After meeting Emily, Asher had brought himself fully up to speed on the Welchton project. “They were one of the first to sell. If I remember correctly, they were quite happy with the offer we gave them.”
Emily’s expression remained carefully calm. “There isn’t much work in the area. I don’t blame them for taking the money.”
Asher watched her expression out of the corner of his eye. “Every single buyout ended with the seller’s satisfaction. Some held out for more money, but they all eventually came to an agreement both sides were satisfied with.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Some of those homes had been in families for generations. How do you feel about demolishing history?”
Asher turned his eyes back to the road. “It’s called progress, Emily. For something new to be built, something old must usually be torn down. Although your sentiments are quaint, they aren’t realistic. I offered above market price to your neighbors and they chose money over the history you’re suggesting I put value in. What does that tell you?”
Emily let out a harsh breath. “If you offer a loaf of bread to a starving man in exchange for his soul, who is at fault if he takes it? Him for not choosing the harder road, or you for not offering him another alternative?”
Asher knew it wasn’t the response she was aiming for, but he smiled. Although he didn’t agree with her view on the situation, it was refreshing to be with an intelligent woman with whom he could debate topics. “Your neighbors were hardly starving. What I did was give them a second chance to have a nest egg for retirement or pay for their children to go to college. My company requires a facility in this area. Would you prefer I offered the money to another town? You claim to care about your community, but do you? It seems to me you’re putting your own interests above theirs. They aren’t complaining, but they would be if they were still trapped in homes many of them could no longer afford.”
“That’s what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?”
Asher shrugged and met Emily’s eyes briefly. “It’s the way the world works, Emily. You’re naïve if you don’t see that.”
Emily turned to look out the window again. When she turned back she spoke quietly. “I don’t agree, and there’s nothing heroic or admirable about being jaded.”
“I never claimed to be heroic or asked for your admiration,” Asher said harshly. Their conversation had moved from interesting to uncomfortably personal.
“Wow. What happened to you? Your parents seem like wonderful, caring people. What made you afraid to be the same?”
Asher slammed on his brakes at a stop sign and gripped the steering wheel. “Fear has no place in my life, but you’re right, I’m nothing like my parents.”
Emily clasped her hands on her lap. “Isn’t it sad that’s the first thing we agree on?”
Asher cursed. Their trip wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned it. He’d confidently assumed he would be able to convince her to not only sell, but to spend the rest of the weekend celebrating that decision with him. He saw now that he’d been overly optimistic. Emily wasn’t what he’d expected at all. She wasn’t impressed by his wealth, and she was, by far, the most stubborn woman he’d ever come across. He was used to people retreating from his temper, but Emily wasn’t intimidated. In fact, her reprimand still hung in the air between them. Worse, she looked like she felt sorry for him.
Him.
Emily had evaluated him and clearly found him lacking in certain areas. He didn’t normally put much thought into what others thought of him, but Emily’s opinion mattered. He knew she found him attractive, but with her, he wanted more than that.
As they drove through the area of his proposed facility, they fell into silence. The windows and doors of the homes were boarded up. The lawns were overgrown. The area had the abandoned feel of a ghost town. This was a phase of development Asher had never witnessed in person. He’d read about it in reports. He’d seen photos of areas before the demolition commenced, but he’d never driven through a project site so early on.
He gave himself an internal shake. If he felt anything at all, it was because Emily had planted the idea in him that he should. There was nothing wrong with progress. Change and death were life’s only certainties.
Still, when he glanced over and saw Emily’s sad expression, he gritted his teeth. He felt compelled to say something, but there wasn’t much he could say. They had both made their positions clear.
As soon as he turned onto her street, he was taken aback by the contrast between her property and those around hers. Her building and the park-like lawns that surrounded it looked out of place among the abandoned homes. He parked in the paved lot beside it and walked around the car to open Emily’s door, but she had already let herself out.
Her expression warmed with pride as she looked the building over. “Welcome to the Harris Tactile Museum of Art.” When she turned to look at him her eyes were bright with tears. “We’re finally close to being ready to open.”
He wanted to shake her and tell her to look around. She may not want to see how the area had changed, but she was living in denial. There was a reason most museums were in or around cities. The traffic needed to keep a museum open was simply not there. Seeing the place in person reaffirmed his conviction that relocation was her only option.
As they approached the building, he inspected the exterior. He was well traveled and considered himself difficult to impress, but even in the early darkness of the late winter evening, the details in the molding were master carpentry. Just as Emily had said, the two-story home had been built with such attention to detail that it was surely a piece of art in itself.
They walked up the steps together, and Emily unlocked the front door. Asher expected to walk into a home that was in a chaotic state of renovation. Instead, he was surprised by how far along her museum was. The path that led to a payment booth was flanked by a railing, which displayed several Braille signs. Translations of the signs were posted beneath the Braille. Headsets hung on the wall beside the payment booth.
Emily walked ahead of Asher and touched one of the headsets. “This was one of the more expensive renovations, but we’re working on an audio tour for the entire museum. It
includes music and sounds that go along with the mood of each piece of art. All of our senses are important and even more so when one is limited to fewer of them.”
Asher followed Emily through the entrance and down a corridor flanked by large paintings on slanted boards. He stopped at one such station and ran his hand over a self-portrait of Vincent Van Gogh. “Amazing.”
Emily stopped beside him and said, “It’s a 3-D print donated to my family while my mother was still alive. The original is in a private collection, but I was able to convince the owner that copying the masterpiece for this medium would only increase its value.”
Asher looked around and asked, “I’m curious. Why are all the paintings in color?”
Emily stepped away and Asher followed. “There is a wide spectrum of blindness. Many people are visually impaired but can still see color. This allows them to connect what they feel to what they’re able to see.”
They walked down the main hall together. Off to one side, Asher spotted a room of paintings that were all in one color. He nodded toward it and Emily led the way inside. “My mother painted these. They’re an entirely different medium. 3D computer prints take the work of a sighted person and make it accessible for the blind. My mother was blind. Her works were her attempts to give everyone access to how she envisioned the world.”
Asher hesitated. Knowing that her mother had created it, and what it represented, gave the experience an emotional depth he wasn’t comfortable with.
Emily studied his face for a long moment then said, “Close your eyes.”
Asher didn’t like that she seemed aware of his level of discomfort. “How many paintings did your mother create?” he asked to distract her.
Emily took one of his hands beneath hers and placed it on one of the paintings. She moved his hand back and forth over the texture of the paint. “Focus on this one. You won’t understand what she did unless you let yourself experience it.”
Reluctantly, Asher closed his eyes. At first all he could think about was Emily’s touch, her nearness, how much just being next to her made him want her. With his eyes closed, he was more aware of how close she stood beside him, the sweet smell of her shampoo.
