Unforgettable (Page 45)

I trusted him. I opened my heart. And this is what I get in return?

I want to get away before I break down completely, but Ash follows me. He takes my arm, pulling me back to him. “You don’t understand,” he protests. “I can’t just drop everything because we happen to be dating.”

“Happened,” I correct him bitterly. “Past tense.”

“You need to calm down, look at this rationally,” Ash tells me. His expression is beseeching, his dark eyes full of confusion. “You’ll see, you’re overreacting. This isn’t about us!”

“Do you really believe that?” I gape. I can’t believe that he’s acting like I’m some kind of hysterical woman, way off base, when he’s the one who’s been so duplicitous. “If I’m being irrational, then why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I turn it back on him. “Why hide it and tell me all these lies?”

“I never lied to you,” Ash corrects me. “Not straight out.”

“Gee, give the man a gold star,” I mock him. “You really want to use technicalities right now?”

I wish I could stay sarcastic: cold and defensive, but the hurt inside me is too painful, it wells up, robbing me of my bitter edge.

“You knew this was wrong,” I say quietly. “That not saying anything would hurt me in the end. At least be honest now about that.”

Ash’s eyes flick away from me again, that hint of guilt he can’t even hide from himself. And that’s what almost hurts the most: that he knew, deep down, that he’s doing the wrong thing, but that still didn’t make a difference to him.

Not enough.

Well, if I don’t matter to him, then there’s nothing keeping me here. No more kisses or tender moments.

No more trust.

“If you think I’m going to sit back and let you wreck my business, then you’re wrong,” I tell him, with a final flash of resolve. “I’m not going to let you get away with this. I won’t give up the B&B without a fight!”

And with that, I wrench free from his grasp and stalk away—slamming the door behind me.

This time, he doesn’t follow.

18.

I need a plan of attack.

After I walk away from Ash, I spend the next two days wracking my brain for a way to stop his development. I barely sleep a wink, haunted by the stiff resolve in his expression, and the way he stubbornly insisted his business had nothing to do with us.

It’s not personal…

I can’t believe he would say that, that he could possibly believe wrecking my future is “just business.” I look around at the house my grandmother poured so much love into, the home of so many happy memories that I, in turn, want to pass on for years to come. Ash may see this property as just an inconvenience to ignore on his plans, but it’s so much more than that to me.

I meant what I told him: I’m not giving in without a fight.

But what that fight is going to be, I have no idea. I search for a strategy, but I’m afraid I’m too late. The Callahan Group is an international company with hundreds of developments under their belt, and I’m just one woman. What can I do to change Ash’s mind?

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Lexi calls, when I’m on my fifth batch of wedding cake batter.

“I need good news first,” I tell her, pausing with the mixer. I’ve been stress-baking myself into a frenzy all day in the hopes that inspiration will strike, and now there’s not a free surface in the kitchen not covered in frosting and sugar petals.

“Well, the good news is, the permits on the construction haven’t been approved a hundred percent.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, my hopes rising. “I thought it was a done deal.”

“Almost,” Lexi replies. I can hear her tapping at her computer, back in New York. “They got preliminary approval, pending a town council review. But that’s just a formality,” she adds. “Basically, they rubber stamp everything the county sends their way.”

I slump down on a stool. “That is bad news.”

“What? Oh, no, that wasn’t the bad part,” Lexi explains.

“There’s more?”

“’Fraid so, babe. I went through the Callahan Group’s permits filings, trying to find anything shady to use against them, and there’s nothing. Perfect records, glowing safety reports. They even won awards for making their buildings eco-friendly and energy efficient.”

I should have figured. “Ash wouldn’t cut corners,” I say, with reluctant admiration. “He pays attention to detail, and gets it done right.”

“So what are you going to do?” she asks.

“I don’t know yet.” I think hard. “How long do I have before those permits get approval?”’

“Looks like they’re scheduled for debate at a meeting next week,” Lexi replies. “Monday night.”

“That means I just have a few days before it’s final,” I gulp. “That’s a tall order.”

“And so was getting into law school, or passing the bar,” Lexi reminds me. “You can do this, babe. You just need to think like him.”

I sigh. “Detached and void of all human emotion?”

“Ruthless. I’ll keep digging here, I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Thanks.”

I hang up, feeling even more anxious. I have exactly four days to come up with a way to stop Ash’s development—or my fresh start in Beachwood Bay will be over before it’s even begun.