Izzy was sloppy when he panicked. Jenna was not.
The offer on the shop had been a probe.
This—this was pressure.
Silas made a call.
Then another.
Quiet ones. Efficient ones.
By the time Becca would realize what was happening, three doors would already be closed to Izzy—and one would be opening in her favor.
She wouldn’t know why.
Not yet.
The shop smelled like antiseptic and ink—familiar, grounding.
Becca liked getting there early. Before the chairs filled. Before the music came on. Before people’s opinions had time to follow her through the door.
She set her bag down behind the counter, flipped on the lights, and let herself breathe for a moment.
Then her phone buzzed.
Once.
She didn’t look right away.
Something in her chest tightened like it already knew.
When she finally picked it up, the email preview was right there at the top.
Subject: Following up — Opportunity Still Available
Her jaw clenched.
The real estate agent.
Again.
She opened it.
Hi Rebecca,
Just circling back as requested. The interested parties are still eager to move forward and are prepared to make a competitive offer on the property. They’re hoping for a response by end of day.
Please let me know how you’d like to proceed.
Her fingers curled around the phone.
As requested.
She had never requested this.
Becca leaned back against the counter, eyes drifting to the front window of the shop. The street outside was quiet. Normal. People passing by with coffee cups and headphones, completely unaware that her entire livelihood felt like it was being quietly negotiated without her consent.
Competitive offer.
