Britt was kind enough to lend her his Navigator until she could purchase a car. Her Chevy Spark had disappeared in the flooding, swept away to … somewhere.
It showed up a month after the hurricane at a car auction where someone had turned it in, hoping for quick cash. The car dealership checked the license plate and discovered its true owner. The damage was horrible, he told her. In the thousands of dollars range, if not irreparable.
After calling the car insurance and traveling to meet them at the dealership, it was deemed a total loss—unless she wanted to keep it as an engine and body project for the fun of it.
“No, thanks,” she told the adjustor with a sigh. She’d bought the car during her senior year in high school, saving her money while working as a waitress at Chili’s and volunteering at a small used bookshop in the French Quarter—books being her true calling, but the store barely made ends meet and couldn’t afford to pay her.
The Chevy was a battered wreck from tumbling down flooded streets, banging into other cars, and being dented by branches and debris in the deep water.
The interior was moldy, smelly, and disgusting. And somehow, the entire back seat had been ripped to shreds. Probably from the glass windows exploding, it was hard to tell.
“Just thinking about the work this car needs is overwhelming,” Melody said while talking with the owner of the car dealership.
“It’s only good for the junk yard and maybe a few salvageable engine parts. They’ll probably only give you fifty bucks. Sorry, miss, but I can take it off your hands and get it towed over there if you’ll sign over the registration.”
“I suspect you’re taking pity and giving me a good deal. Towing will cost more than the potential parts will give you.”
He tipped his hat and gave her a friendly smile. “We all just got through one of the worst hurricanes of the century. A few bucks ain’t gonna hurt me, and I know you don’t have the means to take care of it. I got a warehouse of tow trucks I bought after Katrina fifteen years ago.”
Melody smiled at that and they shook on it, splitting the insurance money as well, which gave her a few hundred bucks. At least she’d have gas and grocery money for a few months while construction began on the rest of her life.
She had also insisted on helping with the meals while staying at White Castle. She had to try feel as independent as possible while her life was upended and in disrepair.
Going grocery shopping took her mind off her troubles, too, and life was just that little bit more normal. Especially when Britt accompanied her and they made a game out of who could get the most groceries for the least amount of money, each of them gripping a hundred bucks in cash and racing through the store.
And then it was a competition to see who could whip up the best dinners.
It was usually a tie.
Driving into New Orleans each day was always a shock no matter how often Melody went. The destruction of whole neighborhoods was staggering. Roofs collapsed in on themselves, retaining walls in piles of brick and mortar. Trucks going up and down the roads loaded down with debris to take to the landfills.
Britt was with her when she got the final numbers on the bookstore.
They met at a café with her insurance agent and the three bids he had brought from construction companies, and they all sat around a table to discuss details of whether the bookstore was still uninhabitable.
At least Melody assumed they would discuss details, but it turned out there were no details to discuss.
“Sorry to have to tell you this, ma’am,” her Allstate insurance rep said after their tea and coffee was served. “I’ve gone over and over the cost of materials and labor, including meeting with the city building department and their inspectors to crank out numbers, and it doesn’t work.”
“What does that mean?” Melody asked.
“To bring the building back to code—well, it can’t. Plain and simple,” he broke off, his eyes locking onto Melody’s. “The city has decided that the building—your bookstore—is to be condemned.”
Melody tried to hide the shock on her face. “What do we do to rebuild and get it out of condemned status?”
“You don’t. You can’t. I’m sorry Miss de Lyon. The building has to be torn down. You’re lucky it didn’t collapse on you all the times you’ve gone inside since the flood waters receded.”
Goosebumps broke out on Melody’s arms and she gripped the edge of the table. “What does this mean long-term? What do I do?”
The man glanced at the foremen of the construction companies who were sipping at their coffee and watching her. “Normally it would mean building from scratch, but that’s gonna be more per square foot than you qualify for at the bank. More than a million dollars to rebuild from foundation up. Part of the expense is that the soil needs work, footings, and raising the height of the building due to its poor location.”
Pressing a hand to her mouth, Melody glanced at Britt whose face was sober. The bad news was worse than she ever expected. Of course it would cost that much. It was a piece of real estate—and she personally didn’t own the land. She leased it from the city.
“Well,” she said, her mind swirling with a hundred thoughts. “Will the city reconstruct the building, and then sell or lease it down the road?”
“Eventually,” one of the foremen said, tugging at the brim of his NFL Saints cap. “But it’s way down the list of priorities. It could take a year before they even begin, maybe two years. City offices, hotels, grocery stores—all the more vital businesses—are in line ahead of you. Sorry to say but they have deeper pockets and more need to get them running again. Constructions companies are pouring in from all over the Texas, Alabama, and Florida states, and even then business owners are gonna be waiting a few months to get started.”
Melody turned to Britt, her hands shaking. She was so grateful he was here with her. “My poor little bookstore. It’s really gone?” Her voice cracked and the men sitting at the table picked up their drinks and sipped at them, not looking at her.
“Thanks for your time,” Britt said, rising from his chair. He picked up the food ticket and pocketed it. “I’ll take care of the bill. I’m sure you all are pretty busy these days.”
Britt left as the insurance rep shook hands with Melody. “Sorry the news wasn’t better, but it’ll all work out, ma’am. It usually does. Good luck to you. Before I forget, the insurance check for your settlement claim on personal effects, as well as the bookstore stock and office equipment will arrive in a few weeks.”
Melody sank back into her chair and picked up her cup, but the herbal tea had gone cold. When Britt returned from paying the bill, she lifted her eyes to him, tamping down the rising panic. “Well, now what do I do?”
Britt shook his head. “I’m sure you’re in shock, and it’s worse than expected, but all your questions are now answered and you know what’s at stake. No more uncertainty over clean up or bids or how long it will take to get the store up and running again. And finally,” Britt added, “you won’t be in debt until you die, either.”
“Now there’s a happy thought,” Melody said, swatting at his arm. “Debt until I die. Unfortunately, I already have piles of debt from getting the store up and running three years ago. It was my pride and joy, Britt. My life. Connecting books with readers and fans. Books are like emotional food to them. To me.”
“I know,” Britt said gently.
Melody tried not to drown in his gorgeous emerald eyes, attempting to focus on the task at hand. “How do I pay off the loans I already have? I’ll never be approved for another loan. I have no collateral, nothing of worth.”
“You have an insurance check coming for all your personal belongings. And the shelves and computers in the store are insured which will help pay off your business bank loan. There may also be federal grants through the national flood insurance.”
“There’s that, I guess. But I still feel this tremendous loss. Like my best friend just died.”
“Your b
est friend didn’t just die. You’re looking at him right now.”
Melody bit at her lips, gazing at this man she knew deep in her heart that she was falling in love with, but didn’t quite want to admit it. In fact, she couldn’t think about that right now. And Mirry was still in the hospital.
She stopped in every day, but her grandmother had difficulty speaking. She was on oxygen and massive doses of antibiotics because the pneumonia had become a serious bronchial infection. Probably worsened by the trauma and chill of dragging her through cold water while she had a fever.
But Mirry always opened her eyes and whispered a few words while Melody gripped her hand and kissed her cheek. She tried to entertain her grandmother by relating all the details of the last few weeks. About Crystal. About White Castle, which made her smile despite the teary eyes.
“You know the truth of our family,” Mirry said hoarsely, eyelids fluttering weakly, while Melody and Britt stopped to visit her after their meeting with the insurance rep.
“I know everything, darling Granny. But how could you bear to lose your home?”
“We lived through the Great Depression. We would survive again.”
Then Granny Mirry beckoned Melody to come closer. “I always pined for White Castle,” she went on, coughing between words. “Always longed to go back, but it was out of our reach—me and your papa.”
“Abel Walter de Lyon, you mean,” Melody said with a small smile. “I saw his grave in the family cemetery. Granny, I had no idea he was buried there.”
“My one true love,” Mirry whispered. “I took you. As a child.”
“I hadn’t remembered until recently. I don’t understand.”
“It was Abel’s wake. The owner gave me permission to bury him in the family graveyard. He always hoped to be buried there.”
“How very kind of them,” Melody said, but her grandmother had already closed her eyes again and drifted off.
Holding her grandmother’s hand to her lips, Melody prayed hard for her healing and recovery. “Please,” she murmured, “I can’t bear to lose her.”
Britt was standing in the corner of the room, gazing at her with soft eyes and a tender smile when she finally rose from the chair.
“Let’s go home,” he told her, kissing the top of her head.
She pressed her face against his soft shirt, willing herself not to cry, sniffling a little before gulping the emotion down. Britt’s arms crept around her cautiously and when Melody slipped her arms around his waist, he pulled her even tighter, resting his cheek against her hair.
“I’m here for you, Melody,” he said. “In any capacity you need me. You’re not alone, I’m right by your side.”
How marvelous it was to feel his arms around her. She’d missed his touch, his solid strength, the feel of his muscular arms holding her against his broad chest.
Over the last several weeks, Melody had resisted any desire to touch Britt, trying to keep her distance and not let her heart open up any more than it already had toward him.
Remaining at White Castle and spending her free time with Britt had been wonderful, but it had tested her to her limits. She had been strong, but in this moment having him hold her had given her the added strength she hadn’t realized she needed. Yet she couldn’t stay in his arms.
Finally, she tugged away, his hands slipping down her arms while her heart lodged in her throat.
“Your grandmother is a romantic,” Britt said when he opened the door to the hospital corridor.
Melody nodded. “I think you’re right.”
“My one true love,” Britt said, repeating Mirry’s words.
“Oh, you heard that, huh?”
“I like it. I also love that you’re back where your family first began. You’re in the right place, Melody. You sure I can’t convince you to let me give you White Castle’s deed?”
“That’s crazy, Britt. As if you’re going to hand over a multi-million-dollar historical mansion to someone you’ve only known six weeks.”
“And why not?” he asked when he opened the door of the Lincoln for her to step inside. “I confess that it’s still a very strange feeling to know that I could buy ten of those mansions. Including a few in Europe.”
“Oh, my gosh, stop! That’s just insane.”
“If not for the Great Depression, the war, and the drought, you would have grown up at White Castle. Married there. It weighs on my mind, you know. I feel like I stole it from its rightful owner. I’m a stranger, a man who has lived a hundred other places, a dozen other lives.”
She stared at him as he hit the door lock and pressed the key fob to start the engine. “I do believe you’re serious, you crazy man.”
“Deadly,” he joked lightly.
Melody leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You truly are a dear, you know that?”
“Mm, I like that. Can I have some more?”
“Have I told you lately that you are incorrigible?”
“Almost every day.” Britt pulled out of the hospital parking lot and maneuvered through the streets back to the highway to White Castle, the groceries rattling in their sacks in the back seat.
Chapter 24
“Britt?” Melody ventured after they jumped onto Highway 1. “Thank you for helping me through this upheaval. Meeting with builders and insurance adjustors and going over paperwork and letting me brainstorm with you. And for visiting Mirry every time you come with me.”
“I might be incorrigible, but you will always be my midnight angel.”
Melody flushed, fiddling with her seatbelt. “Just drive, Mister Mandeville. We have another brainstorming session tonight. I need to figure out how I’m going to resurrect my bookstore—in a new location.”
“Hold that thought because I have an idea.”
After they pulled up into the driveway and unloaded the groceries, Melody automatically began making dinner, pulling out vegetables to chop while he heated the grill for some fresh steaks. She turned on the oven to warm the rolls they had purchased from the bakery in town.
“We make a good team,” Britt said casually.
Melody stared up at him from the oven door. She was going to make a sarcastic remark about how he loved to hint at a future between them! But then she just smiled and straightened. “I think you’re right. We don’t even have to talk or ask questions. We’re reading each other’s minds now.”
“Ooh, now I really want to know what’s going on in that mind of yours,” he said, tugging at her hand to spin her closer as though they were dancing to an unheard piece of music. Their noses touched while they gazed at each other for several long seconds.
Melody held her breath. Their lips were so close, nearly touching, but he didn’t kiss her or take advantage of the moment. Oh, my, but Britt felt good. His hand in hers was perfect, those fingers of his strong and incredible. Just thinking about him sent an explosion of fireworks through her.
She had wondered if this powerful feeling might dissipate while she had kept her distance, but in an instant, it was back in full force. Full-on attraction swarmed through her for this incredibly handsome, kind, and generous man.
Blinking, she tried to hide how rattled she was. “I—wow, I—have to get the paring knife out. Now, tell me again which kitchen drawer it’s in?”
“The knife block is in the corner over there,” he said, amused. “Same place it’s been the last six weeks.”
Waves of intense attraction heated Melody through and through. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be throwing herself at him and never looking back.
“If I’m not mistaken,” he said softly, gently sliding his hands up to her shoulders, not breaking their gaze, “I’d say I just took your breath away, Melody.”
“You’re imagining things,” she said, becoming brisk and efficient. “I’ll set the table while you grill.”
“I’ll have to remember this for the future. When you don’t want to talk about something, you change the subject.”
“I do not
.”
“Yep. In spades.”
She glared at him and began chopping the head of lettuce for the salad. “You said you had an idea for me—about my bookstore. Do you know of one for sale? Except I can’t get a loan or a mortgage. I’m in hock up to my ears, even with the insurance. I need to get a regular job again. Maybe I can put my accounting degree to good use. Know anyone who needs their taxes or bookkeeping done?”
Britt laughed, tugging her into a kitchen chair. “Quit changing the subject again.”
“Okay, I’ll be a good girl and let you speak.” She put a fist under her chin and smiled up at him.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, or I’ll wipe it off for you.”
“And how will you do that?”
“I can think of several ways,” he said, leaning in.
Their flirting had gone to dangerous levels, and here she was egging him on. The heat of Britt so close to her felt like the heat waves of a volcano. She wanted to climb into his lap and kiss him until they were both breathless.
“Before I forget, I also have a surprise for you,” he said.
She sat up taller. “You mean an idea and a surprise both—or the same thing?”
“Two things. Two very good, very excellent things.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense!”
He turned his chair so that they were facing each other, almost knee to knee. “The first one is my most excellent idea, so brace yourself. Ready? I think you should open a bookstore right here. At White Castle.”
Melody was stunned. “What do you mean here at White Castle?”
“Have you seen the cottages that were commissioned by the historical society on the far side of the gardens and swimming pool? They’re used as guest houses when we have overflow or a wedding on the premises, but we could renovate one of them into a little bookstore. A few bookcases, some shelving, a desk for the cash register—you’d be in business in no time.”
“Show me!” Melody demanded, jumping to her feet.
“Let me take the steaks off the grill first and cover them while they rest. My perfectly grilled medium rare is not to be outdone.”
The Owner's Secret (A Secret Billionaire Romance Book 4) Page 17
