Page 72 of The Wexley Inn
He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, he looked directly at her. “I also signed a letter to the county vouching for the inn’s historical accuracy and safety compliance. My professional reputation is tied to this project’s success.”
“You—” she couldn’t even form words. “You put your reputation on the line, too?”
“To expedite the review process. Bill Patterson said a letter of assurance from a recognized expert?—”
“I don’t care what Bill Patterson said.” Her voice cracked. “I care that you made a decision. You made decision after decision about my project without telling me. You’ve tied your finances and your professional reputation to this Inn and made yourself responsible for my success or failure, and you never even once thought that you should ask me if it was okay with me.”
“You wouldn’t have agreed to it,” Thomas said. “You would have said no, insisted on handling it yourself, refused help even when you needed it.”
“Exactly,” Isabella shouted. “I would have said no, and that was my right to say no. This is my business, my risk, my decision to make, and you don’t get to override it because you think you know better.”
“I do know better. I’ve been navigating this island for over thirty years. I know how things work here. I know who to talk to and what commitments mean to people. You’re brilliant at hospitality, at design, at restoration, but you don’t understand the politics of this place. So I used my strengths to compensate for your weaknesses. That’s what partners do.”
And then there was silence.
“My weaknesses,” Isabella repeated. “That’s what you think this is? Me being too weak to handle the people of this island, so you need to step in and save me?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s exactly what you meant. You think I’m not capable of navigating this world without you, and you think I need protecting and managing and rescuing just like you thought that thirty years ago when you decided for both of us that I was better off without you.” Her voice broke again. “You haven’t changed at all, have you, Thomas? You’re still making my decisions for me, treating me like somebody who can’t be trusted with the truth.”
“Now that’s not fair.”
“Fair? You want to talk about fair?” Her laugh was bitter. “Let me tell you what’s not fair. I left corporate hospitality to build something of my own, to make my decisions without oversight or interference, and I told you that. I wanted to prove that I could create something meaningful on my own terms, and you, the man I’m falling in love with, you’ve been undermining that the whole time, making decisions behind my back, treating it like it’s your business to manage.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting. I need a partner, someone who respects me enough to tell me the truth and trusts me enough to handle my own problems.”
They stared at each other, both breathing hard, a careful distance between them. Emma’s name flashed on Thomas’s phone again.
This time, Isabella reached over and answered it herself, putting it on speaker. “Emma.”
“Oh gosh, Isabella, I’m so sorry.” Emma’s voice sounded distressed. “I didn’t know he hadn’t told you. I assumed that you would know about the loan guarantee. I never would have?—”
“What else should I know?” Isabella’s voice was eerily calm. “What else has your father done that he’s kept from me?”
“Isabella, don’t—” Thomas reached for the phone, but she pulled it away.
“Emma, what else?”
Emma was quiet for a long moment. “He’s been having conversations with the Architectural Review Board. He made assurances to them about the project, too, but he’s just trying to use favors he built up over the decades. I know he’s just trying to help you. He has good intentions. He loves you so much.”
“Thank you for being honest with me.” Isabella ended the call and handed it back to Thomas.
“Isabella—”
“I interviewed for a job in Paris,” she said abruptly.
The words seemed to land like a physical blow because Thomas’s face went white. “What?”
“Vice President of European Operations for Rousseau International Hotels. They made me an offer two weeks ago. I have a meeting with the CEO on Thursday in Charleston to discuss details.” She watched his expression shatter. “I haven’t mentioned it to you, haven’t told you I’m considering leaving, haven’t even given you any say in decisions that would affect both our lives.”
Thomas seemed unable to process what she was saying. “Wait, you’re planning to leave to take a job in Paris? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know what I’m planning, but I’ve been keeping it a secret and making decisions about my future without consulting you, protecting you from information that you might find upsetting. Does that sound familiar?”
The parallel hit him visibly. “That’s different.”
