Free A Corisi Christmas (Legacy Collection #7) by Ruth Cardello Page B

a counterproposal you can live with. I’ll give you my email. You can send it to me personally, and I’ll make sure it’s at least considered.”
    She leaned toward him and threatened, “I may not have money, but I care about this museum, and other people will, too. I won’t be sending you a counteroffer, because I’m not selling.”
    A corner of his mouth curled in a way that sent waves of heat through Emily. “I always get what I want, Ms. Harris.”
    Emily stepped back. “Not this time.” She walked out and closed the door firmly behind her, taking a brief moment to lean against it for support before pushing off. She defiantly moved her wayward curl off her face and held her head high as she walked past the desk of Asher Barrington’s snooty assistant.

Chapter Two
    I can’t believe I thought he’d care. What a pompous jackass. “I always get what I want.” Well, not this time, buddy. My mother didn’t let anything stop her from following her dreams, and I won’t let someone like you stop me from building a tribute to her. As she drove out of Boston and into one of the surrounding suburbs, she rehashed her heated meeting with Mr. I’ll make sure it’s at least considered Barrington again and again. Jerk.
    I should have kept my cool. I should have spoken more about my mother and the reason the museum needs to be where I’m building it.
    Not that he probably would have cared. Bastard.
    I was hoping to do this the easy way, but it looks like I have to go with plan B.
    Obstacles are opportunities if you’re brave enough to take them on. That was what her mother had always said. Emily refused to give up. Determination was in her genes just as surely as art was.
    Her mother, Wendy Harris, had lived a life that had inspired everyone who knew her. Born blind, she hadn’t let that stop her from becoming an artist, a painter at that. Her works were uniquely tactile. She’d pushed the limits of what was considered a painting and had developed a technique that brought a three-dimensional element to her artwork.
    Emily’s own appreciation for art had been acquired at her mother’s knee. They’d spent countless afternoons in museums. Her mother would ask Emily to describe a painting, first with what she saw, but then with greater detail about how the painting made her feel. Eventually Emily began to use clay to make the paintings her mother loved even more accessible to her.
    Her mother had dreamed of creating a museum where people could run their hands over every piece of artwork displayed. A place where those who could not see were not banned from experiencing masterpieces. Nothing would stop Emily from making that museum a reality.
    Determination made it possible for Emily to consider the unthinkable. Plan B was bold and more than a little underhanded. To some degree she felt like a snitch, but she steeled herself against her doubts. She was desperate.
    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