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A Chesapeake Shores Christmas
A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

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A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2019
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“Then do it,” she said direly. “Call me and let me know how it goes.”

“Will do,” he said as if it were going to be a quick fix.

When she’d hung up, Mick breathed a sigh of relief. As bad as the conversation had been, somehow he’d managed to avoid telling her that he’d banished Connor from Chesapeake Shores. Which meant he either had to get his son home for Thanksgiving or prepare to cancel his plans for a wedding on New Year’s Eve.

4


It was two days before Thanksgiving before Megan came back to Chesapeake Shores. Though there had been precious little time for anything other than preparations for their big show opening, she’d managed to have at least a few conversations with Phillip about starting a gallery of her own. She had pages of notes she wanted to go over during the long holiday weekend. He’d given her a lot of things to think about.

Though Phillip was willing to consider a branch of his Upper East Side gallery, they’d both agreed she might be happier with a business over which she had total control. Phillip would act as her mentor and would help her to arrange shows with some of his regular artists, most of whom she’d come to know well over the years. Many would be happy to have a new outlet for their work.

Megan had enough savings to get things in motion, but she would need additional capital to operate for the first year. She planned to see Lawrence Riley—her son-in-law Trace’s father—at the bank over the next couple of days to discuss a small business loan. She was optimistic that her experience in New York, combined with the business plan she’d devised with Phillip’s help, would be enough to impress the bank president.

Despite her determination to do all of this on her own, she was realistic enough to understand that her remarriage to Mick would come into play. Somehow, though, she would find a way to show Lawrence Riley and everyone else here in town that she might be Mrs. Mick O’Brien once more, but she nevertheless had her own separate and independent life. It would probably be difficult for some people to adjust to that idea, but she wanted to start that process now.

Beyond her business plans, there were a million and one details to finalize even for the small family wedding that she and Mick envisioned. Not the least of the things she hoped to accomplish was building on the overture she’d made to Connor on her last visit.

It was so important to her that all of the children be comfortable with her coming back to town once again as Mick’s wife. That was going to be even trickier, she feared, than teaching their neighbors to view her in a new way, especially after whatever had happened between Connor and Mick. She still needed to get to the bottom of that. Something told her she knew only part of the story. Even during Mick’s quick visit to New York the previous week, he’d remained stubbornly evasive about the details.

When she arrived Tuesday morning, she insisted Mick drop her off on Main Street. “Bree and I can talk about the flowers for the wedding. Then I want to stop by the bank to see Lawrence.”

Mick frowned. “Why would you need to see him?”

“If I’m going to open that art gallery we talked about, I’ll need to arrange for a loan.”

“Nonsense,” Mick said at once. “I’ve already told you that I’ll give you whatever money you need.”

She scowled at him. “And then it won’t be my business, will it? No, Mick. We’ve talked about this. I need to do this on my own. I have a solid business plan.”

To her annoyance, he looked skeptical. “Maybe you should run it by me first. I have a lot of experience dealing with Lawrence. I know the kind of questions he’s likely to ask.”

“Absolutely not!” she said stubbornly, then backed down at his hurt expression. “It’s not that I don’t want you to see the business plan, Mick. I’m sure your insight would be very helpful, but I just feel this is something I have to handle on my own.”

“Why?”

“To prove to everyone that I’m my own person now.”

“Well, before you go dashing off to the bank, you need to come with me,” he said, looking thoroughly disgruntled. Instead of parking on Main Street as she’d requested, he drove around the corner to Shore Road. At the end of the block, he pulled into a spot in front of an empty corner storefront. Large windows faced both Shore Road and Seagull Lane, while the door opened at an angle to both streets. It was a prime location, no question about it, and more square footage than she’d dreamed of having.

“I was planning on giving you this as a wedding present,” Mick said. “But I can’t very well have you going off to get a loan from the bank to lease something else in the meantime.”

Megan turned to him, mouth agape. “You leased this?”

“I bought it,” he corrected. “Well, truthfully, I already owned it. Jeff and I still own all the property in the business district. He manages the leases. I’ve put the lease for this in your name for as long as you want it.”

“Mick, I can’t afford the rent on a property this size,” Megan protested. “It’s bound to cost a fortune.”

“It’s yours for a dollar a year,” he said, his jaw set stubbornly. “The lease is already drawn up and signed.”

The generosity of the gesture brought tears to Megan’s eyes, but she shook her head. “Mick, you know I can’t accept this. I told Connor I wasn’t marrying you for your money, that I intended to stand on my own two feet. Accepting a free rental property is the same as taking money from you.” She shook her head. “I just can’t do it.”

“Leave Connor out of this. I want to do this for you,” he said. “I know you value your independence, but a husband ought to be able to do something nice for his wife. Opening this gallery means a lot to you, and I want to be some small part of that. Bree let me do the finishing construction on her flower shop, and Jess allowed me to do a few small things for her at the inn. She even accepted that fancy stove her chef wanted. Think of this the same way, as my contribution to getting your business up and running.”

Reluctantly, Megan nodded. Arguing further not only seemed ungrateful, but pointless. “It’s an amazing gift, Mick. Thank you.” Shoving aside her reservations, she regarded him eagerly. “Can we go inside? What was here before? I can’t recall that I was ever in this space.”

He shook his head. “I doubt you were. It sold sunglasses, beach floats, boogie boards, bathing suits and some sporting equipment. Probably would have gone over in Ocean City, but with Ethel’s selling a lot of the same things for a whole lot less money, it didn’t stand a chance. Jeff tried to warn the owners, but they were a couple of young guys with big ideas and a bankroll from their fathers. Couldn’t tell them a thing. They barely covered their overhead. Lasted through the summer, then threw in the towel after Labor Day.”

“Well, their loss is my gain,” Megan said as she waited for Mick to open the door.

Once inside, Megan knew she couldn’t possibly change her mind and say no. The property was ideal. It was filled with natural light. The walls had already been painted in the same neutral tone as the gallery in New York.

“You’ve had it painted?” she asked, sniffing the scent of fresh paint in the air.

Mick nodded. “I called Phillip and asked him what color he recommended. That’s as far as I’ve gone, though,” he assured her. “I haven’t done anything to upgrade the lighting yet, because I thought you’d want to have a say in that.”

Megan pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You really are amazing.”

He studied her worriedly. “You’re not mad at me for being presumptuous?”

“How can I be?” she said. “This is an incredible space, and the location couldn’t be more perfect.”

But she did wonder if she’d just set a dangerous precedent. Mick had always been the kind of man who, in his zeal to make his family happy, had a way of taking over. Give him an inch, he took not just the proverbial mile, but most of the county. It was going to take every bit of strength she possessed to stand up to him.

After leaving Mick, Megan walked over to the bank. She was aware when she stepped into the lobby that several of the people who’d worked there for years were giving her surreptitious looks, but no one actually met her gaze as she walked over to Lawrence Riley’s longtime secretary, a woman with whom she’d once had at least a casual friendship.

“Hello, Mariah,” she said quietly. “Is Lawrence available?”

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