She hit redial on her phone. A woman answered. “Mrs. Barrington?”
“Emily? Do call me Sophie. Mrs. Barrington sounds like I’m one hundred years old.” Sophie’s next comment was directed to her husband, Dale. “It’s the woman from New Hampshire who is building a museum.” She paused as if listening to a response from her husband before saying, “Did you make it to Boston?”
“I did. I’m actually driving back to my hotel in Newton.”
“That’s only a town over from us.”
I know. “What a coincidence,” Emily said instead.
“My husband and I are just about to have lunch. If you have time, we’d love to meet you in person. You could tell us all about your meeting with our son.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Emily said with just the right amount of pleased surprise.
Emily pulled into a highway rest area and typed the address into her GPS. She told Sophie she’d be there in less than an hour. After hanging up, she stayed in her car, taking deep breaths and telling herself she was doing the right thing.
When her nerves had settled somewhat, she called her best friend for support. It rang through to voice mail the first time, but Emily called back. Come on, Celeste. Pick up.
When Celeste finally answered, she said, “I’m in a meeting with a client. Can we talk later?”
“This is an emergency.”
“I need to take this call. Tim, could you take over for a minute? I’ll be right back,” Celeste said. A moment later, she asked, “Did you break down on the side of the road? Are you hurt?”
“My car is fine. I’m fine.”
“Then what’s the emergency? I’m meeting with a new client right now who has flown in from New York. This could be big, Em.”
Emily instantly felt badly about interrupting her, but they’d been best friends since kindergarten and, although Celeste had moved to Boston after college, they’d kept that friendship close by staying involved in each other’s lives. “Remember how I told you I was going to go see Asher Barrington? I just left that meeting. It didn’t go well. So, I’m moving onto Plan B.”
“Wait, is that the crazy idea you had about befriending his parents and guilting him into moving his facility?”
“It’s not crazy. Some people listen to their parents. It’s worth a shot, anyway.”
“Don’t do this. I know a few lawyers. I’ll call one tomorrow.”
“I don’t have money for a big-city lawyer. All my money is tied up in the museum. You know that.”
Celeste sighed. “I could try to talk one of them into doing it pro bono.”
Emily gripped the steering wheel tightly. “You think they’d take on B&H for free?”
Celeste made a frustrated sound. “No, probably not. You really went to see Asher Barrington?”
“Yes, and you would have been proud of me. I didn’t let him intimidate me. I made it clear I wouldn’t sell my land at any price.”
“That must not have gone over well. What did he say?”
“He said he always gets what he wants.”
“Oh, boy. And then?”
“I told him he wouldn’t this time. And I walked out.”
“And now you’re off to meet his parents?”
Emily looked around at the parking lot she hadn’t yet built up the nerve to leave. “It’s the only way, Celeste. He doesn’t care who he hurts or even about the facility he’s building up there. He didn’t even know how far along the project was. Maybe he won’t care what his parents think either, but what other choice do I have? The museum is so close to being ready to open its doors. I can’t let him take that from me, from everyone who would enjoy it.”
“Em, this has trouble written all over it. I don’t like it.”
“That’s not good. I was hoping you could give me one of your pep talks. I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be.”
“That’s because you know this is wrong. Emily, you don’t have a manipulative bone in your body. You’ve never been a good liar. Oh my God, remember that time you accidentally walked out of a store with an extra item in your cart and almost got arrested because you had to return it and confess? Anyone else would have left it there or taken it with them and not thought twice about it, but you couldn’t. It’s part of what I love about you, but it’s also why this will never work.”
Emily put her car in drive and pulled back out onto the highway. “I can’t be that person right now, Celeste. I have to be stronger than that. Tell me this can work. Even if you don’t believe it. Just say it. I need to hear it.”
After a long quiet moment, Celeste said, “If anyone can get someone’s parents to love them, it’s you, Emily. Just be careful. Yes, your mother wanted you to finish her dream, but your safety would have mattered to her more than any building ever could.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“You’re way out of your league, Em, and I’m saying this as a friend who loves you like a sister. You’re not a fighter; you never have been. Do you remember when Donnie Allan tried to rough you up for your lunch money? I told you to punch him in the face. You sold brownies from the end of your driveway for a week to raise enough money so you could both have lunch.”
“Yes, and it worked. I gave him the money, but I was firm that it was a one-time deal. He never bothered me again after that.”
“That’s because I threatened to tell everyone he wore his sister’s underpants if he didn’t leave you alone.”
“Oh my God, you never said a word.”
Celeste made a strangled sound. “You’re a nice person, Em. There’s nothing wrong with that. You like to believe there is good in everyone, but sometimes there isn’t. Donnie was a bully. Your way doesn’t win against that. I’m afraid nice won’t win with B&H either. I wish I had the connections to help you with this, but I don’t.”
A lump of emotion clogged Emily’s throat and made it difficult to get the next words out. “I don’t have a Plan C. This is it. If I go home now, it’s over. I’m doing this, Celeste. Even if it’s the craziest idea you’ve ever heard, tell me it’ll work. I need my best friend to believe in me right now.”
In a tone that revealed how much Emily’s plea had moved Celeste, she said, “You’ve got this, Emily. Call me after you win his family over.”
*
After a long jog along the Charles River, Asher took the elevator up to his penthouse apartment in Beacon Hill. He downed a glass of water and checked the messages on his phone while heading toward his bedroom. His mother had called but hadn’t left a voice message.
He threw his phone on his bed and stripped. He’d shower, have something quick to eat, then deal with whatever manner of family crisis she wanted his help with this time. As the oldest of six children, there was always something.