Page 34 of The Candlemaker

“I told you, to prove it’s?—”

“Why do you need to prove it, Frankie?” she demanded, and I knew she was really upset. She never interrupted ordemanded. “You said the rumors would be enough—that getting the whole town involved in your plan would work.”

I had said that. I’d been wrong.

The damn man had talked to everyone and their brother—well, not my brothers—but everyone else, and still, Bea had overheard him on the phone at the Maine Squeeze a few days ago, instructing one of his minions to set up a private tour between him and the buyer for this afternoon; he was trying to circumvent any interaction with anyone who could sway this mystery man, Fairfax, to walk away from the property.

“Well, that was before.”

“Before what?” She uncapped her water bottle and took a good swig.

“Before today.”

Her bottle slammed onto the counter. “What happened today?”

“Collins set up a meeting with this other offer at the inn.” I refused to say his name.Chandler.Chandler was the man I’d kissed. The one whose scent made my heart flutter and whose kiss turned my bones to mush. Collins was the jerk who only cared about a good deal.

“You didn’t…”

“I had to do something, Lou.” I waved a hand at her in frustration and then shoved it into the bag of gummy lobsters I’d been snacking on.

Her knuckles turned white. “What did you do?”

I chewed slowly and then swallowed with a shrug. “Brought a few candles over to the inn.”

“You trespassed?—”

“No, of course not.” I smiled. At least I could ease her mind about that. “I just set them up on the sidewalk and told the buyer I was performing a séance.”

Lou whimpered and let her head drop into her hands. “He’s never going to take my offer, Frankie. Not after you?—”

I grabbed her wrists and yanked them down, forcing her to look at me. “He was never going to take your offer, Lou. Not with all your careful and conscientious dreams. Not with all your kindness and pleas. Not with all the history of what that inn means to this town.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly along with the rest of the cold, hard truth. “Chandler Collins doesn’t care that you’re the right person for the property. All he cares about is who is going to pay him the most money.”

“No,” my good-hearted sister protested; there was no one in the world who could believe in the good in a person like Elouise Kinkade.

“Yes.” My throat tightened, fighting down the words I knew were coming. I swore I wasn’t going to tell her this part—swore there would be no need. But as I stared into her hope-drenched eyes, I knew she’d never be convinced of the lengths I’d gone to if I didn’t. “Lou, the other offer… he’s going to tear down the inn.”

Her jaw dropped, and she made a sound like I’d just stabbed her in the chest. “No?—”

“He doesn’t want to save it; he wants to build condos.”

What the hell was it with the world that everyone just wanted to tear down everything that was old? Did no one want to preserve anything anymore? Did no one feel pride and satisfaction in taking what was tattered and forgotten and building it back up? Giving it a fresh purpose?

Twin tears ran down her cheeks, and the heartbreak on her face only strengthened my resolve.Screw you, Chandler Collins. You don’t want this inn, and you certainly don’t need the money.

“That’s why I told him I was doing a séance.”And a gravesite underneath the building.“It’s more than the offer now, Lou. It’s the building, this history, our town.”

She didn’t move for long moments, stilled by the shock of the news, but finally—thankfully—her chin lowered in a nod. Sheunderstood.

“I’m sorry.” I clasped her hands tight, releasing one when she went to wipe her cheek.

“So why do you have to stay there?” she asked quietly.

I straightened. “Well, they still didn’t believe me.”

“So, you offered to stay there?”

My lips parted, but the answer got stuck on the tip of my tongue.

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