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Ben East is supposed to be able to fix any problem, and even though I’m adhering to the terms of his bargain—I’m absolutely definitely not in love with Ben East—I’m still not sure how he can help. He can’t pin down the owner of the building and force him to sell, even if he does manage to track him down.

But Worth seems to think Ben is the key to everything.

Or maybe he’s just saying that, so I’ll give up when Ben can’t deliver what I want.

The train pulls up slightly earlier than scheduled and I’m at the offices of my realtor in ten minutes.

“Good to see you,” Freddie says, as he meets me in reception.

“And you. Have you had any progress on reaching the seller?”

“Still nothing.”

“When did you last reach out to their realtor?” I ask.

“Last week. They know we’re keen. We really haven’t put ourselves in the best negotiating position if the seller was ever to reappear. They know we’re very interested.”

I sigh. It’s a good point that I hadn’t really thought about.

“But you’ve got some other places for me to see today?” I ask. Freddie said if I came up to Boston, he could arrange a few viewings.

“I do. In fact, the first building is the one we’re standing in. Let me give you a tour.”

“But it’s not a hotel at the moment?”

“No, but having spoken to the planning department, there’s a good chance you’d be successful in getting the permits to convert it. And it’s a good space for tourist and business use. You’re smack-dab between the Four Seasons and the Newbury and you’re offering a cool, fresh alternative with views of the Common.”

What Freddie is saying might be right, but I don’t want to convert a building again, and Worth doesn’t either. “But converting a building is a lot. I’ve done it before and it takes a long time. And it’s a big risk.”

“I couldn’t not tell you about it. It’s such a good position.”

I smile at him, but it’s an I-hope-it-gets-better-from-here smile, although I’m not sure Freddie’s picking up on that. If Ben were here right now, he’d know a way of communicating that this wasn’t an option without offending Freddie.

“Our next stop is downtown,” Freddie says.

We head out of the building I just entered and into a cab that’s waiting for us on the curb. Boston is so different. Even the air smells different here, and the traffic is somehow less…aggressive. The city is just waking up while New York has been buzzing for hours already. It’s a world away.

It takes about five minutes to get to our next viewing. I get out of the green-and-white cab and am pleased to see a sign for The Royalton. I think. At least it’s already a hotel.

“This is the only place on the market where the building is actually up for sale, as well as the lease of the hotel.”

“Okay,” I say, looking up at the building. It’s definitely not a five-star hotel. But maybe it could be.

“Keep an open mind,” Freddie says. “You have very specific requirements and it’s going to take a little compromise.”

That doesn’t sound like the words of someone who knows he’s found the right property. It sounds like someone grasping for straws.

“The hotel manager knows we’re coming and he’s going to show us around.”

We climb the five steps to the entrance. Already that’s not great in terms of accessibility and it’s right on the street.

“There’s a lot of steps. Is there scope for a ramp?” I ask.

“I believe the city turned down their last application. But you never know.”

My heart sinks a little in my chest.

We head into the dimly lit foyer. It feels more like a bed-and-breakfast than a hotel. It’s small, and only made worse by the oversized reception desk that’s got dents and scratches all over it.