The Dream (Crosslyn Rise Trilogy)

by Barbara Delinsky

  “She wants to go into business for herself. She wants the security of knowing she’s her own boss. How about Gideon?”

  “He wants the world to know he’s his own boss. Respect is what he’s after.”

  “Doesn’t he have it now?”

  “As a builder, yes. As a man who works with his hands, yes. As a man with brains as well as brawn, no. He’s definitely got the brains—that’s what makes him so successful as a builder. But people don’t always see it that way. So he wants to be involved with the tie-and-jacket crowd this time.”

  Jessica could understand how Carter might understand Gideon better than some. He’d seen both sides. “If Gideon wants to invest, would that rule out his doing the building?”

  “I hope not,” Carter said, and looked questioningly at Gordon.

  “I don’t see why it would,” Gordon answered. “The body of investors will be bound together by a legal agreement. If Gideon should decide to bid on the job and then lose out to another builder, his position in the consortium will remain exactly the same.”

  “There wouldn’t be a conflict of interest?”

  “Not at all. This is a private enterprise.” He arched a brow toward Jessica. “Theoretically, you could pick your builder now, and make it part of the package.”

  “I wouldn’t know who to pick,” she said on impulse, then realized that she was supposed to be in charge. Recomposing herself, she said to Gordon, “You pointed out that I have to be willing to listen to people, especially when they know more about things than I do. I think that Carter will help me decide on the builder. Do you have any problem with that?”

  “Me? None. None at all.”

  Something about the way he said it gave Jessica pause. “Are you sure?”

  Gordon frowned at the papers before him for a minute before meeting her gaze. “I may be out of line saying this—” his gaze broke off from hers for a minute to touch on Carter before returning “—but I didn’t expect that you two would be so close.”

  “We’re very close,” Carter said, straightening slightly in his seat. “With a little luck we’ll be married before long.”

  “Carter!” Jessica cried, then turned to Gordon, “Forget he said that. He gets carried away sometimes. You know how it is with men in the spring.”

  “It’s summer,” Carter reminded her, “and the only thing that’s relevant about that is that you’ll have a few weeks off between semesters at the end of August when we could take a honeymoon.”

  “Carter!” She was embarrassed. “Please, Gordon. Ignore this man.”

  To her chagrin, Gordon looked to be enjoying the banter. “I may be able to, but the reason I raise the issue is that other people won’t.” He grew more sober. “It was clear from the minute you two walked in here that something was going on. I think you ought to know just what that something is before you face the rest of this group. The last thing you want them to feel is that they’re at the end of a rope, swinging forward and back as your relationship does.”

  “They won’t,” Jessica said firmly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Very. This is a business matter. Whatever my relationship is or isn’t with Carter, I’ll be very professional. After all, the crux of the matter is Crosslyn Rise.” She shot Carter a warning look. “And Crosslyn Rise is mine.”

  10

  “You’re being unreasonable,” Carter suggested, lengthening his stride to keep up with her brisk pace as they walked along the street after leaving the bank. Jessica hadn’t said more than two words to him since the exchange with Gordon. “What was so terrible about my saying I want to marry you?”

  “Whether we marry is between you and me. It’s none of Gordon’s business.”

  “He had a point, though. People see us together, and they wonder. Some things you can’t hide. We are close. And there was nothing wrong with your deferring to me on the matter of a builder. As your husband, I’d want you to do that.”

  “You’re my architect,” she argued crossly. “You’re more experienced than I am on things like choosing a builder. My deferring to you was a business move.”

  “Maybe in hindsight. At the time, it was pure instinct. You deferred to me because you trust me, and it’s not the first time that’s happened. You’ve done it a lot lately. Crosslyn Rise may be yours, but you’re glad to have someone to share the responsibility for it.” He half turned to her as they walked. “That’s what I want to do, Jess. I want to help you, and it’s got nothing to do with Crosslyn Rise and everything to do with loving you. Giving and sharing are things I haven’t done much of in my life, but I want to do them now.”

  She had trouble sustaining crossness when he said things like that. “You do. You are.”

  “So marriage is the next step. Why are you so dead set against it?”

  “I’m not dead set against it. I’m just not ready for it.”

  “Do you love me?”

  She swung around the corner with him a half step behind. “I’ve been married,” she said without answering his question. “Things change once the vows are made. It’s as if there’s no more need to put on a show.”

  That stopped Carter short, but only for a minute. He trotted a pace to catch up. “You actually think I’ve been putting on a show? That’s absurd! No man—especially not one who spent years feeling second-rate, being ashamed of who he was—is going to keep after a woman the way I have after you if he doesn’t love her for sure. In case you haven’t realized it, I do have my pride.”

  She shot him a glance and said more quietly, “I know that.”

  “But I’ll keep asking you to marry me, because it’s what I want more than anything else in my life.”

  “It’s what you think you want.”

  “It’s what I want.” Grasping her arm, he drew her to a stop. “Why won’t you believe that I love you?”

  She looked up at him, swallowed hard and admitted, “I do believe it. But I don’t think it will last. Maybe we should just live together. That way it won’t be so painful if it ends.”

  “It won’t end. And we’re practically living together now, but that’s not what I want. I want you driving my car, living under my roof, using my charge cards. And my name. I want you using my name.”

  She eyed him warily. “That’s not a very modern wish.”

  “I don’t give a damn. It’s what I want. I want to take care of you. I want to be strong for you. I resented my father because he rode through life on my mother’s coattails. I refuse to do that.”

  Jessica was astonished. “You couldn’t do that with me. I don’t have any coattails. My life is totally unassuming. You’re more dynamic than I could ever be. You’re more active, more aggressive, more successful—”

  He put a finger to her lips to stem the flow of words. “Not successful enough, if I can’t convince you to marry me.”

  With a soft moan, she kissed the tip of his finger, then took it in her hand and wagged it, in an attempt at lightness. “Oh, Carter. The problem is with me. Not you. Me. I want to satisfy you, but I don’t know if I can.”

  “You do.”

  “For now. But for how much longer? A few weeks? A month? A year?”

  “Forever, if you’ll give yourself the chance. Can’t you try, Jessica?”

  * * *

  She could, she supposed, and each time she thought of marrying Carter, her heart took wing. Still, in the back of her mind, there was always an inkling of doubt. More so than either dating or living together, marriage made a public statement about a man and a woman. If that marriage fell apart, the statement was no less public and far more humiliating—especially when the male partner was Carter Malloy. Because Carter Malloy was liked and respected by most everyone he met. That fact became clear to Jessica over the next few weeks as they met with Gordon, with lawyers, with various investors. Despite Jessica’s role as the owner of Crosslyn Rise, Carter emerged as the project’s leader. He didn’t ask for the position, in fact he sat back quietly duri
ng many of the discussions, but he had a straight head on his shoulders and seemed to be the one, more than any other, who had a pulse on the various elements involved—architectural plans, building prospects, environmental and marketing considerations, and Jessica.

  Especially Jessica. She found that she was leaning on him more and more, relying on him for the cool, calm confidence that she too often lacked. Gone were the days when her life maintained a steady emotional keel. She seemed to be living with highs and lows. Some had to do with Crosslyn Rise—highs when she was confident it would become something worthy of its past, and lows when the commercial aspects of the project stood out. Some had to do with Carter—highs when she was in his arms and there was no doubt whatsoever about the strength of his love, and lows when she was apart from him, when she eyed him objectively, saw a vibrant and dynamic man and wondered what he ever saw in her.

  As the weeks passed, she felt as though she were heading toward a pair of deadlines. One had to do with Crosslyn Rise, with the progress of the project, with the approach of the trucks and bulldozers and the knowledge that once they broke ground, there was no going back.

  The other had to do with Carter. He would only wait so long. He’d been so good about not mentioning marriage, but she knew he was frustrated. When August came and it was apparent there would be no honeymoon, he planned a vacation anyway, spiriting her away for a week in the Florida Keys.

  “See?” he teased when they returned. “We made it through a whole week in each other’s company nonstop, and I still love you.”

  By late September, he was pointing out that they’d made it for five months and were going strong. Jessica didn’t need that pointed out. Her life revolved around Carter. He was her first thought in the morning and her last thought at night, and though there were times when she scolded herself for being so close to him, so dependent on him, she couldn’t do differently—particularly with the ground-breaking at Crosslyn Rise approaching fast. It was an emotional time for her, and Carter was her rock.

  Even the most solid of rocks had its weak spot, though, and Jessica was Carter’s. He adored her, couldn’t imagine a life without her, but the fact that she wouldn’t marry him, that she didn’t even say that she loved him was eroding his self-confidence and hence, his patience. When he was with her, he was fine; he loved her, she loved him, he wasn’t about to ruin their time together. Alone though, he brooded. He felt thwarted. He was tired of waiting. Enough was enough.

  Such were the thoughts that he was trying unsuccessfully to bury when, late in the afternoon on the last Wednesday in September, he drove to Crosslyn Rise. Before Jessica had left him in Boston that morning, she had promised to cook him dinner. He hadn’t spoken with her during the day, which annoyed him, since he wanted her to call him once in a while, rather than the other way around. He needed the reassurance. She wouldn’t say she loved him, so he needed her to show she cared in other ways. A phone call would have been nice.

  But there’d been no call. And when he opened the back door and came into the kitchen, there didn’t look to be anything by way of pots and pans on the stove. Nothing smelled as though it were cooking. Jessica was nowhere in sight.

  “Jessica?” he called, then did it again more loudly. “Jessica?”

  He was through the kitchen and into the hall when he heard her call, “I’ll be right there.” He guessed she was upstairs in the bedroom—the master bedroom with its king-size bed, which she’d started using when he’d begun to sleep over regularly—and that thought did bring a small smile to his face. He was early. She always freshened up, changed clothes, combed out her hair when she knew he was coming. So she wasn’t quite done. That was okay. He’d help her. He’d even help her with dinner.

  Which went to show how lovesick he was. The thought of being with her, of maybe getting in a little hanky-panky before dinner was enough to wipe all the frustrating thoughts from his mind. And it wasn’t just that the lovemaking could do it, but when they made love, he knew that she loved him. She came alive in his arms, showed him a side of her that the rest of the world never saw. No woman could respond to him—or give—in that way if she wasn’t in love.

  He took the stairs two at a time, but he hadn’t reached the top when she came down the hall. One look at her face and he knew there would be no hanky-panky. Indeed, she looked as though she’d newly brushed her hair and changed her clothes, even put on a little makeup, but the dab of blusher didn’t hide her pallor.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, coming to an abrupt halt where he was, then taking the rest of the stairs more cautiously.

  “We have a problem,” she said in a tight voice.

  “What kind of problem?”

  “With Crosslyn Rise. With the construction.”

  He let out a relieved breath. “A problem with the project I can handle. A problem with us I can’t.” He reached for her. “Come here, baby. I need a hug.” Enveloping her in his arms, he held her tightly for a minute, then relaxed his hold and kissed her lightly. She was the one who clung then, her face pressed to his neck, her arms trembling. There was something almost desperate about it, which made him a little nervous. “He-ey.” He laughed softly and held her back. “It can’t be all that bad.”

  “It is,” she said. “The town zoning commission won’t give us a permit. They say our plans don’t conform with their regulations.”

  Putting both hands on her shoulders, Carter ducked his head and stared at her. “What?”

  “No permit.”

  “But why? There’s nothing unusual about what we’re doing. We’re following all the standard rules, and we did go through the town for the subdivision allowances. So what are they picking on?”

  “The number of units. The spacing of the units.” She tossed up a hand, and her voice was a little wild. “I don’t know. I couldn’t follow it. When I got the call, all I could think of was that here we are, ready to break ground, and now the whole thing’s in danger.”

  “No.” Slipping an arm around her shoulder, he brought her down beside him on the top step. “Not in danger. It only means a little more work. Who did you speak with?”

  Jessica looked at her hands, which were knotted in her lap. “Elizabeth Abbott. She’s the chairman of the zoning commission.”

  “I know Elizabeth Abbott. She’s a reasonable woman.”

  “She wasn’t particularly reasonable with me. She informed me that the decision was made this morning at a meeting, and that we could apply for a waiver, but she suggested I call back the trucks. She didn’t see how we could break ground until next spring or summer at the earliest.” Jessica raised agonized eyes to Carter’s. “Do you know what a delay will mean? Carter, I can’t afford a delay. I barely have the money to keep Crosslyn Rise going through another winter. I’m already up to my ears in loans to the bank. The longer we’re held up, the longer it will be until we see money on the other end. That may be just fine for men like Nolan and Heavey and Gould, and it may be okay for you, but for me and the rest of us—it’s too late!”

  “Shh, honey. It’s not too late.” But he was frowning. “We’ll work something out.”

  “She was vehement.”

  Releasing her, Carter propped his elbows on his thighs and let his hands hang between his knees. “Small towns aren’t usually this rigid with one of their leading citizens.”

  “I’m no leading citizen.”

  “Crosslyn Rise is. It’s the leading parcel of land here.”

  “That’s probably why they’re being so picky. They want to know exactly who’s coming in and when.”

  Carter shook his head. “Even the snobbiest of towns don’t do things like this. Something stinks.”

  Jessica held her breath for a minute. She looked at Carter, but his frown gave away nothing of his deeper thoughts. Finally, unable to wait any longer, she said, “It’s Elizabeth Abbott. I could tell from her voice. She’s the force behind this.”

  He eyed her cautiously. “How well do you know her?�
��

  “Only enough to say hello on the street. We never had anything in common. I’m not saying that she’s deliberately sabotaging our progress, but she’s clearly against what we’re doing. She seemed pleased to be making the call, and she wasn’t at all willing to even consider accommodating us.” Jessica’s composure began to slip. “They could hold a special meeting, Carter. How difficult would it be for three people to meet for an hour? When I asked, she said that wasn’t done. She said that they’d be more than happy to consider our waiver at their next scheduled meeting in February.” Her voice went higher. “But we can’t wait that long, Carter. We can’t wait that long.”

  Carter continued to frown, but the curve of his mouth suggested disgust.

  “Talk to her,” Jessica said softly. “She’ll listen to you.”

  His eyes shot to hers. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because you had something going with her once. She told me.”

  His expression grew grim. “Did she tell you that it happened seven years ago, when I was still living in New York, and that it lasted for one night?”

  “Go to her. You could soften her up.”

  “One night, Jessica, and do you want to know why?” His eyes held hers relentlessly. “Because she was something I had to do, something I had to get out of my system. That’s all. Nothing more. We were classmates here in town way back when. She was a witness to some of my most stupid stunts. Far more than you in some ways, she was synonymous in my mind with the establishment around here. So when she came up to me that night—it was at a reception in one of the big hotels, I don’t even remember which—I had this sudden need to prove to myself that I’d really made it. So I took her to bed. And it was the most unsatisfying thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t see her again in New York, and I haven’t seen her since I moved back here.”

  Jessica’s heart was alternately clenching tightly and pounding against her ribs. She believed every word Carter said—and the truth was echoed in his eyes—still she pushed on. “But she’d like to see you again. I could tell. Maybe if you gave her a call—”