by Debbie Mason
Glamma handed it to her. “This can’t be right. I’m sure Connor said we’d be receiving a check for two hundred thousand.”
The check was for half that. “I don’t understand. Is there any paperwork in the envelope?”
Glamma turned it upside down. “Nothing.” She met Arianna’s gaze. “You have no choice. You have to call him.”
“I know.” Arianna hoped Glamma didn’t hear the tiny note of excitement in her voice at the thought of talking to Connor. Given the circumstances, she didn’t want to think about her reaction for too long. She walked over to the phone on the wall and picked it up. She pressed the number she’d assigned to him several weeks before, number one. It had made sense then. He was the first one she always called. The only one she ever really wanted to talk to. The one person who could calm her down with just the sound of his voice.
He didn’t say hello or give her a chance to say it. As soon as he picked up, he said, “Are you okay? Is everything all right?”
“No to both,” she admitted.
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said, raising his voice above the background noise.
It sounded like he was at a party or a bar. Which reminded her that they were no longer lovers or in a relationship; they were opponents in the race for mayor. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s fine. I need to ask—”
“I want to.”
“Everything’s changed, Connor. We can’t…” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then said, “We got the check from the insurance company. It’s for a hundred thousand.”
“Yeah. They wrote two checks for a hundred thousand each. One for you, and one for Helen.”
“Oh, I just assumed because I’d been the one making all the payments…”
“I know. It’s not fair, but legally my hands were tied. I was able to get them to back off on foreclosing on the house, but that’s all I could do. It’s because Helen cosigned the loan and her name is still on the building that the payout was done that way. Sorry. I thought I’d explained that to you. Are you guys okay with it?”
“Of course. Only the other check isn’t here.”
“It wouldn’t come to the house. Your mother is Helen’s power of attorney. The settlement check would have been sent to her.”
Chapter Seventeen
Connor knew it was a setup as soon as he saw Helen, Arianna, and several of her business owner friends coming out of Holiday House on Main Street at the same time a local news van pulled into a parking space across the road.
He grabbed his parents by the arms, pulling them to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk five stores up from Holiday House. “Whatever you two have planned, forget about it.”
“We don’t have anything planned, son. Your mother just wanted to stop at the Christmas store before we head to Jolly Rogers for brunch.”
“Sorry. I’m not buying it. And you know why I’m not? Because you won’t look me in the eye, Dad. Come on. We’re getting back in the car before the reporter and her cameraman cross the road.”
Which might take them some time because the intersection was busy. Suspiciously busy, Connor decided as he took a better look around. Eleven on a Saturday morning on Main Street was no doubt a popular time to shop, but not this popular. He knew he was right when he spotted a bunch of his uncle’s most ardent supporters piling out of a truck and a couple of cars.
“I have no idea what’s gotten into you, Connor, but I suppose I can come back another time and pick up the ornaments,” his mother said, glancing across the road. She put her hand behind her back, waving it in a hurry up gesture.
“I saw that, Mom. And I also see the signs in the back of that pickup.” He glanced at Arianna and caught the exact moment she spotted the reporter and Daniel’s supporters across the road. She looked up the street, saw him, and the oh crap look that had come over her face only seconds before changed to a you’re a piece of crap look. He felt like it too. And if he stayed, it would only get worse. His hope of getting through the election without her hating him for the rest of his life was fading fast.
After his brief conversation with her last night, he had no idea why he still held out hope that they had a future together. It had been obvious that she wanted nothing more to do with him, other than information about the insurance settlement. At the hospital yesterday, it had been the same, only there’d been something about the way she’d looked at him that had made him believe they still had a chance.
She had no idea how hard it had been for him to keep his emotions in check when she’d shaken the hand of the head of the hospital’s fundraising committee. Connor had wanted to pull Arianna into his arms and kiss her until everything and everyone disappeared. He’d wanted to shout to the world how amazing she was, how proud he was of her.
If nothing else came out of him entering the race, that moment right there had made it worthwhile. She’d shown him she wouldn’t go down without a fight. He hadn’t been joking or stroking her ego when he’d said he’d need some luck to beat her. It had been obvious she was determined to win, and he couldn’t have been happier to catch a glimpse of the competitive and ambitious woman he knew and loved. She was just like him. Only he had more at stake than she did.
Helen would be disappointed for maybe a week if Arianna lost the mayoral race, but she’d love her the same as always. In his case, he’d disappoint his entire family and bring shame to the Gallagher name, or so his uncle had told him that morning. Connor imagined Daniel meant it to be a pep talk, but it had felt more like a threat.
Only for Connor it had never been about the entire family. It had been about his political parents. They needed a common goal to keep them together. If he lost, in their eyes that would mean he could kiss the future race for governor goodbye. And he was afraid that would be the kiss of death for their marriage.
Which meant he completely understood why his parents were doing everything in their power to help him win the race, and for the most part he appreciated their efforts. He just didn’t want their game plan to interfere with his, and a direct confrontation over the future development of Main Street would deliver the killing blow to his relationship with Arianna.
“I’ll catch up with you guys at Jolly Rogers,” he said, turning to walk away.
“Mr. Gallagher. Connor!” a man yelled from across the road.
Connor groaned when several other voices hailed him. He turned with a forced smile, praying Arianna at least had the good sense to leave. She hadn’t, probably because Helen was hanging on to her arm. Eight men and three women swarmed him. They were carrying his uncle’s campaign signs.
“Me and my friends were big supporters of your uncle’s and, as you know, he’s asking us to throw our support behind you. From what we’ve heard, you’re a good guy, but we were voting for your uncle because he believed that the rezoning of Main Street was the best way to ensure Harmony Harbor’s future. So, what’s it going to be, Connor? Are you for or against the office building development?”
Connor had been hoping to keep that part of his campaign under the radar. Since it had been his uncle’s platform, avoiding talking about it had been a long shot. Still, a guy could hope. Especially a guy who was in love with his opponent. They had enough hurdles without adding another one.
He looked over to see his mom and dad watching him. Like him, they knew this was a do-or-die moment. He didn’t let his gaze drift to where Arianna stood, instead focusing on the men and women who’d pinned their hopes on his uncle for one reason—the promise of a brighter future. “After some careful consideration, I’ve decided to back the rezoning of Main Street to allow for the construction of the office building. I believe it can be done in a way that won’t impact the look or charm of Main Street.”
A cheer went up from the growing crowd around him, as well as several shoppers across the road. From outside Holiday House, there were a chorus of boos. And that’s when a microphone was shoved in his face.
“Mr. Gallagher, you and your opponent share mark
edly different visions for the future of Main Street, and since we’re here and you’re here and so is Ms. Bell, it seems to me this is the perfect opportunity and the perfect place for a candidate’s debate on the issue that’s nearest and dearest to the hearts of the citizens of this lovely town.”
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t back down. His parents looked anywhere else but at him. He inhaled deeply through his nose and then gave the reporter a clipped nod. His supporters cheered, then jeered when the woman called to Arianna.
“Either you keep it civil, or this isn’t happening. Do we understand each other?” Connor said to the ringleader.
It turned out it wasn’t the ringleader he had to worry about; it was Glamma.
They were standing in front of the security fencing that surrounded the blackened remains of Tie the Knot and the other three businesses. Connor didn’t know whose brilliant idea it was to hold the debate there or why he’d agreed. Actually, he wasn’t sure he had agreed.
He’d been too busy trying to have a private word with Arianna for the last five minutes. He wanted to explain why he’d changed his mind on the development and to see if she and Helen were really okay with the insurance settlement. But he hadn’t gotten a chance, mostly because she was doing her best to ignore him. He wished he could do as good a job ignoring her.
“So, Ms. Bell, you’re saying that, up until a week ago, you were under the impression Mr. Gallagher shared your vision for the future of Main Street?” the reporter asked.
“Yes, but up until a week ago, I also thought he was supporting me. I had no idea he planned to run against me.”
“Hold up a sec. I didn’t know I’d be running against—” He tried to get his point in, but once again Arianna ignored him, talking over him.
“So yes, it came as a complete surprise to me—” she continued before her grandmother cut her off.
“Proves that you can’t trust a Gallagher. Especially this Gallagher. When he’s not playing divorce attorney for his wealthy clients and ruining young women’s lives, he’s a corporate lawyer. You know the type. He fixes his clients’ problems by threatening small businesses and buying them up or putting them out of business. His talent lies in tearing things down, while my granddaughter’s talent lies in making things more beautiful, building them up,” Helen finished for Arianna. Ad-libbing, Connor hoped. But given his opponent’s icy-blue stare, he wasn’t so sure.
“That’s right. You owned one of the businesses that burned down, didn’t you, Ms. Bell? Wasn’t it your sister’s ex-fiancé who started the fire? You received the injuries to your hand and arm when you—”
Connor wasn’t sure Arianna could handle this line of questioning, so he interrupted the reporter. “Aren’t you supposed to be impartial, Donna?” She gave him a confused look. “Is that a yes? You are supposed to be impartial, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course, but I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”
Both Arianna and Helen did, because they looked relieved. But if he thought that would play in his favor, he was sadly mistaken.
“I’m glad to hear you’re not giving Ms. Bell more time than me because you want her to win,” he continued. “Now we’ll have to see if I believe it. And you better hope that I do, Donna, because Mrs. Fairchild is right; I am a lawyer. A very good lawyer, who has set up shop with my brother in the town my family founded.”
He decided he might as well get that in there before they painted him as an outsider. Something he’d heard Helen was doing every chance she got on the campaign trail. And it ticked him off because it had always been a sore spot for him and his brothers. There’d been nothing they’d wanted more when they were growing up than to be the Harmony Harbor Gallaghers instead of the summer ones.
“If this were a real debate, I would have been given the opportunity to defend myself against Mrs. Fairchild’s slanderous remarks.” He’d probably gone a little overboard, but at least it had taken the reporter’s focus off Arianna and the fire. Which, given the topic of conversation and location, wouldn’t last long. The only way to protect Arianna was to end the debate before the reporter circled back.
“Despite what Mrs. Fairchild and her granddaughter have said, as a corporate attorney, my job is to protect my clients and their assets. I’ve helped several of them become Fortune 500 companies, and that’s exactly what I plan to do for this town. I’ll protect the best of Harmony Harbor while at the same time helping the town grow. Currently, we have people leaving because they can’t find work. New development will provide the jobs they desperately need.”
“If you had lived here for more than a month, Mr. Gallagher, you would have a better understanding of Harmony Harbor,” Arianna said. “We don’t need new development. We need to protect and grow the businesses we already have before they start closing their doors. The Wicklow Group plans to lease the lower half of the office building to discount chain stores that will compete with our locally owned shops.”
He was pleased to note the color had returned to Arianna’s cheeks, even if anger at him had put it there. “Studies have shown that not to be the case, Ms. Bell. The brand-name stores will draw more customers to town. The development will revitalize Main Street as well as give us the office space we need to attract companies to Harmony Harbor.”
“The building they’re proposing will destroy the look and feel of Main Street. Some of us prefer small-town charm to big-city flash, Mr. Gallagher.”
Connor sensed the reporter getting antsy. She wanted to get back to the real story, the story that would provide the most drama and ratings. She wanted to know what he and everyone else did—why had Arianna gone back to her office that night? He had to end the interview now, and he had to do it in such a way that would undoubtedly cause Arianna to hate him even more. It was his way of taking a bullet for her, he supposed.
He gave Arianna a condescending smile. She really didn’t like that, he thought when she stiffened and her eyes narrowed. “Ms. Bell, have you actually looked at the specs for the proposed building?”
“Well, no, but I was told that—”
“Hearsay is rarely admissible in court, so how about we deal in facts and only the facts, ma’am?” he interrupted her with a wink. She hated to be called ma’am, and his cocky delivery would bug her too. “I’ve had a chance to go over the artist’s renderings as well as speak to the architect. Have you, Ms. Bell? No? I’m surprised,” he said, when she gave her head a brief, negative shake.
“Why? Unlike you and your uncle, my granddaughter is not in bed with the developer. No one’s offered her a private viewing of the architect’s drawings. Knowing you and your uncle, the architect is probably a woman.”
Connor groaned inwardly. “As a matter of fact, she is. Although I fail to see what her gender has to do with anything. Surely you’re not suggesting she’s not up for the job because she’s a woman. That would be a little sexist, wouldn’t it?”
Not only were Arianna and her grandmother now glaring at him, so were her friends.
“The point I’m trying to make is that I’m confident we can reach a deal with the developer that will address your concerns and those of the other business owners without risking at least one hundred and fifty jobs during the construction phase and upward to two hundred and fifty when the building is fully leased, instead of scuttling the entire deal for the reasons you’re suggesting, Ms. Bell. As someone who has spent more than a decade negotiating with landowners and developers, I’m fully confident I can get the best deal for the citizens of Harmony Harbor, and that includes you and the other business owners, of which I’m one.” He angled his arm to look at his watch. “Sorry. That’s all the time I’ve got. I have a meeting with the town’s planning committee in ten minutes. And I’m sure Ms. Bell and her friends would like to get back to their shopping.”
* * *
A few days after Saturday’s fiasco and one day before the election, Connor and his father were getting in some last-minute door-to
-door campaigning.
“Change of plans, son,” his father said from the passenger seat of the Porsche. “Harmony Harbor PD has asked that we avoid Main Street. Protesters on both sides are out in full force. Drive by the harbor and see if we can get a look without being spotted.”
Connor knew exactly why his father wanted to have a look. “You won’t be able to gauge how big the crowd is for either side from the harbor front. Arianna’s supporters will be marching where the stores burned down, while mine will be across the street, annoying the hell out of the shopkeepers like they have for the past three days.” No matter how often Connor had asked them not to.
He glanced at his father, who’d yet to respond because he was texting on his phone. Connor turned right at the stop sign.
“Any reason in particular we’re less than a block from Arianna’s?” his father asked casually, still focused on his phone.
“Are we? I didn’t know. Probably as good a neighborhood to hit as any though. We can change a few of her supporters’ minds.” He pulled alongside the curb, wondering if his dad bought his lie. Not about bringing some of her supporters over to his side. Yesterday’s poll in the Gazette indicated the race was tight. But as much as Connor wanted to win, he wanted to get a glimpse of Arianna.
He hadn’t seen or heard from her since their Saturday-morning debate on Main Street. He’d tried to call her a couple times before checking in with Jenna to be sure she was all right. According to Jenna, she was; she just had no interest in speaking to him. Jenna didn’t seem to have much of an interest in speaking to him either. Though she’d softened a bit when he explained why he’d acted like such a jerk during the interview.
His father looked up from his phone. “You don’t have to pretend with me, son. I know you’re in love with Arianna, and I’m pretty sure she’s in love with you. Just give her a couple weeks to get over the loss—”
“As much as I appreciate your confidence in me, Dad, last time I checked we were neck and neck,” he said not only to give himself the opportunity to study his father’s reaction to the news but to talk about his own concerns about his standings in the polls. His father didn’t appear the least bit concerned, which made Connor nervous, especially as his mother had been surprisingly absent from this morning’s strategy session. She was the more devious of the two. “What’s Mom up to?”
