Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I know where he was.” In a town office boardroom ten minutes before a closed- door session with the town council, Michelle on one side, Ferris Gump, Garrett, Richard Harrington, and the town’s building inspector on the other. A row of suits, armed and ready.
According to Michelle’s recounting, Garrett and Richard sat quietly while Gump explained that the town’s inspector was scheduled to do a routine inspection of several buildings, including Dieter’s. The exact date of that inspection was to be determined—it could happen anytime. It could happen today, at which point the inspector was certain he would find an issue worthy of condemning the century-old building and forcing the current tenants out immediately.
Richard then calmly explained that if this were to happen, HG would not be willing to invest the funds to reverse the decision, regardless of how trivial, which would then force the town to issue an order for demolition.
Michelle immediately saw this for what it was—HG and the mayor taking advantage of a clause in the town’s historical ordinances that states a condemned building can’t be classified as a historical landmark.
Of course, the mayor played into it, asking Michelle if she wanted to be responsible for a resident and several business owners thrown out into the cold suddenly.
Of course she didn’t.
That’s when Garrett stepped in, playing the good cop to his uncle’s bad. If Michelle backs off on trying to stall the permits with this historic claim, HG will fix any issues that come up should the inspector visit the property in the coming weeks. Beyond that, in a show of goodwill, HG would see what they could salvage of the original building as part of their new build. No promises, though.
Except for the unspoken one—that the town was ready to condemn the building at any point, as needed, permanently blocking the path to landmark designation.
It’s done. It’s over. HG has won, and Garrett knew it when he was squaring off against me.
“Where is Garrett now?” I push.
She flinches, like she’s not sure she should answer this deranged woman who stormed in. “He left for New York. He won’t be back until next week.”
“Good. When you talk to him next, tell him the longer he stays away, the better for him.”
Chapter Sixteen
Icy air nips at my bare legs as we traipse down the sidewalk, dodging other pedestrians. The five blocks from Dean’s friend’s place to the engagement party didn’t seem too far a walk when I was stalling to get here. Now I’m wishing we’d taken Dean’s suggestion of a taxi—the solid line of yellow crawling along the street would have bought me more time and kept frostbite away.
According to my GPS, the Waltons’ building is on the corner ahead—a boxy, fifteen-story structure with tan-colored facade and decorative iron grates covering the windows of the first floor. There are countless buildings like it along this street, but also ones far taller and more elaborate, all with condos valued at no less than five million and in many cases, several times that.
This is Sara’s world, the one she grew up in. And, by default, it’s about to become my brother’s world. The guy whose favorite meal is canned spaghetti on buttered Wonder Bread.
It’s a jarring thought, but the only one I can focus on is that I’m about to face Bill and Isabelle, and there isn’t a store of pastries to hide behind. I’ve been dreading this moment since I climbed into Dean’s truck this afternoon.
I swallow against my nerves and cling tighter to his brawny arm. “My code word for tonight is sucker punch.” It’s what I’d pay money to watch someone deliver to the bastard.
Dean’s face splits with a wide grin. “How the hell are you going to work that into a sentence?”
“You doubt me?”
“If there’s one thing I don’t doubt, it’s you when you set your mind to something.” He adjusts the collar of his charcoal wool jacket with a leather-gloved hand as if it were bothering him.
“You clean up good, you know that?”
He flashes a crooked smile that shows off a dimple. “You knew that. Remember the auction?”
I hum with agreement. He did look good in head-to-toe black.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” His gaze drops, but the provocative cherry-red, V-slit maxi dress I bought for tonight is hidden beneath my black wool trench coat. “I like those shoes.”
These five-inch gold stilettos might kill me before the night is through, but there was no other option. They were always Bill’s downfall when I strolled into the bedroom wearing nothing else. “Not so bad? Please, I saw your pants tent the second I stepped out of the bathroom.” Which I hogged for nearly two hours while getting ready.
His cheeks, already red-tinged from the cold, flush a shade darker. “Come on, you can’t blame me. No man’s going to be able to look away when you stroll in. Especially when you’re in man-eater mode.”