“Summer,” Mrs. Dover sighs heavily from her chest. “It’s too late to convince me. I’ve already made my decision.”
What?
The sudden scrape of chair legs across the hard floor is followed by rapid footsteps. “Please, Mrs. Dover, I know I was late. The roads were wet and?—”
“The contract has already been drawn up.”
I don’t know Mrs. Dover, but I don’t like the short tone she’s using with Summer. My jaw clenches as I continue listening—promising myself that I’ll do what I promised and stay on the porch. Not that Summer needs me to handle this for her. My girl is brilliant. But I can’t help that it gets under my skin to hear anyone be unkind to her.
Doesn’t she know what she’s gone through today? Damn.She could be more understanding.
“Our families should get to experience Mountain Laurel Cove like we’ve had the blessing to do,” Summer says. “I have themon?—”
“I’ve heard enough.” The click of Mrs. Dover’s shoes crossing the room is easily deciphered from the softer soles of Summer’s. They’re louder with every step. “Come with me, Summer.”
The screen door flies open. I stand, dragging my hands down the front of my pants, meeting Mrs. Dover’s eyes for the first time. She looks me over as she comes outside, leaving the door to swing for Summer to catch.
Lady, you’re skating on thin ice with me.
“You’re my tenant?” she asks. Her hard stare would be intimidating if I didn’t face guys on the ice who want to end me every game. She thumbs over her shoulder. “You’re Summer’s gentleman?”
No final answer has been given to Summer. Mrs. Dover might have contracts drawn up, and she could have even taken a deposit. But even if those things are true, they aren’t final if they aren’t executed. As much as I want to rip into this woman—as much as my conscience will let me rip into an older woman, I need to think about what’s best for Summer.
A little charm never hurt anyone, and it’s definitely closed a few deals for me over the years. Maybe, just maybe, it can close one for my girl, too.
“Yes,” I say, reducing the gap between us. I shake her hand. “I’m Daniel Sutton. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Dover.”
She searches me with wary eyes, as if she hasn’t made up her mind about me.
“I refunded your rental fees this morning after hearing how extensive the damage at that cottage is,” Mrs. Dover says. “I want to personally apologize for the hassle it caused.”
The sinking of Summer’s shoulders behind Mrs. Dover pulls my gaze to her.She lost the bonus.It was the only reasonI didn’t bother requesting a refund. I knew it would roll down to Summer losing money when she needs it more than ever.
I glance at Mrs. Dover. “Things happen.” My gaze returns to Summer again, and a soft smile graces my lips. “It worked out in my favor.”
Emotion fills the deep breath Summer inhales, her dream slipping from her grip and hope draining from her eyes. She clings to my gaze as if it’s a life preserver and the only thing keeping her from breaking down.
I want to bring her to my arms, hold her, and whisper,“We’ll get through this. Together, we can get through anything.”Selfishly, that’s for me. She wouldn’t want that in front of her employer, though. I get it. I wouldn’t either.
Mrs. Dover lifts her chin. “I was just telling Summer the decision has been made and the contracts drawn.” It’s unclear why she’s telling me. I’m not involved in their business dealings. But the way she says it gives me an opening, and I’m taking it.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say carefully. “Is there anything either of us can do to change your mind?”
“No. I’m stubborn in my ways.” She walks to the door again and pulls it open. “Would either of you like a glass of lemonade before we get started?”
Summer’s eyebrows shoot to the pale-blue painted ceiling as she latches onto the door and pulls it wide open. “When you say get started?—”
“It means get your caboose in here and let’s finalize the deal.”
Glancing at me for reassurance, like she might be misinterpreting, Summer turns back to Mrs. Dover. “Are you serious?”
“I’d say as serious as a heart attack,” Mrs. Dover says. “But at my age, heart attacks aren’t something anyone should joke about.”
I bite my lip to hide a grin. My opinion of Mrs. Dover is already changing, but I’m squarely Team Summer until the ink is dry.
“But we haven’t even discussed money,” Summer stammers.
Mrs. Dover leaves us at the door, calling to us over her shoulder. “We don’t need to. You’re like family, better than most of mine.” She stops and looks back. “Look, Summer …” She glances at me and then back at Summer under a tight-lipped smile. “I listened to the proposal. I saw the dollar signs that came along with it as well. It’s not easy to pass up that kind of money. I joke that I’m an old woman, but I’m only seventy this year. I could live for another forty years in Mountain Laurel Cove.”
