“Because of the offers to buy it?”
She nodded. “You’ve heard about the man who arrived two days before you did. Theconsultant.” Mish lowered her voice to a hush. “He’s staying at the hotel. Seems nice, but he’s very determined to buy Moone’s Landing. Been talking to everyone, asking questions. Making noises about offering extranitstoanyone who leaves before the sale goes through.” She pushed back a stray lock of wavy hair. “My children do not like him.”
“Ah, yes.”Room seventeen.“I haven’t met him, yet.” Holly felt a moment of worry for this man’s welfare, before shrugging it off. No one was forcing him to stay, after all. “You should know I have no intention of selling,” she said firmly.
Mish’s face brightened. “That’s good to hear.Reallygood to hear.” She reached down and touched the head of her nearest child in a reassuring gesture. “My husband is working a deep-space salvage job. We’re staying here until he gets back because it’s impossible to move Uvian children. No one will take us, considering how, um, they are. If the station were sold…” She trailed off, but Holly understood. If the station were sold, Mish and her fourteen deadly children would have nowhere to go.
“I’mnotselling,” Holly said again.
Mish smiled, and this time it reached her eyes.
Holly said her goodbyes and began a slow, careful retreat from the garden. She made sure not to make any sudden movements that might alarm the children. They watched her go with unblinking eyes, their small bodies perfectly still, perfectly synchronized.
She made a mental note to look up the best self-defense methods to protect oneself against murderous Uvian children. Just in case.
Holly made it back to the path and walked toward the hotel. Her stomach was growling. Two people now had said that her cousin could not cook, so a meal in the hotel’s lounge was out of the question. Maybe Luv had a suggestion. Added to that were her worries about the real estate consultant. The man who was staying in room seventeen. The man who wanted to take Moone’s Landing away from her before she even had a chance to save it.
She thought about all the things she would say to him. How she would be polite but firm. How she would make it clear that she was not interested in selling, not now, not ever. How she would send him packing and threaten to send Mish’s kids after him if he refused to leave. No, she’dneverdo that last bit, but the mental image of a full-grown man hightailing it away from a pack of fourteen six-year-olds brought a chuckle up from the depths of her throat.
She had the speech half-composed in her head by the time she reached the hotel.
The door opened as she approached, and a man stepped out. They nearly collided, and would have, if Holly didn’t stop short when she did.
He was not as tall as she expected him to be, but he was good-looking in a way that made her think of icy tundras and predatory animals. He had dark, perfectly styled hair and sharp, blue-tinged cheekbones. His eyes were the color of a winter sky before a snow. His suit was impeccably tailored, of course, and he filled it out with defined muscle. He moved with an effortless grace that made Holly’s face flush with heat. She bet he’d never doubted himself a day in his life, while she was doubting every choice she’d made up to this very moment.
There was no question, really. This wasthe consultant. The shark who had come to circle her wounded outpost.
She opened her mouth to deliver her speech.
Not a single word came out.
Eight
The man smiled at her. It was a practiced smile and looked like it had been refined in front of mirrors and deployed in countless negotiations. “My apologies. I nearly ran you over.”
His voice was smooth.Cultured. It made Holly’s fingers curl into her palms.
“No harm done,” she managed, though her prepared speech had evaporated like water on a hot engine.
“You must be Mirth Moone, Charles’ heir. My records must be incorrect. I was expecting someone older.”
“I’m Holly Greene-Moone. My mother is Mirth Moone, the original inheritor,” she said. “She passed it on to me.”
“Ah, yes. The daughter who works for Sol-Arc Industries. A pleasure, Ms. Greene-Moone.” He extended a hand. “Rasker Vipp. I’m a consultant representing Rest ’N Recharge’s interest in this outpost. I believe you’ve heard of us?”
Holly stared at his hand for a moment before shaking it. His grip was firm and cool. “I have.”
Rest ’N Recharge. Of course. One of the two firms she had suspected were circling Moone’s Landing. They operated hundreds of rest stations across the quadrant, and every single one of them was identical. Prefabricated monstrosities whereevery surface was plastered with advertisements, the food was terrible, the beds were worse, and everything was horrendously overpriced. Travelers had no choice but to pay their premiums because there was nowhere else to stop. A captive audience, gouged at every turn.
And they wanted this station.
“Then you know why I’m here,” Rasker said.
“I do.”Oh, boy,Holly thought. She wasn’t managing more than two-word sentences. Embarrassing, when dealing with a man with more silk in his voice than in his suit.
He released her hand and tilted his head. “I had hoped to meet you after you had a chance to rest from your journey. Perhaps you can find time in your schedule to meet with me and hear my client’s proposal. They believe this moon has considerable potential. With the right development, it could become a premier way station between the new hub and Psion-9.”
“It alreadyisa way station,” Holly said.
