Page 21 of Confusing Cade
“I’m sorry he didn’t have the chance to make the Promenade the destination he planned,” I added. “But I hope what we have there will be something he would have been proud of.”
Bella didn’t reply, but she didn’t hang up either.
“Our families have a lot of bad blood between them,” I said. “A rivalry that started long before we were alive.”
“Yeah, it’s been going on forever,” she croaked.Is she crying?
“The past doesn’t have to be the future,” I tried. “We can start over. We can move on.”
“I don’t know—”
“I’m sorry the last couple years have been so hard.” This was probably the kindest I’d been to anyone, and certainly more than I ever expected to say to her. “But I still think having you be part of the end stages of this project is a great idea for everyone. Not only for your dad, but for you.”
“It’s really kind of you to say that about him,” she replied, her voice small on the other end of the line.
My shoulders relaxed.I’m getting somewhere.I glanced at the game still playing on the large screen TV that hung above the oversized fireplace. Atlanta was up by seven, but Seattle was about to score.
“This will be good for you too. A lot of people will be there, and more than one of them has done business with your dad in the past. Might even help you find a buyer for your dad’s office.”
This was a compelling argument, and I knew it.
“I can be an asshole,” I admitted, my effort now knowing no bounds. I was used to getting my way in most negotiations, and this was peanuts compared to the business deals I regularly chewed on in my daily life. “Don’t hold it against me, okay?”
Bella took a long moment to reply, and I held my breath too, sensing we were on the edge of something, both considering the ramifications of this late-night conversation.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll do it. I will be part of the damn ceremony.”
“Great.” I pushed off my elbows and relaxed against the overstuffed couch, a designer model that had never felt comfortable, even though I paid over four thousand dollars for it at the insistence of my interior designer. On the screen across the room, Seattle’s quarterback passed the ball into the end zone, setting the team up to tie the game. “I am really glad that you’re willing to do this and that you’re going to give me another chance.”
“Might as well—” she broke off and laughed once. I wondered why but decided not to ask.
“I’d like to show you some of the final renderings for the project,” I said, growing more confident and emboldened by the second. This project had been my obsession for so long. My world had become a blur of late nights at the drafting table, endless revisions, and a quiet but steady belief that it could be something extraordinary. Now, with the renderings finally complete, I felt electrified, like I was on the cusp of proving something not just to her, but to myself.
“Can you come by the office on Thursday around five? I know that’s late in the day, but that’s the earliest I can free up my schedule.”
“Sure,” she said. “Thursday sounds great.”
We spent a few more moments discussing logistics, a few specifics about the presentation, and her thoughts on the project’s direction. Her voice carried a spark of curiosity that fueled my optimism. I couldn’t be sure, but Bella sounded hopeful, maybe even excited. The thought sent a quiet thrill through me.
Just like Bella, I was hopeful too. And ready.
CHAPTER TEN
BELLA
