She tilts her head, studying me with narrowed eyes. “You know, Cole Garrison, you occasionally have moments of brilliance.”
“Thank you,” I say hesitantly, “I think.”
She offers me a bright smile. “You’re welcome.” Then she steps to the side and waves me forward. “Get to it. I’ve got you covered.”
I draw in a breath and walk over to Deacon, struggling to decide how to play this. He’s a dipshit, but there’s probably half a brain in there somewhere. I don’t want to tip him off by acting excited about a shit offer. I decide to go for resigned.
“Okay,” I say, heaving a sigh. I set the notepad on the counter and click my pen. “Let me get the facts straight. You offered seven hundred a week ago, but now you’re offering five hundred.”
“Which was my original offer,” he says with a cheesy smile. “I was rash the last time I was in here. Overly generous.”
I nod my head with a look that suggests I’m processing his information. Maybe the money from the Labelles’ collection of terrifying dolls didn’t go as far as they’d hoped. Knowing them, they blew it on crappy outfits and questionable luxuries. “And if I sell it to you for five hundred thousand, how soon could you get me the money?”
He picks up the check and waves it. “Well, here’s two hundred grand right here that you can deposit into your account at the Highland Hills Bank.”
It might be a coincidence that he guessed correctly that I have an account at Highland Hills Bank, but somehow I don’t think so. I doubt my in-laws would know, so does this mean they had Horacio tail me before he started following my daughter?
I sigh again and scratch the back of my neck. “Well, I’m not sure I’m ready to sign on the dotted line just yet. I’m not in a huge hurry, you know. I was thinking about selling next spring or summer. And I’d get an appraisal first, of course. I mean, I think I’m gonna need a hunk of money to put down on a retainer.” I paused, making a face that suggested I’d said too much. “Although, you know, I’m not sure I’m gonna need the money that soon.”
“Is that so?” he asks with a far-off look in his eyes, then he stands up straighter. “I have to tell you, the market’s not done fluctuating. The next time I get back to you, the offer might be lower.”
I tap my chin and nod. “I’m going to trust the market will hold out unless something big comes along that forces me to sell sooner.” I sure hope I’m not screwing myself. Although Holly and I discussed all of this in broad strokes, I didn’t think it through like I should have. If I fuck up badly enough, I may unintentionally prompt the Labelles to up the ante, but it’s possible that Deacon will let something spill. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to help prove they’re resorting to unethical means to get my daughter. Horacio Duke the Second might be able to get the goods for us another way—stranger things have happened, and he is terrified of Holly—but am I willing to bet my daughter on him?
“Don’t wait too long,” he says in hisaw shuckstone. “The market’s in decline, so I suspect the offer will be lower next time. Maybe significantly.”
“I guess I’ll take my chances,” I say amicably. “But if you don’t mind me saying, I’d think you’d prefer to wait until the market declines.” I hold his gaze. “Seems like it would be in your favor.”
“What can I say?” he says, “I just want to be fair to you.”
“Say, what if I sell to you now…” I say as though I’m working this out in my head. “…and you let me keep running the place until next summer? I mean, I’d really hate to disrupt Jane in the middle of the school year. That way, I’d get the higher price, which would ease your conscience, and you’d own it. I’d need that in the contract. Of course.”
He makes a face and tilts his head. “Um…I’m not sure that’s going to work. I’d need the place by the middle of December.”
The middle of December? That’sunbelievablyquick. What does this guy plan to do with my brewery? Make a Christmas present of it to his father? Is that what rich people give each other? Businesses wrapped up in pretty bows?
Still, I can’t understand why a beast like Bev Corp. would be this interested in my small-town brewery with limited distribution.
“What’s the rush?” I ask innocently.
“I…uh…never you mind about that. I have my reasons, but the thing youdoneed to know is that once we close—and I’m ready to close fast—you’ll have to vacate the premises immediately.”
I struggled to rein in my irritation. “Youdoknow my daughter and I live here, right?”
“With all that cash, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a new place.”
“And what about my employees?”
He waves his hand dismissively. “You don’t need to worry about them.”
“So you plan to keep them on?”
“Of course,” he says smoothly. “I need experienced people to run the place.”
“And you have no problem writing that into the contract?”
He hesitates, then says, “Yeah, I mean, if they don’t work out, I’ll need to get rid of them at some point, but sure, I’m willing to keep them all around for at least sixty days, and if any of them don’t adjust to the transition, I’ll reevaluate.”
“I still need to think about it,” I say. “I’d just really like to keep my daughter here until next May.”
