For a split and regrettable second, her cheeks went hot under the sheer magnitude of his handsomeness.
“Ms. Burrows,” he said, standing by the front desk, voice cool. “I was told you wanted to see me.”
Show time.
“That’s right,” Max replied, gathering her things and rising from her seat. She walked toward him and cleared her throat. “Thank you for taking the time.”
He extended a hand, but her arms were full of cupcakes and paperwork, so she had to fumble for a few seconds before she was able to give it a brisk shake. She could have sworn she saw a flash of something cross his face – humor at the sight of her struggles? – but it was gone an instant later.
“This way,” Ian said, turning and heading back in the direction he’d come from. “My office is just back here.”
“Fantastic,” Max muttered.
The office was, mercifully, not far from the reception area, something her aching feet thanked her for as Ian held open a door for her and beckoned her inside. It was, again, a surprisingly small space, but that was where the modesty ended; the curtains on the window appeared to be made of silk, and the whole place was decked out with high-end, artisan-crafted furniture. Of particular note was an ornately-carved walnut chair against the back wall – an antique, maybe? Either way, it was clear Mom and Dad had made sure Junior got only the best in terms of digs. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes as she watched Ian take a seat behind his desk, gesturing at the open chair on the opposite side. Stiffly, she sat down.
“So, Ms. Burrows,” Ian said, “what can I do for you?” Again, there was that bemused lip twitch.
“First off, I want to apologize for my behavior the other night,” Max replied, hoping her tone was level. She’d known coming into this she’d have to eat some crow to get the results she was hoping for. If only it didn’t taste so bitter…
She cleared her throat and pressed on.
“It had been a long, difficult day, and the notice you left at the bookstore sort of pushed me over the edge. Now that I’ve had a chance to digest it all, I wanted to inquire about the possibility of finding another solution. One that doesn’t include me vacating the premises.”
Ian sighed and scrubbed a hand over his infernally square jaw. “I know this is difficult to hear, Ms. Burrows, and I apologize for that, but what you’re asking…it’s just not possible. I’ve spent months vetting the area for a space to fit my needs. It’s really the perfect location for the project I’m working on. Not just because of the neighborhood – the view, the foot traffic, and the accessibility are second-to-none.”
She swallowed the hard knot in her throat and met his unwavering gaze. “So where does that leave me?” Max asked, fully aware that her well-being was so not his problem, but unable to stop herself from asking the question. “And all the other business owners who were told that our leases would remain intact by the previous owners? The location and foot traffic…all those things you named, benefitted our businesses, too. How are we going to find the equivalent when you, yourself, said it’s second-to-none? You can’t just pull the rug out from under us like this without notice. Surely, that’s not even legal.”
“It is, actually,” Ian replied. “My lawyers have assured me that everything is in order and aboveboard. As for the previous owners, when they decided to sell, I’m sure they assumed any potential buyers would be looking for commercial real estate to rent and would be happy to have good tenants already installed. They were mistaken in that assumption.”
Max stared at him silently as he continued.
“I know you’re upset, but I promise you, as terrible as I might seem right now, I’m not enjoying this part of the process. None of this is personal. But you’d be much better focusing your energies on finding another suitable location for your business. You’re just not in a position to negotiate on this. I’m sorry.”
She shifted in her seat and forced herself to speak through numb lips. “Here,” she thrust the box of cupcakes out to him, along with the manila folder. “Those are all my numbers from the past year. You can see that sales are improving all the time. My customers are loyal and dedicated, and there aren’t any bookstores like mine in all of Bluebird Bay. If you let me stay, I could help generate more traffic for your business. This could be beneficial to both of us.”
Dear lord, was she begging?
She was totally begging, and the realization made her want to puke, but she needed him to change his mind. Now that Ty was gone, the bookstore was all she had left.
Ian gave a cursory glance at the folder, but didn’t open it. “What’s in the box?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Cupcakes,” Max replied, blinking at the quick shift in topic. “Um, they’re raspberry-vanilla. They’re from my mom’s bakery.”
“Thank you,” Ian said, prying open the box with one finger and peering in. “They look delicious,” he added. The manila folder remained on the table, untouched, and he slid it back to Max. “But you might want to take them back with you, because my answer is still no. I have no doubt your store is successful in its own right. Unfortunately, I require the entire strip mall. Taking your space out of the mix would ruin everything. Again, I’m sorry, but it’s just business.”
Max could feel herself getting angry again, but managed to keep her voice low and calm.
“I guess I’ll just have to talk to my own lawyers,” Note to self: Find lawyers, “and we’ll see what’s legal and what’s n--”
Ian held up a hand and cut her short. “Don’t waste your time or your money.” He pulled open a filing cabinet to his right and, after a few moments of rummaging, took out a piece of paper that was all-too-familiar to Max. “I’m going to assume you didn’t read this fully, considering your… state the other night. And considering you crumpled yours up and launched it at me.”
She had approached Mr. Bonomo to ask for a copy of his, but he’d left it at home, so she’d had to rely on her memory. Now, she was cursing herself for not waiting until she’d had it in hand to make her move.
Max cleared her throat. “Yes, well...’launch’ is a very divisive word. I more…tossed it in your general direction.”
One, dark brow shot high and she found herself squirming under the weight of his gaze.
“But tomato, tom-ah-to, go on,” she muttered.
He leaned forward and rotated the notice so they could both read it. Max caught a whiff of his cologne – musky, but not overpowering. As he began to go over the notice point by point, showing her each of the clauses as he explained them, a lock of dark hair dropped into his eyes, and Max was struck by the urge to reach out and brush it out of his face…but only for a moment.
Then she was asking herself what the hell her problem was, cheeks burning as she did so. This all seemed like a bad joke, and as Max watched him calmly explain why she had no legal recourse, she could feel herself getting angry.
Not the drunken anger of the other night, either.
This was pure, unadulterated rage.
And the urge to brush that lock of hair away was replaced with the desire to smash his face right into that box of raspberry-vanilla cupcakes. Instead, she just sat there rigidly as Ian Thackery cited laws and codes and rules, thereby dismantling any possible argument, along with her hopes and dreams. “So you can see,” he said, sitting back in his chair and looking at her, “it’s airtight – not even questionable. I gave you far more than the minimum legal amount of advance notice.”
“I…” Max couldn’t even seem to find the words to respond. “This isn’t…”
“Listen,” Ian said, meeting her eyes with his dark brown ones. There was a sense of kindness and concern in them that she couldn’t wrap her head around – it ran totally counter to everything that he had done, everything that he was doing. “You still have a couple months to figure something else out, okay? That’s why I put the notice up this far in advance. I’ve done all I can, but at the end of the day, I’m going to be repurpo
sing the buildings in that strip mall. That’s all there is to it.”
She looked up at Ian, and in spite of herself, felt her eyes starting to sting again. “This bookstore is my dream. You understand that, right?” She shook her head, not wanting him to see that she was close to tears. “I mean, I may never find a place like this again. This is all I have, Mr. Thackery.”
For a brief moment, his expression wavered slightly, a flicker of something like sympathy passing over his face, but then he began to shake his head slowly.
“Look, Ms. Burrows--”
“Nope. Got it. Sorry to have bothered you,” she shot back, pushing her chair away from his desk. All she wanted was to get out of there without having to hear yet one more reason he was upending her life. Why was it that she continued baring her soul, only to get stomped on for her efforts? She’d done it with Ty and he’d broken her heart. She’d done it with Robbie and he’d nearly broken some bones. This was the last time. She was done handing men the ammunition they needed to break her. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Thackery. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”
She stood up and backed away from the desk, but whatever hope she might have had for leaving this place with even a shred of dignity intact was dashed by the second step. One of her heels caught on the fancy area rug, sending her stumbling backward, her arms pinwheeling as she tried desperately to regain her balance. The next thing she knew, she was slamming into the ornate chair she’d admired earlier, a jolt of pain shooting up her knee as the wood tore into her stockings – and her leg.
She managed to catch herself, which she guessed was a slight improvement on the last time she’d been in this man’s presence, but that didn’t do much to appease her as she met his gaze.
“Geez, Max, are you okay?” he asked, shooting to his feet and gesturing to her leg, his face a mask of concern.
She followed his gaze and winced at the sight of blood running down her leg and onto the expensive-looking rug.
Perfect. Just frigging perfect.
7
Stephanie
“Ouch,” Max hissed, gripping the edge of the table as Stephanie dabbed at the cut on her leg with an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball.
“Sorry, honey,” murmured Steph, her tongue sticking out as she swabbed at the wound for another moment before moving back to her first aid kit and rummaging for a bandage. “You’re lucky you didn’t need stitches.”
“Yup,” Max agreed listlessly. “Lucky me.”
Steph turned back around, bandage in hand, and her heart broke a little for her niece. Max was sitting on an exam table back at the veterinary office, her injured leg dangling in front of her. In her slightly rumpled suit and sullen face, she reminded Stephanie more of a little girl with a skinned knee than the confident, together business owner she was. The look of abject despair on her face was enough to make Steph want to hug her, but she had a feeling Max was hanging on by a thread and the sudden display of affection might be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“Okay,” Stephanie admitted with a sympathetic smile as she returned to the examination table with a butterfly bandage in hand. “Maybe ‘lucky’ isn’t the right word for it.” Max groaned again, putting a hand to her face as Stephanie began to apply the bandage. “Sorry, sorry! I’m almost done, I promise.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not that,” Max replied, mumbling against her hand. “I can’t believe I managed to humiliate myself in front of him again. Whatever hope I had of him ever taking me seriously has gone out the window. Being the drunk girl who nearly gave herself a concussion is bad enough. Being the sober girl who practically hobbles herself in the midst of her grand exit is even worse. You know how people have a ‘thing’? Like Aunt Anna’s thing is taking photographs? And Mom’s thing is baking? As far as Ian Thackery knows, my ‘thing’ is falling. I’m basically a slapstick comedy routine purely for his amusement, at this point. Next time I see him, I should bring popcorn instead of cupcakes so he can eat it while he enjoys the show.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Steph told her as she tried not to laugh at her niece’s vivid imagery. She eyed her handiwork and then stood, looping her arm around Max’s shoulder. “It sounds like you were very professional with him for the entire rest of the meeting.”
Max snorted. “Yeah. Until I wiped out and left a trail of blood on his rug. Not exactly the note I wanted to leave on.” She shook her head, adding in a low voice, “Even though it was an ugly rug.”
“I’m so sorry, Max,” Steph said, and meant it. She hated seeing her niece so miserable. Between her business troubles and her recent breakup, it seemed like the world was just throwing everything it could at her. Steph had been there. And if she was any expert, what Max needed now more than ever was to have her family around to pick her up when she was feeling down. An idea coming to her, Stephanie put the first aid kit back and announced, “I’m just going to go check in with Todd on something real quick, all right? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure,” Max murmured, clearly too caught up in her own grief to ask any questions. “Go ahead.”
Steph slipped out of the exam room to find her son. Todd was at the front desk, standing across from an older woman who was clutching a cone-wearing poodle.
“I’ll just need you to sign here, all right?” he was saying, pushing the last bit of paperwork toward her. The woman scribbled down her signature and thanked him before scooping up her pet and scurrying off, cooing to the dog in a low voice.
Todd turned to face Steph with a smile.
“Hey, how’s it going in there?” he asked, one brow raised.
Boy, sometimes it took her breath away how much he looked like his father.
“Not great, to be honest,” replied Steph, clearing her throat. “You know Max and her boyfriend Tyler broke up, right? And now it looks like she might lose her bookstore to this business tycoon… She’s pretty stressed out. Listen,” she continued, crossing her arms, “would you be able to hold down the fort here for the afternoon? I think a girls’ outing might be in order – something to take her mind off of things for a while, you know?”
Todd smiled. “That’s really sweet of you, Mom.” He nodded. “And yeah, no problem. Nothing major going on here, and certainly nothing I can’t handle alone.”
“You really don’t mind?”
“Of course not,” he said. “That’s what family’s for, right?”
With the lobby empty for now, the two of them returned to the exam room, where Max was still slumped on the table. She looked up when the door opened.
“Hey, Todd,” she said, giving him a weak smile.
“What’s up there, cuz?” He crossed the room and gave his cousin a brief hug, enough to make the smile on her face turn genuine. “How’s your leg?” he asked when she let go, glancing down at her bandaged knee.
Max ran a hand through her caramel-colored waves. “Not bad, actually. Your mom knows her stuff.”
“She sure does,” Todd agreed, laughing.
As the cousins began to make light small talk, Steph pulled her phone out of her pocket and fired off a quick text to Anna and Cee-cee.
Max’s meeting didn’t go well. Want to get together for a girls’ day? I think she could use the cheering up.
As if reading her mind, Todd looked from Max to Steph and said, “I hear you guys are going out today or something.”
Max’s eyes widened. “Oh, uh, are we? I should probably get back to the bookstore, but it is a weekday, and Patrice is super-responsible…”
Steph spread her arms. “Only if you want to. Todd, here, has graciously volunteered to run the clinic this afternoon. I just texted your mom and Anna to see if they could slip away and meet us. What do you say?”
“I mean… yeah,” said Max, swinging her legs off the exam table and standing up. “If they are around, that is. I don’t want it to be a pity party, though.”
“If Anna comes, you can rest assured that won’t happen.”
Max chuck
led, and, as if on cue, Steph’s phone vibrated. She glanced down to see a text from Cee-cee.
I’m in. Thanks for being there for her, Steph.
This was immediately followed by a reply from Anna.
Did somebody say girls’ day??? Don’t threaten me with a good time.
“Looks like the others are in,” Steph told her. “So what do you say, Max? It could be fun.”
“You know,” Max said, nodding slowly, “that does sound fun. Although…” she glanced down at her torn pantyhose. “I probably look like a mess.”
“Who do you need to impress? Your mother and your aunts who love you just as you are?”
Max laughed, already looking less miserable. “Fair enough.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Steph, nodding definitively. “Get your purse, Max. Operation ‘Definitely Not a Pity Party’ has officially begun.”
A half hour later, the four of them were seated at a back table in the new luncheonette that had opened a couple months ago on the waterfront. The window gave them an unobstructed view of the ocean, the sunlight glancing off the water as the waves drifted in and out. Max had ultimately opted to stop by her place to change out of her heels and suit, and was looking decidedly better for wear in jeans and a blouse. The women were nursing iced teas and perusing the menu while they listened to Max recount what had happened during her meeting with Ian, complete with plenty of sighs, head shaking, and groans of humiliation.
“So you fell in front of him again?” asked Cee-cee, wincing a little.
Anna pulled a face. “Two for two. Yeah, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. That’s rough, kiddo.”
“I know, I know,” said Max, waving a hand at her. “It was so humiliating. Anyway, now you guys can understand my pain, at least.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” said Cee-cee, covering Max’s hand with her own.
“I’m not,” Anna said, and they all turned to look at her. She gestured with her glass, which was already nearly empty, adding, “What? I’m not sorry. I’m angry.”
Finding Forever Page 5