The man she had insulted for five uninterrupted minutes.
The man who could decide whether her months of work meant anything.
Nicholas studied the drawings.
“May I?”
Maggie stepped aside.
“Of course.”
He examined the plans.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he pointed toward the rear service corridor.
“What's this?”
“A proposed workshop space.”
“For what?”
“Set construction, scenic painting, basic carpentry. Classes for young people interested in theater work.”
“Wouldn't that be expensive?”
“Not if we partnered with local trade organizations.”
He looked at her.
“You've spoken to them?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Two have expressed interest.”
He studied her again.
“You've been busy.”
Maggie folded her arms.
“Someone had to be.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
The banker cleared his throat.
“Nicholas, I think we ought to discuss the broader development potential.”
“We will.”
“The property is exceptionally valuable.”
“I know.”
“The current structure occupies a prime commercial location.”
“I know that too.”
Nicholas looked back at the drawings.
“Miss Bennett, how much time would you need to prepare a complete feasibility study?”
Maggie blinked.
“A complete study?”
“Engineering, renovation costs, operating projections, possible tenants, financing.”
She gathered herself.
“Six weeks.”
“Four.”
She stared.
“Four?”
“Would that be impossible?”
Maggie thought of the weeks ahead.
Her job.
Her rent.
The countless hours she would need.
Then she looked at the drawings.
“No.”
Nicholas nodded.
“Good. Four weeks.”
Mr. Price frowned.
“Nicholas, the development committee has already—”
“Authorized a preliminary review. Not a demolition contract.”
The banker fell silent.
Nicholas turned toward Frances.
“Arrange access to the original building records. Miss Bennett may need them.”
Frances nodded.
“Certainly.”
Maggie looked at him.
“Does this mean you'll consider the restoration?”
“It means I'll consider a proposal supported by convincing figures.”
“That's all I'm asking.”
He smiled slightly.
“I'm beginning to doubt that.”
She tilted her head.
“Why?”
“Because you strike me as a woman who seldom stops asking.”
Before she could answer, a woman in an elegant ivory gown approached.
She was tall, blond, and extraordinarily beautiful, with a polished sophistication that made Maggie suddenly conscious of the lipstick she had reapplied in a taxi.
“Nicholas.”
The woman touched his arm.
“I've been looking everywhere for you.”
He turned.
“Isabelle.”