Come on already! It’s a lot. “Honey, I know that you have a kind heart under all that gruff, but I’m not going to let you do that. You just want to help, and that’s so generous of you, honestly, I’m touched, but it’s just too much money.”
He gives me the same look he’s been giving me since we were six.
Determined.
If someone said he can’t do something, Brad just went right ahead and did it.
But I’m not using reverse psychology on him. I don’t want him to do this.
No matter what he says, this offer is just too much money to get my head around.
And I can’t deal with it, or him looking at me the way he is. His head tilted, his eyes sincere, that delectable pursed mouth seems to be packed with more meaning than I know what to do with.
Chapter Nine
BRADLEY
Honey?
Honey.
I can’t even form words.
One thing she should know about me by now is I never joke when it comes to money or investment properties. The other is, she can’t stop me from helping her and buying the building. Yes, I believe it’s a smart business investment and the building itself is amazing, but my motivation in the bakery is obviously purely Chelsea based. And I’ll be doing whatever it takes for her to stay in the game. Period.
However much it costs is irrelevant. I’m going to have a chat with Dad about dipping into my future trust fund a little if I need to.
I’m glad she trusts me to watch Deaton for her and take him to practice while she has to work, and truth be told, I’m looking forward to spending some time with him. He’s a great kid.c
Yesterday’s conversation about the building has been playing in my head over and over again. Especially after she fed me pizza and told me profusely she would figure something out. The only thing to figure out, in my opinion, is the finer details about the auction. And I’m already looking into it.
Later that day, before Deaton’s soccer practice, Noah, Deaton and I are doing the flyer drop on foot. Sure, we could post the flyers out, or get someone in the office to do it, but when Dad first brought us into this industry, he taught us that it’s never above us to be out there on the street talking to people and drumming up business ourselves. It supposedly keeps you grounded.
Okay, we don’t get a lot of spare time to hit the streets, but when we do, it certainly is an experience. I have a way with words, and I can get along with most people in a business setting, but I am known to be socially awkward at times. Or as Mason likes to call me; an asshat. But the main thing is Deaton is enjoying posting the business flyers through the letter boxes.
“Are we having fun yet?” I laugh as Deaton passes over the bag of mini donuts his mom made us for this afternoon. They’re covered in cinnamon sugar and just melt in your mouth.
“I am!” Deaton jumps up in the air with enough enthusiasm for the three of us.
“Why are we doing this again?” Noah lifts one eyebrow.
“Dad always says it’s good for the soul,” I reply, knowing I probably sound more like Josh right now, but it is what it is. “Remember when he had us stand in the middle of downtown LA and approach random strangers, all in the aid of training and getting used to rejection?”
Noah’s eyes widen. “Thank f— umm, fudge, those days are over,” he quickly corrects, forgetting for a second we have a six-year-old in tow.
“Your dad did what?” Deaton asks, intrigued, just when we thought he wasn’t really listening.
“He wanted to get us used to talking to strangers early on, and facing rejection. That way, when we were faced with it in everyday life in the realtor business, it wouldn’t be so harsh,” I explain. “The world can be an unkind place sometimes.”
“That sounds really scary.” Deaton pulls a face.
“It was,” Noah agrees. “But it definitely gets you out of your comfort zone. And when you get your first ‘yes’, well, it makes it all worth it.”
“You mean someone said yes and wanted to sell their house?” Deaton asks, catching on, his eyes wide as he pictures it.
“Yup, that’s right,” Noah says. “You know, we should send Brad downtown, Deat, just for fun to see if he’s still got the winning charm.”
“That’s a great idea!” Deaton laughs, shoving a bite of donut in his mouth.
