand over a coral petal, the scallop-like edges feather soft. “I was right. You are a wise man.” She wrapped her arms around him in a tender hug. “I love it.”

He gestured for her to hand it over and pinned it to her dress like he’d done it a time or two. Then he took her hands, holding them in his own, close together. “Sei bellissima, cara mia.” Then he shooed her away with a smile. “Nel bocca del lupo. Good luck.”

She waved good-bye as his words of humility and strength settled inside her, and careful not to crush her new flowers, she slipped into her car, checking to make sure the Old Theatre mock-ups were secured in the backseat.

When her phone rang, she rifled through her purse to catch it before it went to voice mail. “This is Madison.”

“Miss Blakeley, is there a problem? I checked the table for the display, and it’s still empty.”

And there goes my peace, she laughed to herself. “No, Mayor. I ran into a little traffic,” she lied, “but I’m on my way.” Hopefully her voice sounded more confident on the other end of the line than it did in the front seat of her car.

“We’re scheduled to kick the event off in less than forty-five minutes. I suggest you hurry.” Marty hung up, his irritation lingering in her ear.

Minutes blurred by as she sped across town, and she was grateful to arrive with ten of them to spare. Opening the back door, she unfastened the large canvas prints, tucking them under one arm, while securing their stands in the other. Somewhere between the two, she shoved her purse, and using her knee, shut the car door, praying her dress didn’t get smudged.

“Need help?”

Perfect. She rolled her eyes, and the prints slipped an inch, along with her manners. “I’ve got it,” she said in a curt tone foreign to her own ears.

Natasha raised one of her perfectly shaped brows. “Suit yourself. The table’s over here.”

Simon’s sister led her to an enormous white tent, yards of clear round lights stretching across its lines and angles. She pointed out a tall pedestal in the middle of a cluster of tables already decorated with pamphlets and fresh Gerber daisies.

Madison bent, trying to maneuver the large prints to the floor without dropping them, but, in heels and a dress, she was only making a fool of herself, and she gritted her teeth when Natasha snickered.

“Here.”

Pasting on a smile that was more a grimace, she let the other woman take them from her. “Thank you.”

The beautiful blonde set up the stands and grabbed one of the canvases. Together, they positioned them, making small adjustments so the prints caught the light.

Taking two steps back, Madison studied the finished display critically. With the little time she’d had to work on them, they turned out well. The print that showcased the theatre’s exterior was vibrant and full of color—like a rich, textured oil painting, but her favorite out of the two was the other. With willowy lines of black on white canvas, the drawing gave an exciting hint of how the grand lobby would shine. The twin staircases stunned, and she felt a spring of excitement. The theatre was going to be brilliant. With a last nudge to one corner, she covered them with a silver cloth.

“Simon says you were pretty passionate about the lobby.” Natasha dusted off her hands. “You must have given a pretty convincing argument to get your way.”

Madison eyed her from the side. “And?”

Slim hands came up. “I meant it as a compliment.”

“Sure you did. Because we both know what a fan you are of mine.” The pressure from all that had built inside her over the past week, burst. “Was it also a compliment when you told Mr. Cutter what a scheming, social climber I am? Or when you meddled with my clients?” A guilty twinge poked at her conscience for the accusation, but there were still too many coincidences.

“Oh, please.” Natasha wrinkled her nose. “You act like I stalked your clients and drew them away.”

“So, you know nothing about the Royce Charter Club? Or his cousin’s restaurant?”

The woman held her gaze for a beat, then ran her finger under the bright gloss on her lower lip. “Royce and I go way back. When he’d heard you’d put in a bid for the restoration, he asked my opinion of your company. And I only told him my honest thoughts. That you don’t have a lot of experience.”

“Yes, well, thanks for that.” Her father would be disappointed at the frost in her voice, but the unfairness of the whole thing stung. When an apparent comeback gathered on the other woman’s lips, Madison held up her hand. “Don’t. You know nothing about me. Please quit pretending like you do.” She kept her tone even with the chatter filling the tent. “You haven’t gotten it right once, and I doubt you will. Your pride, or resentment, or whatever it is, is like a concrete wall—one I don’t have the time or desire to chisel through.”

“I only called it like I saw it.”

“Excuse me, but when exactly did you have time to see anything about me?” A few heads turned their way, and she lowered her voice. “Listen. I don’t want to argue with you, but I do want to make something clear. I may be a little naïve compared to others in this industry and still have a lot to learn, but I won’t be bullied.” She found the charm on her bracelet, her father’s small gift reminding her of her strength—a strength Cisco had seen in her, too. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Conviction, deep and rooted, took heart inside of her, and she stepped around Natasha, unable to believe she’d almost bowed out of a job at the first big hurdle.

“That news story really wasn’t you?”

Madison’s steps faltered, and she turned just enough to look back.

Natasha guarded her features, but there was a real question in her eyes, as if she might be willing to accept her answer.

“I’d never add to the pain he carries.”

Simon’s sister studied something on the ground, her expression softening. “You’re lucky, you know. He never let me get that close.”

Madison stood stunned as the woman dipped her head and walked away. For several minutes, she simply observed the people around her, awed by the surprising lightness in her chest. A lightness that wouldn’t come from quitting the restoration.

She searched the faces of the guests as they spilled into the main tent in twos and threes, an eerie familiarity steeling over her. She’d been here before—sifting through a crowd, looking for dark hair with those soft waves. Except, it wasn’t excitement mixed with nerves she experienced this go around. It was dread. Eric’s confession changed everything.

I have to tell him.

“Miss Blakeley, how nice to see you again.”

Glancing up, she met Jase’s assistant’s sweet, genuine smile and could only return it. “Hello, Penny.”

The older woman was regal as ever in her sage sweater and linen trousers. Next to her, and just as dashing, was a young man, probably twelve or thirteen, in dark slacks and a white dress shirt, complete with a crimson bowtie.

“This is my grandson, Aiden. He loves the theatre and is almost as excited as I am for the big reveal.”

Madison stretched out her hand, receiving a blush and timid shake from the teen. “Very pleased to meet you.” But her smile faltered as she returned her attention to Penny. Would this lovely woman still look at her the same way after she learned of Eric’s deception? Be as moved by her work? Or as happy to introduce her to the people she loved?

Probably not.

Penny gestured to Cisco’s gift. “What beautiful flowers.”

Madison touched the pearl tip of the pin holding her corsage in place. “Thank you.”

“Are you nervous for the reveal?”

“A little.”

“You’ll do great.”

She smiled her gratitude for the woman’s assurance. “Have you seen Mr. Cutter?” The words slipped out before they could be stopped, but the sooner she spoke with Jase and dropped the hammer, the sooner she could slip away. Celebrating, no matter how great the cause, was more than Madison was up for tonight. Especially if she had to witness this woman’s disappointment, too.

“We were going to ask you the same thing.” Penny craned her neck to see over the heads of the people filling in around them. “I’m sure he’ll turn up. I think he’s supposed to say a few words tonight.”

A burst of static filled the large tent as the mayor took up a microphone. The crowd quieted, the opposite of her heartbeat.

Where are you, Jase?

“What a beautiful night.” The mayor smiled to the people. “And what a great turnout.”

She tried to listen to his speech, but only half his words made it to her ears. Words like honor and privilege, hardships and new beginnings. She clasped and unclasped her fingers but stopped when Penny gave her a knowing look.

“And now I’ll let Simon Weston tell you a little more about the project,” Marty said. “His company, Weston Designs, is the architectural firm heading up the restoration. He’s done a phenomenal job. We’re pleased to have him onboard.”

Finishing to light applause, the mayor handed the microphone over to her favorite Seattle designer, who had stepped up to the small platform. She shifted her gaze to the tent’s ceiling as he sniffed and straightened his shoulders.

But he didn’t speak.

Looking back to the makeshift stage, she saw him gesture for someone to join him. People around her whispered amongst themselves as they waited, their curiosity probably nowhere near her own. And when it was Natasha who took the spot beside him, his sister appeared just as astonished.

A hush settled once more as Simon began to speak, and though his words were lined with that familiar pompous air, there was a softness in them she had never heard.

“Before we get to the unveiling,” he began, “I want to take a moment to recognize a few people. Starting with my sister, Natasha Weston.”

Madison stared at the siblings and felt her brows slipping downward. He definitely had her full attention.

“I haven’t given her enough credit on this project. She’s been an integral part of its success, and we wouldn’t be at this point tonight without her.”

The mayor’s clapping started a chain reaction, and soon the large space filled with the noise. Natasha blushed, her face reflecting both surprise and joy as she stood by her brother’s side.

“The other person I need to acknowledge, and many of you may know her, is Madison Blakeley of Blakeley Architecture & Design.”

Several heads swung her way. She smiled to those close by, blinking to hide the shock she knew had widened her eyes.

“Miss Blakeley’s proven talent and inspiration have been indispensable, and we are lucky she agreed to be a member of the restoration team. She’s definitely headed toward…great things.”

Simon’s gaze locked with hers. It wasn’t quite admiration in those steel blue eyes. Nor was it necessarily acceptance. It was more a truce, an acknowledgment, and she took it. She also took in the approval on the faces around her, staring at her, and cached them away in a corner of her heart desperate for encouragement. Simon would cringe if he knew what his words had done, which had her grinning wider.

Finishing his speech with an explanation of what the people could expect from the restoration and surrounding shopping district, Simon gave timelines and created enough excitement to please even the mayor.

On cue, Madison stepped behind the display and pulled off the silver cloth, the tremble in her hands almost unnoticeable. The noise in the tent tripled as people exclaimed over the designs, each coming up for a closer look. Several guests pulled her aside and complimented her, and she flushed with each one, but, in the midst of all of the elation, one person’s absence was painfully clear.

Visions of Jase alone, closed up in his dark living room, drowning in the ashes of his past, closed her throat, and air was hard to find in the crowded tent.

Clutching her purse, she pushed her way through the milling people to step outside. The sun hadn’t quite set, but the night was cool, perfect for the festivities, and she sucked in several breaths.

Already the moon had snuck into the sky, its pale, silvery-white complementing the pastels hovering over the horizon. She followed a curved sidewalk past booths of all sizes and colors. Lights adorned each one, creating a beautiful scene. Spicy scents tempted her at every corner, reminding her the last time she’d eaten was before noon.

Around her were people clad in everything from jeans and T-shirts to slacks and button downs to cute little summer dresses. Her envy at their easy laughter and high spirits was hard to shake.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Madison glanced down to see a boy smiling up at her, his brown hair buzzed on both sides but combed neatly on top. In his hands was a tall, plastic cup.

“For you.” Eagerness lit up his whole face.

She accepted the gift, her own eyes dancing. “Why, thank you, sir.” He couldn’t be more than eleven, and her curiosity grew. The boy must have seen it on her face because he leaned in to whisper.

“He says I can’t tell you what kind it is because that will ruin the game. But he gave me twenty whole bucks, and even my mom says I can keep it.”

Her heart stumbled against her chest. “Who? Where did you get this?”

He pointed to a canopy a few yards away, a large banner pinned to the front. Sill’s Italian Soda Shoppe. Beneath the thick vinyl, under a sagging strand of white lights, stood Jase. His hair mirrored midnight, and there was a shadow where he hadn’t shaved.

The desire to go to him hit so powerfully, it physically hurt to walk and not run. She kept her focus on his face as she crossed the walkway, worried if she blinked, he’d disappear.

He looked good. Better than good.

She left a few feet between them. “Mr. Cutter.”

“Miss Blakeley.”

She lifted her cup, the cream from the top plunging like lava into a deep plum-colored soda. Bringing it close, she inhaled the sweet drink. It wasn’t plum. “You know you can’t stump me,” she said, swirling the cup.

“We’ll see.”

A hint of the grin she missed so much softened his guarded expression.

“Walk with me?”

Nodding, she fell in step beside him, but the weight of the drink in her hand was like a reminder of what needed to be said. With each step, dread sank in—deeper and deeper until she couldn’t go any farther.

“Wait.” She cradled her cup in her hands as they stopped. The cold kept her grounded, helped her concentrate on the words she had to get out. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Madison stepped off the sidewalk and away from the crowds, ignoring the way her heels sank into the soft grass as she walked toward a row of trees by a small pond and stone bench. She knew he followed her, felt his warmth.

“I know who leaked the Idaho project,” she said, blurting it out.

When her admission hung unanswered, she turned to see him watching her, studying every plane of her face, and she swallowed.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered.

Heat feathered her skin, but she narrowed her lashes over her eyes. “Did…did you hear what I said?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Even if it was me?”

“Was it?”

Her heart seemed to stutter as the words rushed out. “No. It wasn’t, but—”

“I didn’t think so.” His features dimmed, riddled with a deep emotion that was all too familiar. “Madison.” The rough edge to his voice wasn’t sharp, only pleading. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. That I didn’t believe in what we have. I’ve had a lot of regrets in my life. A lot. But nothing like what I’ll feel if I don’t make things right with you. With us.”

Reaching for her arms, his fingers trailed goose bumps as they slid down to cup her elbows.

“You have every right to think I’m the worst kind of human being. And I probably am.”

“Stop. You’re not—”

“My fears, my frustration, ruined the best thing to ever come into my life.”

Jase gripped her waist, his thumbs pressing into her middle with the weight of his words, but she stopped him. “It was Eric,” she breathed out, her throat so thick she could barely speak. “I feel terrible. I should have known, should have seen it.”

Something close to a laugh escaped him. It was low but as clear as the night sky spanning above them.

She pushed weakly at his chest, despite the drink she held. “How is any of this funny?”

“It’s not, but it makes perfect sense.” He sobered and looked out toward the still pond a few feet away. “And if the guy wasn’t in love with you, I’d probably break my hand on his face.”

Stupid, ridiculous tears filled the corners of her eyes.

“Hey.” He stole her soda, sitting it on the little bench along with her purse, then took her hands. “I understand if you want to run far away from me, but I’m a selfish man, and I won’t make it easy. I need you, Madison Blakeley. Giving up isn’t an option for me. Not anymore.”

Her hands trembled within his, the echo of his words stealing her breath.

Tugging on her fingers, he drew her a step closer. “A part of me died the other night when I let you walk away.”

The way his thumbs rubbed circles over the backs of her fingers brought a beautiful shiver to every surface of her skin.

“You said once that I don’t know you, but I do. You’re brilliant and sensitive, yet strong, and full of more courage than you give yourself credit for. And your talent.” He shook his head, his face a reflection of awe. “You have this amazing gift to see the most tortured building or piece of land and sift out the good hidden beneath the grime and ashes—seeing those things for what they can be. What they should be. You find their story.”

Letting go, he framed her face, and she closed her eyes, memorizing his touch, his scent. Everything that was him.

“You found my story,” he whispered. “You helped me see it doesn’t have to be a tragedy. That it has hope.”

Madison let her lashes flutter open to the green and gold flecks in his eyes that were bright under the budding stars.

“There’s only one problem.”

“There is?”

“Mm, hmm. My story is missing something.”

Her palms rested against his chest as he closed that last bit of distance between them. Feeling his crazy heartbeat match her own, she bit the edge of her lip. "And what’s that?”

“You.”

Her skin burned where his hands cradled her face, but his touch was nothing like the fire that lit within her as his mouth found hers, the pressure evocative and powerful, and she drank it in.

“I want to be the one,” he said against her lips. “I want a chance at making that wish of yours come true.”

If a breeze rustled the leaves in the trees above them, or rippled the water behind her, if laughter spilled over from the celebrations…if time continued to push the second hand around the clock, Madison was barely aware of it.

She stared into his eyes, her hope like a held breath as a tear escaped. “What are you saying?”

“I want us. And not just for this moment.” Jase brushed the moisture from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I know I have a lot of scars from my past, and I know there’s still healing I need to do. Nightmares I need to fight. I’m far from perfect.”

Another tear followed the first, but she was afraid to move and miss even a single moment.

“That’s why I’m going to date you. Take it as slow or as fast as you’re comfortable—”

She laid her palm against his cheek, its warmth steadying her still trembling hands. He held onto her so tight her feet barely touched the grass as he sealed those promises with the tenderness of one perfect kiss—a kiss that burrowed deep within her soul.

Pulling back, he searched her eyes.

A smile played around his lips, his incredibly satisfying lips, and she bit down on hers. “You missed the unveiling.”

His hand around hers was like coming home. “I’m sure Simon did fine without me.”

“Actually, he did.” She was still in disbelief of the architect’s acknowledgments.

“Penny said the prints are great, by the way. She was almost in tears.”

“You saw Penny?”

“Well, she texted me after the unveiling.”

Madison tipped her head back and laughed. “Then how do you know she was almost in tears?”

“Trust me, I do.” His lips curved up in a smug and entirely adorable grin, and she swatted his arm.

“Wait.” He released her hand and grabbed the forgotten soda. Clearing his throat, he handed it to her. “You thought you’d get out of playing the game, didn’t you? Scared you’ll lose?”

“I never lose,” she said, taking it from him, and thoughts of their first date had her smiling wide with anticipation for the promised ones to come. Future moments to learn more about the man in front of her. More moments to experience together. More moments to love.

“Never? I say that night at your house was a fluke.”

“Whatever. I can tell you every flavor in one guess.” She lifted the cup with confidence, placing her lips on the straw.

His brows rose as she took one long drink, but she ignored him. Closing her eyes, she swirled the soda in her mouth, the sweet cream teasing her taste buds first. Layered beneath was a combination she’d never tasted, yet it was familiar. She took another sip.

“Ha.” Jase pointed a finger at her. “You have no idea. Admit it.”

“Hold on.” She drank again. It was good. Different but yummy, and she could swear there was a hint of… “Cherry. It’s cherry. But the syrup is original, not the cherry from a bottle. With vanilla and cream.” She beamed up at him, donning her smuggest grin. But her triumph faltered when he chuckled and shook his head slowly.

Taking the cup, he stole a drink. “Really? You got vanilla cherry cream soda from that? Tsk, tsk, tsk. I’m so disappointed.” He held it up when she reached for it.

“There’s no way I got it wrong.”

“Want a hint?”

What she wanted was to taste the cherry on his lips, but she decided to let him have his fun and scowled. “Yes.”

“You got two out of the three right. The cherry and cream.”

“Huh.” She held her hand out for the cup. “Gimme.”

“Nope. You lost. Face it.”

She pushed her lips out in a pout. “I want another try.”

“Uh, uh. You’re going to have to live with your failure.” He removed the lid and drained every last drop.

“I can’t believe you did that!”

Her own laughter rang in her ears as she shoved him, but he caught her and tugged her closer. She wasn’t sure who started the kiss, was only aware of the thrill as he held her, tasted her. It was flawless. Full of passion but sweet. Familiar…

She broke away, her breathing uneven. “Maple. It was maple cherry cream soda.” Pure happiness, the kind she’d only experienced as a child when life was simple, enveloped her when he smiled, and she grinned back. “Yes! I am still the queen.”

His unfiltered laughter broke into the night. “Get over here. I wasn’t through.”

He brushed his lips against hers. It was light at first, careful, and she shivered. But her reaction melted in the fever of his deepened kiss, his hunger echoing every emotion she’d harbored for him over the past few months. His cologne teased her as he pulled her closer. The stubble on his jaw was rough against her skin, and she loved it. Loved him.

Her heart expanded, pressing against everything within her, pushing out her fears and hurts, leaving only room for a new future and all of its possibilities.

Thrilling, unknown, happy possibilities.