Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
She’s clearly intent on draining every drop of life from my bones.
My eyes narrow. “I know what you’re doing. An extra fifty thousand dollars gives you more than enough to bring the inn up to speed. You won’t need to sell then.”
She smiles and nods.
“Yep. And who was it who said they’re okay with helping me work against his own best interests?”
Damn her and those green eyes that could turn Medusa into stone.
This isn’t working out the way I thought it would.
Though maybe by the end of summer with colder weather moving in and the stress of trying to score guests, she’ll finally see reason.
“I’ll go up twenty-five thousand. That’s it,” I say.
I wouldn’t be Miles Cromwell if I didn’t negotiate hard.
She rolls her eyes and turns for the door.
“I knew this was a waste of time.”
Fuck.
She’s got ovaries like cannonballs. I’ll give her that.
“Fifty thousand dollars a month, even,” I bark at her back. “But you turn around and start today.”
Her mouth drops as she faces me again.
“Babysitting weed dude?” She shrugs. “Good to know not all guys in your company are hot bloodsuckers, I guess.”
“You sound disappointed,” I point out.
Her round face reddens. “You are a leech. Becoming my boss doesn’t change that.”
“As long as I’m a hot one,” I remind her, bringing my face dangerously close to hers.
A small gasp slips out of her.
Then she glares at me with spinning green razors for eyes.
I chuckle and move past her, ushering her forward with a sweep of my hand. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the team.”
I take her into the library where the whole creative team waits.
“Everyone, meet our new addition, Miss Jennifer Landers. She comes to us with considerable experience in cutting-edge marketing from Winthrope International. Since she has a background in hospitality and tourism as well as digital marketing, she’ll be your best resource to ensure this gets done right. Nothing less than the usual Cromwell-Narada excellence. Now, it looks like the tour bus is here, so we should move.”
Smokey Dave stops to introduce himself on the way out, shaking her arm like a tree branch.
“My friends call me Jenn,” I hear her say.
Sarah is right behind him, and the other team members come strolling in one by one to greet her as they file out.
Jenn starts for the door.
“One more word, Jenn?” I call.
She stops and looks at me. “It’s Jennifer.”
“But you said—”
“My friends call me Jenn. Try listening.”
I force back a smile.
“Okay, Miss Landers, since I have a personal interest in keeping the mayor of the town I live in happy, you’ll be reporting directly to me on our progress. I hope that isn’t a problem. After all, we’re both well aware you have my number.”
She glares, smooths her face, and shrugs. “It’s you. Everything is a game with its own set of rules. I expected nothing less.”
It’s amazing how much she loathes me after a few brief conversations.
Usually, it takes a month without a single weekend off before people start adding my name to their list of curse words.
“I was hoping our new understanding meant turning a fresh page,” I say, exaggerating my frown.
Not that I care what she thinks about me.
I promise you, I don’t.
“You know how it goes with first impressions. They’re hard to forget. You’re not that hard to read. One brief meeting was all it took. You think you can buy people and places and the world is supposed to bend to your will. I just want to live and do right by Gram.”
“A noble cause,” I say, paying her a rare compliment.
“That’s what makes this so personal, you know.” She glances away for a second. “Selling you my grandmother’s land she bought with her first paycheck and home she built from the ground up with my grandpa would be like selling you my grandmother. But you don’t care. You only care if you get what you want.”
“For the record, I’d never try buying a human being,” I say, watching as she rolls her eyes right out of her head. “Although I respect your dedication, it’s going to feel different when you’re updating seventy-year-old plumbing and insulating room after room with an asbestos removal specialist. Also, I’ve always been transparent. I won’t wake up to a goddamned subdivision on my doorstep.”
“Why not? At least the developers had the decency to wait until she was buried to start circling like vultures.”
Developers? Shit.
Has she heard from them?
“Has anyone contacted you?” I ask coldly.
“No. You’re the only bonehead who’s tried to come after my house.”
I stop and stare.
This is the first time she’s referred to it as her house. This may be harder than I thought.
“But you’re not special; anyone else will get the same answer. Don’t lose sleep over it,” she tells me, batting her eyes.
“Miss Landers, I sleep like a baby. You’d do well to try it sometime. Now, let’s get going.”