The Naughty List Bundle with The Night Before Christmas & Yule Be Mine. Fern Michaels
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“You’d like for your hometown to stay just as it is for the remaining years of your life. I can understand that, the sentimental attachment, the security that comes with the familiar, the trusted. But what you don’t see is that if Hamilton doesn’t reach forward, it will sink hopelessly into the past. And that won’t allow you to thrive. Not as you could, if you’d be willing to embrace new ideas. I’m no’ looking to destroy your home, Melody. I’m looking to expand on it, improve it, and with that, give you a greater opportunity for bigger successes.”
“You seem to forget I did do my homework. I’ve seen the befores and afters of some of your handiwork.”
He didn’t seem remotely abashed by either her pronouncement or her clear lack of respect. He also seemed entirely too close to her. Still. She could see the tiny, darker flecks that tinted his almost translucent green eyes, could see that he had, indeed, broken his nose at some point. And there was a hairline scar that ran along the top of one eyebrow, and another still, high on his forehead, clearly indicating she hadn’t been far off in her assessment of him as a competent, or at least willing, brawler.
“Some places required more work than others to shore up the foundations,” he responded with the ease of someone who was quite used to defending his work.
It made her wonder how often he had to do that very thing. But rather than make her feel more confident in her arguments, she worried instead that she was going to be outmatched by someone who had fought and won the battle many, many times.
“In those cases,” he went on, “the citizenry was happy to have their home restored in such a way as to guarantee its longevity well into the future. You were right about this not being an Old World town. But some of the ones you’ve researched were. There were few options for renewal without rebuilding, restructuring. It made sense to modernize, to give those villages every opportunity to become successful, thriving communities that could sustain themselves in the modern world, and into the future. Yes, old traditions may have to evolve into new ones. But age-old traditions, while cherished and fondly remembered, won’t sustain a community alone. There has to be flexibility and room for reinterpretation, for building new traditions, new legacies. Isn’t that the very core of your country’s philosophy? If you didn’t embrace growth, you’d all still be driving horses and buggies.”
He made it sound so…necessary. So simple. But it wasn’t.
He tilted his head, ever so slightly, and that mischievous twinkle seemed ready to surface in his eyes at any moment, in contradiction with the absolute seriousness of his tone and the set of his jaw. “If you’d spoken to any of the residents of those places, Melody, you’d have heard how happy and excited they are about their prospects for the future.”
She sighed, and her shoulders slumped a little. He was good, she’d give him that. “Mr. Gallagher—Griffin—I—”
“Let me finish.”
She nodded, so caught up in his eyes, the mellifluous sound of his voice, the vibrancy that radiated from him when he spoke about what he so clearly believed in, that she couldn’t have looked away then if she’d wanted to. “Go on,” she said, ceding him the floor, if not the victory.
The tension in his jaw relaxed just a bit, as did his tone, but the vibrancy was no less potent when he spoke. “I’m no’ in the business of ruinin’ lives,” he said quietly. “I’m no’ here to make your life, or any of those who live here, more challenging, or diminish, in any way, the things you love about Hamilton. I come from a place where traditions are important, too. I consider all of that when coming up with my plans.”
She struggled to keep her head from becoming hopelessly fogged by him, to keep her thoughts clear, her arguments concise. “The pictures you have in the brochure make Hamilton look like some bright, shiny FutureWorld. You can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear. We’re a dyed-in-the-wool, homespun-and-happy-for-it sow’s ear. We don’t want or need to be some kind of resort town getaway. Most of us are here because we like permanently being away.”
“Melody—”
“My turn,” she said, hoping he saw that she was just as earnest and sincere as he was. “We’re happy you’re here.” At his arch look, she said, “We are, Griffin. Truly. We’re happy that Lionel has someone he can trust to take over his business, so we can continue forward. With Trevor Hamilton bowing out, it’s been a great concern, where the future would lead without a Hamilton heir at the helm. But if you’d just work on growing Hamilton Industries, the town will grow by default.”
“But no’ fast enough.”
“What is the big rush? We’re not unhappy with our slower way of life. We all know we’re not going to get rich living and working here. We’re not failing as a town, so—”
His previously open gaze grew shuttered. And a whole new kind of alarm sprang to life inside her.
Her heart squeezed hard inside her chest. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Or all of us? Is something wrong at Hamilton Industries? Are we in some kind of trouble?”
“You’re on the brink of achieving a success like you never dared hope for.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the answer I bring, Melody. It’s an answer that will work.”
She looked into his eyes and realized he was not going to give her anything more. She understood. His loyalties lay with Hamilton Industries. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. “Perhaps you, and by extension, Lionel, should have more faith in the people who keep this town running. Why don’t you focus on the people who run your company?”
“It’s no’ mine as yet.”
“You know what I mean. Don’t underestimate us, Griffin. You’ll garner the kind of real loyalty and support you’re trying to charm us into, if you tell us the truth. We don’t scare off. And we don’t give up.”
“You’ve seen my list of successes, Melody, so I’m going to ask you, based on my track record, to trust that I know what I’m doing. I’m handling the situation the best way possible for everyone involved. Everyone.”
She sighed a little at that and tried not to be frustrated. Before, she’d been prepared to dislike him and cast him as the bogeyman, come to ruin her bucolic little life. It was harder to do now that he’d allowed her to glimpse the real man behind the charming Irish accent and glossy Power-Point presentation.
That man seemed sincere, smart, and very determined.
She broke their gaze, looked down, wanting, needing to regroup. And felt his knuckles beneath her chin, drawing her gaze back to his.
“I think you’ll find that my way isn’t a bad way.”
She looked into his eyes, wanting to find what she needed, so she could get past the ball of fear in her gut. All she knew, in her gut and in her heart, was nothing was going to be the same again. She knew it, just as surely as she’d known moving back here to be with Bernie, to take on a whole new life challenge, was the absolute right thing to do. She prayed like hell this was going to work out half as well. “I hope, for all of our sakes, that you’re right.”
“I am,” he said simply and without arrogance.
Standing, all but in his arms, their gazes locked, she felt connected in a way she hadn’t ever been before, and certainly wouldn’t have expected to be. She saw how easy it could be to trust him, to put her faith in him, let him lead the way, and believe everything would be okay. And she knew the townspeople would feel exactly the same way. Maybe her time in Washington had left her too cynical, too suspicious. But she strongly felt that she was right to protect what was hers, what she saw as the most valuable parts of the life that fulfilled and contented her. She hadn’t thought she was alone in those feelings. She’d heard the same sentiment over and over, expressed by everyone in town. But she saw what had swayed them and understood the temptation. Lord knows she felt it. But