by Lorin Grace
“I don’t know. There are several organ tuners in the city, some of them in committed relationships already.”
Tessa stepped back but kept her hands on his chest. “I don’t think this one is.”
“Obviously, there must be something wrong with my explanations.” Sean lowered his head.
Tessa met him halfway. Not a single thing was wrong with his explanations—until Candace interrupted with a very loud, very fake cough.
Sean and Tessa turned toward the intruders and were surprised to realize they had drawn a small crowd.
The girl in the wig spoke first. “Hi, I am Candace, and you are kissing my roommate, so I think you’d better introduce yourself.”
Sean shook hands as names flew by too fast to catch.
A man that looked like he could be security held onto his hand longer than necessary. Sean was sure the man was trying to say something with his firm grip. “I don’t recall a Cavanagh on the invitation list. Do you, Allie?”
A woman who stood next to the security guard shook her head. “May I see your invitation?”
Sean pulled the invitation from his pocket.
“How did you get Nick Gooding’s invitation?”
Tessa’s grip on his arm tightened. Before Sean could answer, Daniel Crawford and his wife entered the circle. “So, you’re the guy Nick texted me about. It’s fine, Mr. Alexander and Allie, he isn’t a party crasher. A friend of mine gave Sean his invitation in case he arrived too late to be Tessa’s plus-one.”
As the security team faded into the background, Daniel turned to Sean and extended his hand. “Welcome to Chicago. And a word of warning—break Tessa’s heart, and my wife will cry too. I am not fond of her tears, so I will probably send Alex and his sister after you. And don’t be fooled. Allie is probably the deadlier of the two.” If Daniel hadn’t ended the sentence with a huge smile, Sean might have felt compelled to defend himself.
Mandy finally shook his hand. “Did you drive out or fly?”
“I drove.”
“Were you able to get a hotel room? I believe there are a couple unclaimed in the block we rented.”
“A woman named Bonnie called me this morning and gave me a room.”
Mandy turned to an older woman. “I thought you retired.”
Bonnie shrugged. “It is hard to do, so I get Daniel to give me a little something, like coordinating rooms for family and friends at the annual party.”
“Well, I think it’s time we leave these two alone. I am quite sure we interrupted a discussion, and there is less than a half hour till the New Year!” Candace led the group off but not before Sean caught her wink at Tessa.
A love ballad was playing. “Shall we dance?” Sean didn’t wait for an answer. He wasn’t going to let Tessa get away before midnight. He had some pretty specific New Year’s resolutions, and making his relationship with Tessa permanent sat at the top of the list. How many more times would he need to explain things to her?
Tessa slipped into his arms, and they glided around the ballroom. “Where did you learn to dance?”
“Mom. She loved to dance ballroom, so after Dad passed, I became her partner.”
“I hope she doesn’t mind if I don’t share you too often.”
Sean led them into a spin. “I think she can live with it. Richard does dance.”
“Good, because I think I am learning to enjoy it.”
“Then I shall ask you out dancing the next time you come to New York.”
“Our first date?”
“No.” Sean spun her out and back.
Tessa tilted her head. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean I intend to take you out to breakfast in the morning for our first date. We have a lot to talk about.”
“So are you going to ask me?”
“I thought I just did.”
Tessa shook her head, making her curls bob. “A question needs a question mark at the end.”
“Oh. Will you have break—?”
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One !”
Cheers erupted around them as Sean finished asking the question with a kiss.
epilogue
Good Friday at the Church of the Nativity
Tessa threw her arms around Sean. “You played it perfectly! How long has it been since the entire Messiah has been performed here?”
“I’m not sure. So many people don’t think about the other two parts. But we haven’t done an Easter Concert since I was a boy.”
“I especially enjoyed “The Trumpet Shall Sound.” It reminded me of all those Christmas miracles. Too bad Granda couldn’t be here.”
“From the sound of his last text, he is having too much fun exploring Ireland.”
“Maybe he can kiss the Blarney Stone and get an accent.”
Sean let Tessa go and gathered up his music. “I hope this kicks off a great summer concert series.”
“How could it not? You are in charge. I know these last few months have been hard for you, but being chairman of the museum board seems to suit you. And you are doing a pretty good job of figuring the rest out.”
When he had told her the news of his changed tax bracket last New Year’s Day, she hadn’t believed him. Things like that just didn’t happen. But after her visiting him the next weekend in Blue Pines, flying first class, she accepted the inconceivable reality. When he offered to build her a glass workshop, Tessa chose to go into partnership with Daniel with the caveat that Sean could buy him out if her relationship became permanent. For that reason, she chose an old Blue Pines warehouse as the location. Tessa followed him to the office, which was now much cleaner than in Granda’s day.
“I still wake up and pinch myself. Just the thought that I could walk out of the door and purchase almost anything I want blows my mind. But then I read an email like the one from that odious little rector in the Bronx asking for money to replace their ill-treated organ and it becomes all too real. I’m glad you have been by my side to keep me grounded.”
Tessa laughed. “I don’t think telling you to wait to purchase a Lamborghini until you had a garage is keeping you grounded. But it has been nice to get the best seats at all the Broadway shows and fly out here to see you as often as I wanted to.”
Sean pulled her into a hug. “I can’t wait for graduation when you are out here for good. A week for spring break is not enough.” He kissed her. She returned the kiss. Money or not, in his arms was her favorite place to be.
She ended the kiss. “I’m just happy that Professor Christensen is doing better, not that I minded subbing. But, I am definitely done with school. I can’t wait for graduation.”
Sean held out his hand. “There is something I want to show you.”
Tessa followed him down into the catacombs. In the center of the table in room four sat an unmarked banker’s box. “Did I miss one when I cleaned down here?”
“Open it.”
The lid wasn’t dusty. Tessa set it to one side. Billows of white lace fluffed out of the box. And Tessa lifted out an intricate veil.
“My great-grandmother wore it, and then my grandmother, and my mother. Since Mom didn’t have any girls, she gave it to me.”
Tessa carefully lifted the cloth from the box. “Oh, my. This is—it’s beyond beautiful.”
“Will you wear it for me?”
“Now?” Tessa thought she knew what he was asking but wanted to make sure.
Sean shook his head. “No. More like in a couple of months, upstairs, in the chapel.”
She tucked the veil back into the box. “Is this a proposal?”
“You can’t tell?”
Tessa smiled big and shook her head. “I’ve only heard you ask me to wear the veil in the chapel. I am a bit unclear.�
�
Sean grabbed Tessa by the waist and set her on the table where they were eye to eye. “Tessa Doyle, I’m asking you—no, I am begging you to be my bride.”
Tessa didn’t answer. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him until he understood.
The End
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Sneak peek of Mending Walls with the Billionaire
A disillusioned artist out to save the world. A billionaire trying to keep it together.
Can a fake relationship solve their problems?.
one
Deah Evans patted Araceli’s hand. “What caught your attention during the presentation tonight?”
Araceli searched for the right words to describe her feelings to the wife of her father’s best friend, but the impression left by the slides of Haitian orphans rendered verbal explanation inadequate. “The face of the girl in the brown pillow-case dress—it’s like she wants to hide but be noticed at the same time. She is me when I was her age. I want to tell her I understand.”
“Ah, that’s my Miss Tia. Most people choose the younger children. You read her emotion correctly. I can’t talk about her specific background, but as I explained, some of our children have come out of human-trafficking situations or other orphanages the government shut down because they exploited the children while the owners pocketed the money.”
“Why hasn’t she been adopted?”
“Tia turned fourteen last fall. There is no hope for adoption because the process is so complicated. She would age out before the final paperwork is complete. Children like Tia need the interaction they receive from these service trips to help them see their future can be more than their past.”
“Can a weeklong visit do that?”
“The service weeks give the children an opportunity to learn skills they can’t learn in school and to experience new ideas. I believe seeing women who are going to college helps the teenage girls see the value of education. Most won’t have the means to get further education without a sponsor or scholarships, but they need to build the desire and a thirst for more. We worry about sponsors later.”
“So why the summer family-group trips?”
“The family unit as we know it is a foreign concept to many Haitians. Family groups teach by example what a class never will. At the Evans Foundation, we feel building stronger families builds a stronger Haiti. More than a third of the children at the orphanage have known-parents living in Haiti.”
“So they are not really orphans?”
“No, their parents believe the lie that the orphanages can do a better job raising their children.” Deah turned to her husband, who joined them and took his hand.
“After seeing this, I need to go on one of the service trips.” Araceli didn’t mention the money factor. The last of her savings had paid for her final semester at school. With a younger sister in college, too, Dad would not hand out a loan or gift. Compelled. She hadn’t felt that about anything for years.
Frank Evans put his arm around his wife. “According to your dad, your spring break is the same time as the Dallas-area universities’ break. You should join us. We don’t often make service trips composed of college students. Our summer trips are mostly high school students and families. Kyle leads those.”
Kyle? She’d tried not to think of him their entire visit. Knowing he guided the other trips made the spring-break trip her only option.
Mrs. Evans looped her arm through her husband’s. “For the spring-break trip, I ask that participants create their own projects, some of which will be continued in the summer and fall trips. You will need to submit a proposal for a project. Even those who end up working on other projects are asked to do so. Sometimes we find the timing isn’t right but the idea is solid. I have seen some of your paintings. Think about how you can incorporate that talent.”
Araceli’s mother, Terri, joined them. “Rich says it is starting to snow. He wants to get home before it accumulates on Mass Pike.”
Deah smiled at her husband. “We’d better get back to our hotel. Frank knows I would talk about Haiti all night if I could. I’ve heard about how fast your Boston blizzards can accumulate, and we could be stuck here until spring.”
“But Deah would finally have enough time to talk about her work.” Frank laughed as he ushered his wife away.
Araceli followed her parents out to their car. “Mom, I want to go to Haiti.”
“I hear that, but how are you going to come up with the money? Our circumstances haven’t changed, and with both you and Amelia in college, there isn’t any extra for a volunteer trip.”
“I can get a part-time job on campus. Early morning custodial jobs are always open. There is something ironic about cleaning bathrooms to pay to go to a country with questionable plumbing.”
Terri raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment, her doubts radiating like the heater in the old Ford Dad drove. But the eyes all the children not just the girl Mrs. Evans had called Miss Tia called to Araceli begging her to come.
One way or another, she was going to Haiti.
“Marci, hurry up!” Kyle Evans yelled up the stairs.
Marci came out of the bathroom and leaned over the banister. “Why? You’re not going anywhere tonight. It’s lame to pretend you’re sick on New Year’s.”
“I am not pretending.” Kyle coughed for emphasis.
“You could at least do like Cassie and claim you have to work tonight.” Marci checked her lipstick in the mirror. “Even Mark found a date.”
Marci tossed Kyle the keys. “Come on. I still don’t see why you have to drive me.”
“Mom and Dad are worried about you driving home after midnight, and remember . . .”
“I know, I know. Text X if anything feels wrong.”
Kyle resisted the urge to muss his youngest sister’s hair. “Are we giving EmilyAnne a ride?”
“Her dad will pick us up on the way home from the party he is going to. Even old people are going out and having fun. You need to get a life.”
“And you need to get in the truck before you drive me crazy.” Kyle held open the door.
After dropping his sister off, Kyle returned to his parents’ place. He preferred to sleep at his own condo, but he’d promised to keep tabs on Marci while Mom and Dad were in Boston. Both his other siblings had plans tonight. Cassie claimed she needed to be on hand at the hospital for the New Year’s baby and subsequent announcement. And Mark appeared to be determined to spend as much of his holiday as he could playing before returning to MIT. If Kyle hadn’t found an empty cereal box in the middle of the table each morning, he would doubt the existence of his brother.
Perhaps Kyle shouldn’t have used his little cold as an excuse to skip the parties tonight, but he wasn’t into watching people consume more alcohol than they could handle or women hitting on him because they’d seen an article on his grandfather in Dallas Magazine and had spotted him in the photo on the third page. The last two women he’d dated were more interested in his bank account than he wa
s. He hadn’t done anything to earn his fortune. And preparing to take over the charitable arm of his grandfather’s corporation meant he was only good at spending the family fortune wisely.
His grandfather had always encouraged his children and grandchildren to find their own paths and careers. Kyle had studied family therapy, while Cassie trained to be a RN, then earned an MBA. Some of his cousins chose law and accounting and planned to take their place in the family business. Mark had studied chemistry, thinking someday he might revolutionize Grandfather’s oil company. Kyle would eventually take his mother’s role as the chairman of philanthropic outreach, but for now he only wanted to focus on one thing—Haiti.
He had fallen in love at first sight—with both country and the orphanage his family helped support. He loved the 120 orphans who didn’t care how many zeros came before the decimal in his bank account as long as he could throw a solid curveball.
Twice he took women on service trips to Haiti because he hoped they might be the elusive one. Wrong. The second had flown back to the States after only two days. The first refused to leave the airport. The only woman who’d stuck it out was Cassie’s friend Jade. The problem was that after a slew of dates, there was zero chemistry, and Jade couldn’t take no to mean no. He was sure Jade kept signing up for the service tours to impress him because she didn’t seem to connect with the Haitians.
As a cheer rose from the television and the ball dropped, Kyle made a resolution—find a woman who loved Haiti more than she loved his money.
acknowledgments
For five amazing weeks in 2016 I was privileged to work on the Roots of Knowledge window as a temporary member of the Holdman Studios team. A huge thank you to Tom Holdman for teaching me about stained glass and answering questions for me. I suggest that all my readers take an hour or two at the UVU Library or look at the window on-line: www.uvu.edu/rootsofknowledge.
