Page 111 of On One Condition

“Yes, we have.” She pauses. “Of course, it’s contingent on you completing the improvements you outlined in your presentation. An asphalt drive and parking lot. Chairs and tables for both a ceremony and reception. A kitchen to house caterers.”

“Of course. Yes.” I’m stunned. I’m thrilled. I’m terrified. Holy. Shit. “I don’t even know what to say right now.”

“I have a feeling it will be a hugely successful option we offer to our guests. Nothing says wealthy clientele like ones who pay for luxury and then want a little piece of grandiose country thrown in. The Fields will be perfect for that.”

“I’m thinking that’s a compliment?”

She laughs. “Yes, that’s a compliment. It means it’s luxurious but at the same time classic Cedar Falls.”

“So, what do I do now?”

“Legal will be drawing up contracts in the coming weeks, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Okay. Yes. Thank you for taking a chance on me. I—”

“I look forward to visiting it myself. I’m sure it will—Oh, shoot. My apologies. I have to cut this short. I have to take this call. We’ll talk soon.”

And before I can ask the question—does Ledger know about it?—she hangs up.

I want to do a mini-jig on the sidewalk but settle with an ear-to-ear grin.

Then, of course, reality hits. The loan. My loan. I still haven’t gotten an approval yet.

I tap my cell phone against my chin as I accept the high but fear for the low.

I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

I’m not going to let anything ruin my mood today.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Ledger

Mayor Grossman acts like an anointed king as he walks through City Hall shaking hands and laughing like a pompous ass. It’s a sight, that’s for sure. One I can’t help notice as I scan the auditorium. Where are you, Ash?

She said she’d be here. Why don’t I see her?

Tootie’s here though. I catch her eye from across the room, and she waves at me. It’s when I look back to where Mayor Grossman is still on his look at me parade that I get a closer look at the man whose back he’s patting and shoulder he’s squeezing. There’s something about him that I can’t quite place.

“Hey, who’s that?” I ask the city recorder who happens to be walking next to me.

“That’s the mayor’s son,” she says as she walks past to take her place at her desk. “Jason Grossman.”

Jason.

Tootie had said that name too.

While the name hits my ears and falls flat, there is something about the man that I can’t quite place. Is he a contractor for the resort? One of the protestors who heckled me last week? Did I see him at Hank’s that first night?

Just as Mayor Grossman takes his seat on the dais and pounds his gavel to get the meeting started, it hits me.

No fucking way.

I take another look at Jason. Sure, he’s aged some, but I never forgot that smug, condescending mouth of his. Or the nose with a slight crook in it.

Jason. He’s the kid whose nose I broke sixteen years ago. The prick who talked shit about and disrespected Asher.

How didn’t I see it sooner? The face structure, the same mouth shape, the beady eyes. Jason, the kid I punched years ago for disrespecting Asher, is Mayor Grossman’s son.