In Gina’s opinion, it wasn’t a good way to negotiate a lease. But again, she kept her mouth shut.
Sawyer tried to change the tenor of the conversation by getting right to the heart of the matter. “What were you thinking in terms of rent?”
“A triple-net lease. I couldn’t afford to do anything more than fifteen-hundred a month and even that’s a stretch.”
At least the guy was offering to pay for common area maintenance and insurance on top of his base rent. But $1500 wasn’t much. With the flower growers, the Daltons had their crop to fall back on if the girls stiffed them on the rent.
“How do you feel about letting lookie-loos watch you work?” Cash asked. “We’re trying to set this whole thing up as an agritourism type of attraction. Everything we do here, including the furniture, is tied to the land, tied to the resources that come with ranching and farming.”
“I’ve got no problem with that. In fact, I like it.” There was that smile again. He wasn’t nearly as good-looking as Sawyer, but one look at Ted the saddlemaker and the ladies of Dry Creek were going to wet their panties.
Sawyer shot her a look when she stared too long. Ordinarily, she would’ve told him to get over himself. But she sort of liked that he was being territorial. They’d never discussed their friendship or put any kind of label on it. But for the last seven days they’d spent the night together, splitting their time between the cabin and Sawyer’s place. He’d made it seem like it was in case any more tabloid reporters showed up. But she knew better.
They’d spent those nights talking even more than having sex, which was saying something. She’d never had this much sex in her life.
“If you’re into it we can make this work,” Jace told Ted. “But before we start building anything, we’ll need a contract. Can we send something over later today?”
“We good on the price?” Ted rubbed his chin.
No, Gina thought they needed to negotiate for something higher. But Jace nodded.
“Then we got ourselves a deal.” Ted shook everyone’s hand at the table. When it came to Gina’s turn, she reluctantly stuck out her hand. It was easier than explaining that she wasn’t part of the deal and no one appeared to mind that she’d been included.
“So what’s your role here?” he asked her. “You doing a farm-to-table restaurant as part of this project?”
Shit. He knew who she was.
Sawyer stepped in before she stumbled over her own tongue, so caught off guard by the question. “Gina’s just visiting for a while. If you could keep that on the QT we’d really appreciate it. Otherwise she gets hounded by the press. The kind of press who peers through your blinds at night or chases you down the highway at high speed, if you know what I mean?”
Ted stood and swiped his hat off the table. “Never saw her before in my life.” He winked and adjusted his Stetson on his head, then turned to the Daltons. “Looking forward to doing business with you. And by the way, everyone calls me Tuff. T-U-F-F. Not Ted.”
“Tuff,” Cash repeated and shook his hand. “We’ll get that contract over to you. In the meantime, why don’t you email us the kind of square footage you think you’ll need. You can send it to Aubrey. She and Charlie are heading up this operation.” He looked over at his wife with pride shining in his eyes.
Oh, to be loved like that. Gina couldn’t even imagine it.
Tuff took off. At the sound of his truck engine they all started talking at once.
Jace stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a whistle. “One at a time.”
“Fifteen-hundred bucks a month ain’t bad,” Cash said.
Gina thought it was piss-poor. In LA, people were paying more than three dollars a square foot for crappy locations. West Hollywood and Beverly Hills were fetching as much as nine bucks. Dry Creek Ranch might not have the cachet of Beverly Hills, but the man was selling saddles, for goodness sake. Between a storefront and a studio, she estimated Tuff would need at least a thousand square feet, minimum. Fifteen-hundred bucks a month was a steal, especially with common area maintenance and insurance.
“I’m going to add my two cents’ here for what it’s worth. Don’t make the lease for any more than a year. Personally, I think you could get twice that rent.”
Five pairs of eyes stared at her.
“If the project takes off, Ted…Tuff…will do well. Don’t box yourself into a corner. The first year, fine. It’s still an experiment. But after that, renegotiate.”
“I think she’s right,” Sawyer said. “I liked him. I like what he does and how it’ll fit in with what we’re trying to do here. But let’s stay fluid as far as the rent’s concerned. Who knows where this thing will lead?”
“All right,” Cash agreed. “A one-year lease for now. Then we’ll reassess. We’ve got to come to terms on the build-out, especially if we’re planning to have this done by winter. Do we want new construction or something already built? We’ll also have to put in some kind of parking. A weedy lot isn’t going to suffice, especially when the rain comes and we’ve got mud. There’s also a separate road to consider. I’m not exactly thrilled about a parade of cars going up and down our driveway. This will all cost money. Money we don’t have.”
“We can do a gravel lot,” Jace said. “I know a guy who can do it cheap. I think we hold off on a new road until we see what kind of traffic we get. As far as our storefronts, we build them ourselves. Use Jeb Guthrie to do the plumbing and Cole Electric to wire the places. Money? We get a loan.”
Cash let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t like borrowing against the land. Look how well that worked out for Randy Beals. How much do we stand to make from the cattle this year?”
Sawyer reached inside his pocket for his phone and did a quick search. “It should be good as long as these beef prices hold. But if we use the revenue for the business center we’ll clean ourselves out. No reserves. I don’t like that, either.”
