I loved it!
"We'd like to propose a compromise," he offered.
Across the bar, I saw Mickey come in.
He'd gotten some kind of signal—from Paddy, probably, who probably got a call from one of the Liams. Mickey sat down with Liam and Liam, looking like a man who just fancied a pint.
"What kind of compromise?" I asked.
Fergus opened his briefcase. "Shamrock Global Ventures is prepared to buy back what you have purchased for, let’s say, a twenty percent stake in aboutique property—a hundred rooms, a nine-hole course, minimal infrastructure. We believe this could be positioned as complementary to the existing village rather than in competition with it."
It was bullshit. This was a bribe. They wanted me on their side. They had the county council already. And who the fuck called a hundred-room property boutique?
I looked at him for a long moment. Then I looked at Cillian, who was doing his careful best to appear relaxed.
"Darlin’ Dee, could you come here for a minute?”
Fergus’s expression flickered—just briefly—because that wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected me to make this decision. He'd come to talk to the celebrity with the cheque book, not the woman who ran the pub.
His fault. I told the guy she was my girlfriend. He just wasn’t listening.
Dee walked up to me, and I took her hand in mine. She peered at the documents with the same expression she'd given the salmon delivery driver.
“Well, Jax, you’ll be getting a twenty percent stake in a twenty-five million euros project.” She looked at me, batting her eyelashes. “How much is that? I don’t have a head for numbers.”
“That would be five million euros,” Saoirse deadpanned as she placed a pint in front of one of the Liams with a thump.
Dee nodded appreciatively. “Nice! But”—she huffed, her hands now on her waist—" considering how much money you have, five million isn’t really gonna rock your boat, is it?”
Cillian gasped.
I smothered a grin.
Fergus did not look impressed as he added, “Jax, the five would be on top of us buying back all the land from you, and we can discuss your compensation for that as well.”
Before I could tell him no dice, Dee raised a finger in the air as she studied the documents Fergus had spread out on the table. "Where would this property be built?” she asked pleasantly.
"We'd work with the county to identify the least disruptive site," Fergus said.
"The hill field at the north end of the Brennan land?” she asked.
Fergus’s face gave nothing away, but Cillian's did. The man was a walking disaster who should not be bought when making a deal—he was an emotional neon sign. Now, Dee, was perfection with her eyelash flutters, and I don’t know my math act.
"The Brennan land," Dee continued, her voice level, "backs onto the nesting grounds for a protected species. A white-tailed eagle pair has been nesting there for nine years. Any construction within a certain radius requires a protected species impact assessment, a consultation period, and likely anAnBord Pleanálareview on top of the county process." She paused. "How's your timeline looking, Mr. Hartley?"
The silence in the pub was absolute.
Fergus looked at Dee for the first time as if he werefinallyseeing her. "You're well informed."
"I'm from here, Mr. Hartley.”
Cillian leaned forward. "Dee, don't let pride?—"
"Cillian," I said.
He looked at me.
"Shut the feck up."
