Page 25 of Merry with a Tycoon

“That’s the problem,” I reply, sandwiching the phone between my ear and shoulder as I take a box cutter from the shelf. “It went well. Too well.”

“So talk to him,” she prods. “I’m sure he’ll tell you what’s really going on. If he said one thing and the media says another, I’d be more inclined to believe him over some news media outlet, right?”

“Sure, but you’re biased. You’re dating his brother.”

She sighs. “And you’re dating him.”

“Correction: Iwasdating him,” I say. “This just got too complicated for me.”

“Crystal Francia, are you telling me you’ve given up so quickly?” Willy’s voice is serious now. “Who was it who told me not to close off my heart when I was having doubts about Brogan? Who reminded me that I deserved to be happy in my career—and in love?”

“That was different.” I cut open a box filled with Valentine-themed items.Would my shop even be open then?“Your career isn’t a brick and mortar store that could be torn down at any time.”

“What about love?” she presses. “Are you saying that’s different, too?”

“I don’t know, Willy. Right now, I just need to think things over and not rush things.” I retrieve an inventory scanner fromthe shelf. “I’ve got to get the inventory out to the floor, so I can’t stay long. I’ll text you later and let you know of any updates.”

“Please do,” Willy says.

“I will,” I say, if only to get her off my back for I don’t need any more pep talk for one day. Reality is just too harsh at the moment, and I can’t bring myself to believe in something that seems more like a dream, a fantasy.

I’ve barely hung up with Willy when my phone buzzes again. Preston’s name pops up on the screen and for a moment, I’m determined not to answer. But if I need to get to the bottom of things, I need to face the music.

“Is your revitalization plan for the square really just a cover for evicting all of us?” I ask, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“No, it’s not a cover at all. I meant everything I said to you.” As he sighs, I can hear a flurry of activity in the background—phones ringing, people talking urgently. “This is all a huge misunderstanding, Crystal, and I’m doing whatever I can to fix it. Unfortunately, I also have another emergency in Shang–”

“Mr. Hollister, your conference call with Shanghai is in two minutes,” a voice calls out.

“Just a moment,” Preston replies, then to me, “Look, I know this looks bad, but please believe me when I say I had no idea about that rent increase letter getting leaked to the media. It was a mistake that Teddy remedied yesterday afternoon, but somehow, people have decided to ignore that development.”

“Then why haven’t you made a public statement? Why haven’t you come down here to explain it to everyone in person?”

There’s a pause, and when Preston speaks again, his voice is strained. “I’m trying, Crystal. But we’re in the middle of a major expansion into Asia. The timing couldn’t be worse. I’vegot investors breathing down my neck, contracts that need to be signed...”

“So Seaside Square isn’t important enough for your personal attention?” The words come out sharper than I intend.

“No, that’s not it at all,” Preston says quickly. “Seaside Square means everything to me. It’s... it’s where my father started. It’s where I met you. But as CEO, I have responsibilities that I can’t just drop, no matter how much I want to.”

“Mr. Hollister, Shanghai is on the line,” the voice in the background says more urgently.

Preston groans. “Crystal, I have to go. But please, can we meet later? I want to explain everything in person. I want to make this right.”

I close my eyes, torn between my desire to see him and my fear of being hurt again. “I don’t know...”

“Please,” he says, and the raw emotion in his voice catches me off guard. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please give me a chance to explain.”

Before I can answer, there’s a commotion on his end of the line.

“Mr. Hollister, we’re losing the Shanghai connection!”

“I have to go,” Preston says hurriedly. “I’ll come by the shop as soon as I can. I promise, Crystal. We’ll sort this out.”

The line goes dead before I can respond. I stare at my phone, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. Part of me wants to believe him, wants to trust that he’ll make everything right. But another part, the part that’s been hurt before, warns me to be cautious.

As I turn back to the stack of invoices on my desk, I can’t shake the feeling that things are about to get a lot more complicated. Whatever Preston’s true intentions are, whatever this revitalization plan really means for our future, I know one thing for certain: Seaside Square will never be the same again.

And neither, I suspect, will I.

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