Nodding, I wasn’t sure I did.
“This arena project is a ruse. Your boss wants the land, and the way this deal is structured, he’s getting it for a deal. Or rather, a steal.”
All this time I’d thought William’s priority was the NHPL expansion. “What do you suggest? I feel like we’re backed into a corner here.”
Her smile told me she already had a plan.
“There’s the old mill site. It’s zoned industrial, but it’s been closed for a decade. It’s also prime real estate on the river. This is the parcel you should’ve been targeting from the beginning.”
I nodded. “It would be nice to see that eyesore redeveloped.”
She pulled up a satellite image and turned the screen toward me. “The only problem is it’s a brownfield site. Cleanup won’t be cheap.”
“William has a budget for cleanup,” I said. “If the purchase price is right.”
“You’re going rogue.” Charlotte chuckled as she jotted a note on a piece of paper. “I’ll speak to the owner and see what I can put together.”
“It could be a hard sell.” I rubbed my chin. “But at the end of the day, if it’s a better deal, it’s just business, right?”
“Just business.” She winked. “And, Beck?”
“Yeah?”
“My commission is five percent.”
I groaned. “You’re going to get me fired.”
“Maybe.” She handed me the file folder. “But at least you won’t get run out of town.”
I shook her hand. “You drive a hard bargain, Charlotte Brush.”
“I’m only Mrs. Brush at the rink.” She pointed to her letterhead: Charlotte O'Hare, Broker of Record. "I keep O'Hare for business. It reminds people I'm not just Logan's wife."
“Are you going to your husband’s game tonight?”
“Me and the entire town.”
By six o’clock,my nerves had officially set in. I was jittering worse than when I’d dressed for Game 7 in the Stanley Cup Finals. How could that be?
My body ached from shoveling, the throb in my lower back reminded me I wasn’t twenty-two anymore.
“Look who finally dragged his ass in,” Wick called as I stepped into the dressing room.
“I had to get my beauty sleep.”
“Bullshit.” Nick Tinsel grinned. “Evie said you rolled in at noon today, stinking like a drunk raccoon.”
“Yeah, well, your mom likes raccoons.” A mom joke, it was risky.
The room went quiet for a millisecond, then exploded.
Logan crossed the room and handed me a jersey. It was orange, the logo featured a dog holding a beer mug leaning overa garbage can. “Ignore them. They’re just jealous they didn’t get snowed in with a pretty girl.”
How did he know? “I’m not confirming anything.” I grabbed the sweater and took a seat next to Evan.
“Busted.” One of guys I hadn’t met yet waved at me. Behind him hung a reflective jacket with a snowplow logo.
“Alright,” Logan cut in. “Settle down. Diefenbunker is not here tonight, so that’s still a rumor. But there are a few Triple-A kids on their roster. They’re going to try and wear us down. Keep your shifts short. We’ll beat them with experience.”
