Bonneville shot a steely gaze at Lacey. “You sought out my mother? Behind my back?”
“Behind your back, Ned?” Janice’s voice had gone to ice. “What would you call what you’ve been up to?”
“Me? I, uh…” He leaned in to Janice. “This isn’t the place to discuss family matters, Mom. Not in front of all these strangers.”
Janice stood her ground. “Strangers? How is it all these strangers know more about the retirement home you’re building for me than I do?”
“No need to shout,” Ned said. “And it’s not a retirement home. It’s a home for your retirement. Big difference.”
“At least we agree there,” she said, somewhat mollified.
“It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Then you certainly achieved your goal. I couldn’t have been more surprised when I learned you were Lacey and Jack’s mysterious client.”
“That’s not what I… Wait a minute.” Bonneville surveyed the group gathered around them, then returned his attention to his mother. “Just how did you find out about it? These people were sworn to secrecy.”
“Not after you canceled on them. How could you, Ned? My friends here outdid themselves getting your plan together.”
“But…I didn’t…I talked to…” His eyes lighted on Brian. “Rogers? What are you doing here? Never mind. Explain to everyone why I changed my mind. Why it makes better economic sense.”
“Sorry, Bonneville. I’m here to set things right with my sister. I had no idea when you and I had dinner you’d use a few of my idle comments as the basis of a major business decision.”
Bonneville glanced from Brian to Lacey. “You are related?”
“Let’s get back to the main reason we’re here,” Cam put in.
“Which is?” Bonneville asked.
“Project Veronica, of course,” his mother said. Turning back to her son, she asked, “Were you aware, Ned, that I’ve already been working with Lacey and Jack on this project?”
Ned looked even more lost.
“It’s a long story. Let’s just say their plans are based on my ideas.”
“Your—” Now Bonneville appeared totally confused.
Janice seemed to enjoy being the center of this discussion. “Don’t you think you should table your high-rise idea and reconsider this location?”
“This, this is what you want? You’ll give up your rattletrap of a house if I build you one at Sullivan’s Creek?”
“I rather like my old rattletrap. Our family enjoyed some good times there.”
“But, Mom.”
“Hear me out. I’m ready for a change. Time to move on to a new stage of my life.”
“There?”
“Yes. That’s where I grew up. Grandpa Jake will finally get what he always wanted, having me back on his land.” She paused, then added, “But there’s one provision.”
Her son cringed visibly, as if expecting her to extract a pound of flesh. “Which is?”
Janice gazed at Lacey. “We get rid of this ridiculous idea of a retirement community for boomers and focus on making the place intergenerational instead.”
Bonneville breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Sure. I just want you to be happy and well taken care of.”
Janice touched his arm. “I am happy, dear, but I’d be even happier if you stopped by more frequently,” she said, playing the card she’d been holding in abeyance.
“Okay.”
Janice paused, as if gathering her courage. “I was thinking you might want to join our community. Build your own place for when you visit Iowa.” She said it evenly, but Lacey knew what a great effort it was for her to make it sound offhand.
At first, Bonneville wore the expression of a doomed man, but he seemed to be thinking through his mother’s proposal. After a moment, a slight smile crept onto his lips. “Here I was worried you were losing your touch. You always were a much better negotiator than I.”
“So?” she asked, failing to keep the apprehension out of her tone.
Bonneville raised his hands in surrender. “Yes, I’ll build a house there too.”
Janice rested her attention on Cam. “There you are, Mr. Mackenzie. Two lots subscribed already.”
“Well, Mackenzie,” Ned said at last, “looks like we’re back to talking about a residential development out in the country again. An intergenerational development.” He nodded toward his mother. “Take whatever time you need to revise the previous design concept. I’m sure my mother will be happy to assist.”
Janice winked at Lacey. “I’d love to, although I have every confidence in Lacey and Jack.”
“Now that my mother knows all about this, get rid of that ridiculous name, Project Veronica,” Bonneville added. “I want it named after my grandfather, Jake Sullivan. How about Sullivan’s Creek?”
Janice clapped her hands together. “Perfect. Dad would be so happy.”
“Gramps hated to see the population expansion heading for his property, but he knew someday it was inevitable. So his bequest came with certain environmental stipulations. Those will have to go into the design concept as well.”
“No problem,” Cam replied. “Right, Lacey? Jack?”
“We’ll make this development a showplace for environmental preservation,” Jack promised.
Lacey could only smile. The old, glib Jack Dalton was back. Correction, the newly improved Jack Dalton, had returned, thanks to the research she and Jean would soon be undertaking, since she’d bet money her partner had no idea what environmental preservation was.
Cam just happened to have brought along a contract sealing the deal, which, after a short perusal, Bonneville signed, his mother looking on. “You won’t regret this, Bonneville,” Cam assured.
“As long as my mother’s happy with the result, I’ll have no regrets. And although I signed using my business name, call me Ned from here on,” Collier slung an arm around his parent.
“Well, Ned, how ’bout we all go out for dinner and celebrate. My treat.” He shifted his gaze to Brian, who’d remained quiet since his comment to Bonneville. “That includes you, too, Rogers. I want to hear your thoughts on urban sprawl, so I’m ready the next time that concern threatens a project.”
Cam and their new client as well as Janice and Brian filed out, discussing places to eat. Jack put a hand on Lacey’s forearm, indicating he wanted her to remain behind.
“You two coming?” Cam called.
“Shortly,” Jack said, never taking his eyes from Lacey.
Once they were alone, he pulled out the tentative diagram of potential lots they’d put together and pointed to one lot in particular. “This spot halfway up the hill and overlooking the creek strikes me as the prime spot on the entire property. What do you think?”
“Isn’t that about where you had me witching for water a few days ago?”
He lifted a brow. “I believe you’re right.”
“Depends on who’d be building there, I guess. Janice likes the spot nearer the entrance. Who knows which one Ned, will select.”
“Guess I was asking which one you’d pick, if you were going to build there.”
Where was he going with this? “I’d land on the same one you did, then, although I’m not sure if it’s the architect in me choosing it or the sentimentalist, since that’s where you agreed to come back to the firm.”
He took her hand. “I was hoping you’d agree. I think I’m going to buy that particular lot, but I need your help designing it. After all, you’re the expert on single-family homes.”
Jack had changed his mind about Sullivan’s Creek so much he now planned to live there himself? “Okay, I’d be happy to help. But I don’t understand. Janice wants this development to be intergenerational, but I doubt that includes bachelor pads.”
He brought her hand to his lips, kissed it. “Good point. We should do something about that.”
His eyes were looking directly into hers, a glint of determination sparkling back at her. Was he going where
it sounded he was going?
“I can only promise to stay with you for our lifetime, Lacey, if you’ll marry me. Is that enough of a commitment for you?”
He was going there! Dear God, how was she supposed to answer? Of course, she knew what to say. She’d somehow known it would come to this since the very first day she wandered onto that field, and her fear had denied it until now. “I don’t think I’ll find a better Salsa partner. Guess I should take you up on the offer.”
“I do more than dance,” he said, his voice thick. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her as if for the first time, tentatively at first, but within seconds deepening the intensity.
You certainly do, she thought, preparing herself for the ride of a lifetime. This was the man who would give her a two-story, four-bedroom home, complete with a family of her own.
A word about the author…
Barbara Barrett avoided a midlife crisis when she discovered fiction writing. Actually, it was the character of a romance writer on a daytime drama that inspired her to consider this particular genre. A few thousand words later, she realized she had discovered her passion. Even though she liked her day job in state government human resources management, she’d finally found what she was meant to do. That drive kept her going through numerous rejections, low contest scores, and a bout with breast cancer.
She probably would have given up after the first few years of writing had she not joined Romance Writers of America and begun to learn her craft and more about the publishing business and gained the support of a huge network of writers.
She is currently a member of the SpaceCoasT Authors of Romance, Iowa Romance Novelists, Kiss of Death Mystery/Suspense, and Scriptscene chapters of RWA and currently serves as KOD’s website liaison and as the Treasurer of SpaceCoasT Authors of Romance.
She graduated from the University of Iowa with a B.A. in History and from Drake University with an M.A. in History. She met her spouse in dormitory resident advisor training her senior year of college. They have two grown children and seven grandchildren.
A movie buff with aspirations of writing screenplays, her interests include interior design, Mah Jongg, knitting, and lunches with friends. She lives in Florida half the year and in central Iowa the other half.
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Saved by the Salsa Page 27
