“But not enough to allow you the use of his horses and carriage for free?” I arch a brow.
“He deserves to be paid for his time and services.”
“Don’t you think you do, too? All of this ridiculousness…” I wave my hand at nothing in particular, everything excessive with an overabundance of Christmas cheer. “It’s making you lose money. There’s no profit in any of it.”
“Maybe not on a line item, but some of our loyal customers have come to expect certain things over the years. I’m happy to give them a place to slow down for a while and spend time with their families.”
“Nobody wants to spend time with their families,” I scoff, rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of the idea that kids these days would willingly sit in a car for hours just to have their photo taken with a fake Santa or stroll through a row of booths containing cheesy Christmas trinkets. They’d much rather stay home and play video games. Or watch TV. Not endure a day filled with forced holiday cheer just to snap a few Instagram-worthy photos that make them look like a happy family when nothing could be further from the truth.
“If that’s what you think, then I feel sorry for you.” She places her hands on her hips, her mouth turned into a determined line. “Now if you don’t mind, I have an inn to run and a wasteful Christmas season to plan.”
I part my lips to renew my argument yet again, but she holds up a hand, cutting me off.
“Don’t waste your breath, Mr. Reed. I’m not selling.”
“Do you have over a half-million dollars stashed away I don’t know about? Maybe in one of the stockings I saw hanging from the chimney with care?” I ask mockingly.
“I don’t, but that doesn’t matter.” She holds her head high, nothing but raw determination filling her expression. “I manifested a solution. Put good energy out into the universe.”
I’m not sure what I expected her to say, but it wasn’t this.
Since I started in the real estate industry, first by flipping houses, then trying my hand at commercial real estate development in the hopes of making millions, I’ve dealt with my fair share of sellers who’ve been reluctant to part with a piece of property, regardless of their inability to afford it any longer. I don’t recall a single one of them saying anything remotely like this. Most people, even those less than eager to sell, are realistic about the numbers. They know if they want to have anything to pass down to their kids, they need to accept my offer.
This woman is anything but realistic.
“Manifested a solution?” I repeat, not entirely sure what that means.
“I put it out into the universe that I need a solution, so I’m sure the universe will answer my call.”
The furrow in my brow deepens. “And because you put it out into the universe, you think it will just…happen?” I can’t hide the skepticism in my voice. I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.
This is why Daniel should be here. He knows how to charm people. Hell, he probably would have helped her manifest good vibes to the point where she decided that maybe he was the solution she asked the universe to send her way.
“That’s what manifesting is. I’m manifesting only good things.” Her lips turn down into a scowl, the vein in her forehead pulsing.
I shouldn’t find it as attractive as I do, but my god, there’s something incredibly appealing about the way she looks at me, the fire in her eyes.
“And you’re putting a serious damper on the positive energy and growth mindset I’m trying to maintain. Enough of your bad juju and negative energy.” She closes her eyes, pinching her forefinger and thumb together on each hand, as if meditating. “You may leave.”
I stare at her for several long moments, feeling like I’m in the middle of a cruel joke. Or a dream.
How can anyone think that as long as you manifest something, it’ll happen? Life doesn’t work that way. If you want something, you have to work for it. No amount of manifestation or positive energy matters. All that does is hard work and perseverance.
“Leave,” she repeats after several moments, her eyes still closed.
I set my jaw, wracking my brain for something I can say to get this woman to listen to reason.
I thought this would be a walk in the park, especially considering the massive debt she currently owes.
Apparently, that doesn’t matter to her.
“I’ll leave my latest offer with you in case you misplaced the last one.” I set it onto her desk. “I look forward to receiving your counter, Ms. Holley.”
She doesn’t respond, keeping her eyes closed as she murmurs what sounds like daily affirmations.
As I slip out of the office and hear her sing the unmistakable melody to “You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch”, followed by the sound of the shredder, I can’t help but chuckle.
One thing is certain. Parker Holley is one of the most intriguing women I’ve met in quite some time, even if slightly infuriating.
