Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
I blinked, taken aback. Tanner had never been my meal ticket. We’d been a couple all through high school and then for four years of college. “Excuse me?”
He shook his head. “Whatever. I don’t understand why my grandfather left half to you anyway.”
“He didn’t leave half to me. He left it to my son.”
“With you as trustee. Why not leave my brother in charge, so someone reasonable would be making the decisions?”
My face grew hot with anger. “He did leave someone reasonable in charge. Me. And as for why your grandfather didn’t put Tanner in charge, the answer is because he was a very smart man.”
“When was the last time you even spoke to my grandfather?”
“The week before he died. I spoke to Thatcher just about every Sunday, and so did Alex. Why don’t you ask your brother the last time he spoke to him?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you speak to my grandfather every Sunday?”
“Because he meant a lot to me, and I wanted my son to know him, too. He was an amazing man.”
Levi looked skeptical.
“You think I’m lying or something?”
“I don’t know what you’re up to. And at this point, I’m not sure I care. Just tell me what it’s going to take for you to agree to sell. Will an extra five percent do it? Ten? I know you have a number. If you didn’t care about money, my nephew wouldn’t be deprived of his father.”
I blinked a few times rapidly. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Save the insulted act and just let me know what you want, Presley.”
I was seething. “You know what I want?”
“What?”
“I want you to go screw yourself, Levi.”
***
I spent the majority of the afternoon stewing over my ex’s brother and his attitude. Maybe it had been naïve of me to think he’d want to preserve his grandfather’s legacy rather than sell this place to the highest bidder. But I damn well wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
As I went in search of my son, I thought about how big The Palm Inn was. We’d been here for several days already, and I’d barely run into the little old woman who inhabited one of the rooms. Fern was an old friend of Tanner’s grandfather. I suspected she might have been a little bit more than a friend to Thatcher from time to time. He’d let her pay a reasonable rent to live here. Aside from a quick greeting on my first day, the only sign of her thus far had been the size G bras she’d left hanging to dry in one of the bathrooms. Despite the fact that she’d been close to his grandfather, I assumed Levi would have no trouble kicking Fern out on her ass, if it meant selling the place for top dollar.
After much searching, I finally found Alex in the backyard—throwing a ball back and forth with his uncle. Levi might have been a dick, but it warmed my heart for a moment to see him playing ball with my son. This was always what was missing in Alex’s life—male camaraderie.
Tanner and Levi had grown up with a father who was constantly paying attention—almost too much attention—vested in their every move as he groomed them for careers in football. Up until Jim Miller’s death a few years back, he’d been heavily involved in both sons’ lives. That’s why it made little sense that Tanner was an absentee father. Considering the examples he’d had growing up—between Thatcher and Jim—you’d think he’d want to be closer to his son. But Tanner lost a little of his mind when his football hopes were shattered after an injury only a couple of games into his NFL career.
As much as my cheating ex had treated us poorly, I did feel for what he’d been through. Though that was no excuse for his behavior. While he’d remained close to his dad until his death, Tanner’s relationship with Levi had changed. They’d grown more distant, probably because Tanner was reduced to living football vicariously through his older brother; and that was hard.
I took a spot under a tree behind where Levi and Alex were playing and listened in on their conversation.
“You play a good game, but you’re not perfect,” my son told him.
Levi’s brow lifted. “You watch me play, eh?”
“Yeah. All the time. I like telling people you’re my uncle. It’s more fun when you’re winning, though.”
Levi bent his head back in laughter. “For me, too, buddy, believe me.” He passed the ball back to Alex. “So tell me. How can I do better?”
“A lot of people say you’re too focused on staring down your target. You’re not paying attention to the other players who can intercept you. That’s what happened during the last game in Philly.”
Levi nodded, catching his nephew’s return throw. “Yeah. You’re right about that. But you know, making mistakes is good sometimes, because they help you realize what you need to work on to get better.” He tossed the ball back to Alex. “Anything else I can fix?”