Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“Crank money! What else? The kids who come boating in the spring and summer are always high on something. It’s all over town,” the old woman snaps, shaking her head.
My heart drops into my gut.
Okay. Yeah. Miles is right.
I see the urgency now.
We have to dump some good press, pronto, if we want any hope of burying this dreck.
And with creative still plodding along, trying to come up with content that doesn’t suck, that means it’s up to me.
I don’t get much sleep.
The nightmares come fast and furious.
Bee Harbor, up on the auction block because I can’t afford the property taxes anymore.
An arson attempt that kills my business and wipes out my savings.
Then the new owner, leveling the place and selling off the land to some investor who turns it into a strip mall.
Only, my alarm clock saves me from more punishment.
On my way to the office, my phone rings. Pinnacle Pointe Legal flashes across my screen. “Hello?”
“Miss Landers, it’s Waldo. Is this a good time?”
“I’m almost at work, but what did you find?”
There’s a moment of silence.
Oh, boy.
“I researched your grandmother’s will extensively, diving deep into the property records,” he begins.
“Let me guess. I can’t sell, can I?” I whisper.
“You can. In three years.”
“Great. Maybe I’ll still have a good offer then.” And if miracles still happen, maybe Pinnacle Pointe won’t be a ghost town with a bad reputation.
“There is one exception,” Waldo says quietly.
“What’s that? And why didn’t you mention any of this when you first explained the will?”
“There’s a confidentiality clause. I was only supposed to mention it if you directly asked. Miss Landers, it was months ago, and I do a lot of wills in an aging town like this. That’s why I had to go back and reread everything, especially with a property of this size. But the confidentiality clause stopped me from explaining it up front.”
I sigh. “Okay. What’s the exception?”
“Your grandmother specified a potential buyer. If an offer appears from this specific buyer before the three-year holding period is up, then you’re welcome to sell to Lottie’s preferred buyer at any time of your choosing.”
My stomach drops. “Preferred buyer?”
“Yes, it’s—”
Don’t say it.
Don’t say his name.
I already know.
“Mr. Miles Cromwell. The man who owns the neighboring property. If you’re interested in selling, I could certainly reach out to him for you.”
Wouldn’t that be lovely?
“That won’t be necessary,” I rush out. I should end the call now when I have a million things to do and not enough time. I think Waldo has told me what he knows, but I don’t hang up just yet.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asks.
“I just don’t understand. Why would she do this?”
“The conditions? Well, sometimes when you’re leaving something with significant value to a younger heir, it helps them make informed decisions. Your grandmother probably believed she was protecting you.”
“But the one buyer—why him?”
He laughs. “That part, I don’t know. I’ve seen very few cases like this involving a neighbor, and in my experience, when it happens, the surviving family usually understands the whys better than I do. But Lottie always was eccentric, bless her heart.”
That’s a freaking understatement.
Just how close was Miles to my grandmother? How did she ever stand him?
“Okay, well, I’m glad that’s cleared up,” I lie. “Thank you.”
Now I cut the call.
Wow.
Wowww.
I don’t know whether to be touched or freaked out that Gram basically wanted to force the prince of arrogance into my life.
For what?
It’s like some quirky rom-com setup, but without the effort a man makes to win the leading lady over and fix everything.
Sighing, I push the button for the elevator and step inside.
So, I’ll admit he might have good intentions—sometimes? Maybe?—but he’s no romantic. How did Gram think he was someone worth—worth what?
Worth knowing?
We can check that one off the list.
Besides some quick cash, I’m not sure what I’ve gained by knowing him.
Befriending? After some of the stunts he’s pulled, I don’t want to be friends.
Becoming more?
Yeah, no. That ended with the gravity-defying sex I hate that I still have stuck in my head.
He flat-out told me it was a mistake, and honestly, he was right.
I’m still seething at the thought and snickering bitterly to myself when the elevator doors open and I step out.
It’s a hard truth to choke down, but at least I know where we stand.
My choices are either keep living next to him, or abandon ship and sell, giving Miles Cromwell what he’s been angling for this whole time.
My phone dings.
Speak of the literal devil.
Miles: Status update, please. I need to know where we’re at.
My fingers fly over the screen, typing.
I sent it to Louise on my way in. Ask her.
A few more texts ping, but I ignore them, diving into my work instead. The sooner this gets done, the faster I’ll be through with him.