Chapter Twenty-Two
Holt
“We have four days to figure this out,” Oliver says.
I sink into my office chair and look at him.
Wade’s plans are displayed between us. A binder sits open with calculations from the accounting department. A file full of legal paperwork from our attorneys—things to consider, things to incorporate in the final contracts that might affect our negotiations—is bursting at its seams. Next to that mess is a stack of papers Boone dropped off with information regarding potential occupants of the retail space.
It’s a lot. In every way.
“This is a nightmare,” I tell him.
“As if I don’t already know.”
“What did Landry say in the voicemail again?” I ask.
“Which one?”
“About the ballpark offer I threw their way.”
Oliver snorts. “You are out of your fucking minds. That’s verbatim.”
“Shit.”
My brother leans forward. The plans crunch beneath his arms. Hisface shows signs of sleepless nights and an abundance of stress. It makes me feel guilty.
Very fucking guilty.
“Okay,” I say, pointing at a spot on the plans near the beach. “This is wasted area. Could we go higher here? Use this space better? I mean, if we do, we could double, maybe even triple the storefront. I know that’s adding a ton of shit on Wade and on Boone to sell later, but that makes me feel a whole hell of a lot better offering Landry what we’re gonna have to offer.”
“I keep looking at that space too. It’s the only one with the ability to return more revenue. But if we go higher, are we blocking the view from the tower in the back? That will make it less desirable.”
I sigh. “I don’t know. That’s why we have Wade. I’ll call him and see what he thinks.”
Oliver nods. “Yeah. Let’s try it. We’ve spent so much time and money on this thing already. If we wind up not making this deal …”
We exchange a look.
I know what he’s thinking. It’s the same thing that I realized might be an actual possibility on my way here this morning.
The numbers aren’t quite adding up to justify offering what we will have to in order to get Landry to sell. It’s absolutely worth it, though. It will trigger a tourism boon to that part of the city, and we’ll already have our foot in the door. We just need the final puzzle piece to make it all gel. I just have to find it.
I will. I know I will. I have to.
I just didn’t expect to be distracted right in the middle of this.
My mind goes to Blaire—the best distraction I’ve ever had. It occurred to me on the way here that I’m so distracted for the same reason I shouldn’t be: she’s leaving.
I can’t win.
Focusing on work should be easy because things with Blaire don’t matter. She’ll be out of here soon. But focusing on anything but her is impossible when I know she’ll be gone in a handful of days. It’s a double-edged sword.
“Are you okay?” Oliver asks.
“I’m fine.” I ignore the burn in my throat. “Let’s see what Wade thinks and reconvene this afternoon.”
Oliver blows out a breath and sits back. He watches me with the skilled eye of a little brother—one whose job is to pick up on bullshit and call you out on it.
