Page 24 of Between Desire and Denial
“Don’t give in, Olive. He’s a dick who doesn’t deserve anything from you ever again.”
“You need to stop worrying about me and enjoy your husband, okay?” I reminded her. She was married and had everything to look forward to, and I would be A-okay.
When I got off the phone with her, I sighed, hoping my reminder to her was true. One week in my hometown was manageable… even if my life was spiraling down a drain faster than water.
I stared out the window as Mr. Preston drove, nearing closer and closer to Paradise Grove. I knew I’d been afforded opportunities that most didn’t get because my parents raised my brother and me there. And it was a beautiful place, straight out of a fairy tale even. The weaving brick roads, the tall trees that had been growing for hundreds of years, the perfect landscaping of each yard, and the historic homes that had been updated and expanded over the years.
But every fairy tale had shadows and dark spots, right? Paradise Grove had those too.
The driver hadn’t said a word to me but scanned a HEAT watch that made the iron gates open slowly. We used to always have to key in a code to be buzzed in, but it seemed Dimitri had been able to implement small changes. Yet, as I stared up at the shiny gold lettering that read Paradise Grove, I knew not much could have changed.
The large houses stood tall and iconic against the backdrop of a sunny day. We passed the large park that boasted lush grassy fields and tennis courts, and I saw in the distance the country club with the golf course beyond. The further you went into the community, the larger the houses got. The largest ones were on the lakefront, and I eyed the trees that draped over the street as we got closer and closer to the Seymour Hall, where all Paradise Grove meetings were held.
“I’ll drop your suitcase after I drop you off for the meeting, Ms. Monroe,” Mr. Preston informed me.
“I appreciate that.”
He chuckled. “I appreciate you packing lightly. One suitcase is no problem at all.”
Well, I rented a completely furnished apartment on a month-to-month basis, so I didn’t have a lot of stuff. My whole life was easily packed up in a suitcase or two because I traveled a lot with Kee. Or at least I used to. It’s the way I liked it. No roots and no home, because wandering the world seemed better than planting roots in a place you didn’t love.
“Makes it easier,” I agreed with Mr. Preston as we rounded a corner.
My heart sank as I stared at the corner home where I’d lived my childhood. There sat the Monroe estate. My maternal grandparents had acquired a corner lot with extra yard space, and the house itself had been a small place until my grandmother, in her old age, updated and built on for the family. She wanted my mother to inherit a home that had changed with the community, and every year people renovated and upgraded. Now, there on the corner, stood a six thousand-square-foot home in all gray brick. It was a statement, they’d felt, that they were there to stay.
To my parents’ credit, they never moved after inheriting the property. I’d like to think it was because my mother knew how much it meant to my grandparents and wanted to keep it in the family.
We passed it on the way to Seymour Hall, where the meetings had always been held. It stood like a castle with its large pillars out front and stone architecture on top of a small hill. We rounded a fountain and Mr. Preston said, “I do hope the meeting goes well, Ms. Monroe. Mr. Hardy is doing so much for the community.”
“Do you think so?” I asked him, genuinely wanting to know the answer.
He nodded and his gray brows knitted together. “The HEAT empire makes good money, but they invest in the best places too.”
The car slowed. “Maybe,” I grumbled more to myself than him because I was still skeptical.
“He puts in a lot of work too. He wants to show he’s doing good everywhere, you know? Not all investors take the time to figure out how to integrate the buildings they’re constructing into the community. He made sure to have that condo for the office spaces. It was smart. And he’s doing research on what are good wages for those working under him in these boutiques he’s getting set up. Also, I think he’s running a study to see if expanding the community would be to the detriment of the residents—”
“A study?”
“Well, there are 300 homes now, but he could add HEAT Lane along with the condos for 400 as long as he can prove it’s worth it.”
I didn’t know what to say. Dimitri had to know how clinical it all sounded, didn’t he? I kept the thought to myself and waited to arrive in front of Seymour Hall. Dimitri Hardy stood out there on his phone, taller and larger than I remembered somehow. Out in the daylight, he appeared more on top of the world in his expensive navy suit tailored to perfection and his Italian loafers. I took one last breath from the safety behind the closed door of the vehicle and then got out.
“Olive, you made it.” He pulled me in for a hug, and I swear he breathed in my hair before murmuring, “Apples and honey. My favorite.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled away from him. “Don’t be weird.”
He chuckled. “I’m just setting the tone. We’re supposed to be friendly, you trust me, and you think all my ideas are good ones. Got it?” he said to me before we walked into the conference room.
“Yeah, yeah. I read over the email you sent on the plane.” I’d mostly skimmed it, but he didn’t have to know that. “I’ll try my best, but—”
“Where are your glasses?” Dimitri asked, assessing me instead of worrying about the dumb meeting he’d flown me in for.
“They’re… well, I don’t need them. I just wore them because Rufford thought they made me look studious and more educated, I guess—”
“What a dumbass,” Dimitri grumbled. His piercing green gaze held mine and somehow our stare felt intimate as a small smile slipped from his lips. “Your eyes are even more striking without glasses.”
The butterflies in my stomach couldn’t be fought back when he said that. I looked away. “Don’t be charming for no reason, Dimitri. Let’s get this meeting over with so I can get out of here, okay?”
