“But difficult.”
For the first time since the evening in the elevator, neither had a joke ready.
They stood beneath the painted stars, listening to the distant sound of workmen hammering boards across the doors.
Then Maggie said quietly, “I'm not giving up.”
Nicholas looked at her.
“I know.”
“Even if the board rejects it.”
“I know.”
She swallowed.
“I don't expect you to save it for me.”
He stepped closer.
“Maggie.”
She raised her eyes.
“I know,” he said gently.
For a moment, she leaned into his embrace.
He held her beneath the faded grandeur of the theater lobby while rain began tapping against the stained-glass windows.
Neither spoke.
It was the first time Maggie had allowed herself to cry in front of him.
And Nicholas, who had spent years believing that every problem demanded an immediate solution, discovered that sometimes the most useful thing a man could do was simply remain beside someone until she was ready to stand again.
Two nights later, Maggie received the news from a television broadcast.
She was eating dinner at Tessa's apartment when a local business report appeared on the screen.
The announcer stood before an image of the Starlight's marquee.
“Sterling Properties has confirmed that preliminary demolition preparations may proceed at the historic Starlight Theatre, following the discovery of significant structural deterioration.”
Maggie stopped chewing.
Tessa reached for the remote.
The report continued.
“Company chairman Walter Sterling approved the site-clearance authorization earlier this month. A final decision regarding redevelopment is expected following next week's board review.”
Maggie stared at the screen.
A photograph of Nicholas appeared.
The reporter continued.
“President Nicholas Sterling has declined to comment on the company's final plans.”
Tessa slowly lowered the remote.
“Maggie.”
She did not answer.
She stood.
Walked to the telephone.
And dialed Nicholas's private number.
Frances answered.
“Mr. Sterling's office.”
“Frances. It's Maggie.”
There was a pause.
“Miss Bennett.”
“Is Nick there?”
“I'm afraid he's in a meeting.”
“Is it about the Starlight?”
Another pause.
“Maggie, I think you should speak to him directly.”
“Please tell me something.”
Frances was silent.
Maggie closed her eyes.
“Did Nicholas know Walter Sterling had authorized demolition preparations?”
“Yes.”
The word landed like a blow.
Maggie gripped the telephone.
“When?”
“Several days ago.”
She swallowed.
“And he didn't tell me.”
Frances sounded distressed.
“Maggie—”
“Thank you.”
She hung up.
Tessa stood in the kitchen doorway.
“What happened?”
Maggie stared at the telephone.
For weeks, she had trusted Nicholas.
She had believed he was different from the men who smiled at her drawings while making decisions in rooms where she was not invited.
He had listened.
Encouraged her.
Kissed her.
And all the while, he had known that plans were already moving forward to demolish the theater.
Perhaps the authorization had been preliminary.
Perhaps he had intended to stop it.