Cecily peered down at his dress shoes as
she followed him over to the conference table.
Tucker went over the contracts and she signed her name approximately a million times.
“That’s the last one. I’ll have Margaret make a copy for you. We’ll be taking it down to the courthouse for filing later this afternoon.” He rose and called to the receptionist, hanging over the freshly signed contracts.
“Okay, I have to ask. Where’s your cast?”
“I was misdiagnosed,” he said easily.
She arched a brow. “How do you get misdiagnosed with a broken leg?”
His expression settled somewhere between smug and sheepish as he returned to his seat. “I decided my understudy needed the part more.”
Cecily thought back to the gossip she’d heard surrounding the play, about how Tucker had broken his leg, shoving Brody into his role as leading man. What a delightful twist. “Needed the opportunity to get the girl, you mean.” She laughed. “And people talk about how Norah arranges things to suit her.”
“They say the same thing about you, and now they’ll say it more often.” Tucker handed over the keys. “Congratulations, Cecily, you are, officially, the new owner of the Wishful train depot.”
She clutched them in her fist and resisted the urge to do a little jig. That could wait until she was in the privacy of her new office building. “Thanks, Tucker.”
Gathering up her copy of the paperwork, Cecily said goodbye and stepped out into the frigid December day. Before sliding on her gloves, she sent a quick text to Reed. Finally done.
His response was immediate. Meet you there.
She could’ve taken her car, but the building was only a few blocks from Tucker’s office, and she wanted to walk through the town she’d adopted as her own. Wreaths and holiday banners adorned all the streetlights downtown. A massive Christmas tree reached toward the sky on the green just in front of City Hall. Shop windows all along the way held cheerful displays inviting shoppers to come inside. Cecily knew most of them would be offering hot chocolate or mulled cider to entice shoppers into lingering. It pleased her that most of the parking spaces were filled and people strolled along the streets, hands full of shopping bags. Two weeks to Christmas and downtown Wishful was doing a brisk business. The knowledge that she’d helped make that a reality warmed her against the chill.
By January, she’d be doing the same from her new firm instead of under the loose auspices of the city planner. Maybe February. It depended on how long it took her to get the building cleaned up and turned into something resembling an actual office. The city had cleaned out all the junk they’d been storing there for the past twenty-odd years, but it was a long way from ready for clients. She’d considered renovating to the specs Mitch Campbell had drawn up for Norah, but much as she loved the design, she didn’t want to dip any further into her trust fund than she had to purchase the building. She preferred to let things grow organically, see what she could make of it on her own. And that meant she needed to get creative. Still, Whistle Stop Marketing was close to becoming a real thing.
She couldn’t wait.
The bright flash of yellow at the front door had Cecily slowing.
What on earth?
Pansies. Two enormous blue-glazed pots of bright faced pansies and some kind of green stuff that would presumably survive the cold now flanked her front door. Where had they come from?
“Clearly my cousin’s been here.” Reed, slid an arm around her waist. “That’s got Cam written all over it.”
“Awww. That’s awfully nice of him. It makes the outside look almost like a real business.”
“A closing day present. Ready to go in?”
Cecily held up her key. “Let’s do it.”
She unlocked the door and stepped inside, reaching for the light. “Why do I smell—oh my God.”
Heart thumping, she took a few steps forward and stopped again. The place had not only been emptied, it’d been cleaned. The fresh scent of lemon oil hung in the air, punctuated by the incongruous scent of fresh biscuits. This, presumably, arose from the covered basket sitting on the desk. The desk. Across the vast space, a long, L-shaped desk was flanked by a pair of large bookcases. Cecily recognized Daniel’s pallet-wood creations instantly. Across from them, a large markerboard on a rolling stand stood adjacent to an enormous bulletin board mounted on the back wall. The pair of vintage club chairs she’d been eying at Park Place created a nice seating area in front of the desk. Christoff’s hand was visible in the bold grommet-top curtains flanking the windows.
She spied an envelope in the seat of the nice, shiny new office chair. Tears pricked her eyes as she retrieved it.
Dear Cecily,
Happy closing day! We’re so excited you’ve decided to stay and make your home here. You’ve been an enormous boon to us so we wanted to leave you a little welcome to get you started. Best of luck with your new business.
Norah, Cam, Christoff, Daniel, Beth, and Addison
“I’m going to cry,” she said.