by Jo McNally
His voice was cool. “Because people won’t sell?”
She raised her hands. “Exactly!”
“Before you dig any deeper, you need to know that I stopped by and had a chat with Louise DiAngelo before I came here. Turns out she’s had a so-called ‘verbal offer’ on her business but hasn’t seen an actual contract yet. Said she’s not the only one.” He took a menacing step forward. “What the hell is going on, Brittany? Why haven’t I seen any of these agreements? Why haven’t we processed purchase offers to get them on record before values jump? What are you playing at?”
She wanted to tell him to take a hike. Literally. A long hike off a short dock, as Nate liked to say. But she couldn’t blow this up yet. For one thing, she had a contract with Conrad dictating the terms of her employment. For another, she had to give Blake time to put his plan together.
She spread her hands in confession.
“You’ve got me, Conrad. I have put the brakes on a few deals while I tried to change your mind. But none of those deals are dead, just on hold. I’d like you to...”
“I don’t give a flying fu—” He took a deep breath. “I don’t care what you’d like me to do. Get those contracts signed this week or I’ll send Kent out to get them signed for you. And you’ll be unemployed. Got it?”
Conrad turned toward the door. Kent followed, giving her another sneer.
“Let’s face it,” Kent said. “You’re already unemployed when this is over. But if you don’t fix this, we’ll sue you, Doyle. You’ll lose your real-estate license. You’ll be finished in Tampa.” He moved so close that she had no choice but to lean away, hating to give him the satisfaction. His breath was rank against her skin. “You’ll be finished everywhere.”
And just like that, she’d had enough.
“You know what?” She stepped forward so that her chest bumped against his, and not in a flirtatious way. She glared down at him. “I’m already finished.” Her gaze moved to Conrad. “I’m done doing your dirty work, and I’m sure as hell not going to be pushed around by this little pissant nephew of yours.” She took a turn at sneering. “Good luck getting anywhere in Gallant Lake. You might pick up a shop or two, but you’ll never get enough. Not with me leading the fight against you.”
Conrad’s face grew red. “You can’t afford to quit and we both know it. You’re supporting your sister, remember?”
She went very still, her rage turning her into a warrior carved of granite. “Not that my sister is any of your business, but she graduates next year and has made it clear she does not want or need my assistance. I’m not kidding, Conrad. I’m done.”
Conrad yanked the front door open on his way out, barking orders over his shoulder as if she hadn’t just quit. Kent was trotting at his uncle’s heels. Probably trying to figure out how to literally get his head completely up his ass.
“Do the job I’m paying you for, Doyle,” Conrad said, “and get those contracts in my hands this week. Including one from your boyfriend. I’m building those condos, with or without you.”
The door slammed shut behind them so loudly that she jumped, even though she’d watched them slam it. Conrad’s arrival was a complication. It was probably going to move up her timeline. She still had no idea if she was going to have a job with Blake or not. Kent would be trying to roadblock her every move because he’d want to be the one to swoop in and save the deal for his uncle. That was why Conrad had tossed that with or without you threat. But those were all minor details compared to her only priority. Nate.
She was letting Joey in the back door when there was a sharp rap on her front door. Conrad probably wanted to yell a few more orders at her to show off in front of Kent. Rolling her eyes, she pulled it open.
“Yes, boss, I heard you. Bilk the old folks out of their properties so you can build those butt-ugly condo...” Her voice trailed off. Funny how impossible it was to speak when your lungs emptied and refused to work.
It wasn’t Conrad outside her door. It was Nate. And he knew. She could tell from the tightness in his jaw and the cold look in his eyes. His mouth—that beautiful mouth that had skimmed her body from head to toe last night—was pressed in a thin, angry line. She didn’t know how. But Nate knew.
“Oh...” She started to paint a smile on her face, but it felt wrong and she gave it up. She had no idea what he’d heard or from whom. “Uh...hi, Nate. I...wasn’t expecting you.”
“I’ll bet you weren’t.” He brushed past her, barely acknowledging Joey’s excited greeting. He stared out the window, back to her, and raked his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “Was any of it real, Britt?”
“I... What do you mean?” Without knowing how much he knew, she didn’t want to say something that would get her in even more trouble. He loved her. He’d said so. A lot. Since the boat ride, they’d been declaring their love for each other practically every ten minutes. Oh, God. He was asking if her love was real. Her heart cracked clean in two.
“You need to know that whatever else you’re thinking, I absolutely love you.”
He dropped his head, his voice so low she could barely hear him.
“I don’t think I want your love.”
“Don’t say that!” Her voice broke. “We can fix whatever’s happened.” She started to beg. “Whatever you’ve heard, whatever you think, there’s more to it. It’s not what it might sound like...”
Her usually gentle Nate spun on his heel so quickly that she jumped back. His face was red with rage, his voice rough and bitter.
“Really? Are you going to tell me you didn’t just say you were bilking old people out of their properties? Old people like my friends? Like Stella? And Louise? Bob and Sue? And maybe even Sol, who I didn’t even know you knew? Tell me how that isn’t what I think.”
“I’m not... That’s not what I...” His fury had her off balance, and she had to take a breath to slow her adrenaline. He knew more than she’d thought, but she had to stay calm. It hurt that he could believe that of her so quickly. But there was time to turn this around. She just needed to get Nate to listen. Then she needed to call Blake Randall before everything blew sky-high.
“Nate, look at me.” His eyes narrowed on her. She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t glare at me. Look at me. I’m the same woman you took out on your boat Saturday night and confessed your love to. I told you I love you, too.”
He scoffed. “Only after I said it. Maybe you just played me.”
“How can you say that?” She breathed the question more than said it, wincing from the pain of his accusation. “Look, I know you’re angry, but I’m not bilking anyone. I promise. And I didn’t lie to you. I love you, Nate. You know me. You know I’m telling you the truth.”
“Are you saying you’ve always told me the truth?”
She couldn’t help it. She hesitated.
“That’s what I thought.” He smirked, but there was no humor in it. If anything, it was even worse than his look of rage. He was dismissing her, heading for the door. She reached for him but he jerked away. And that was when she snapped. She’d expected anger. And hurt. But she’d never dreamed he’d just...drop her like trash. Like her mother’s family had when they were homeless and afraid. A swell of righteous anger rose in her.
“How dare you!” He turned when her voice rose. “You’re just tossing me aside? We fell in love. And just like that, you’re done with me. Without even listening.” She walked toward him. “I’m starting to wonder how real your love was, Nate. Because if someone told me something horrible about you, even if they had the receipts, I would be ready to fight them right then and there. Because I know you. The real you. Or at least, I thought I did.” She waved her finger in his face. “But you didn’t treat me any better just now than those bastards in Tampa when I was a kid. Like I was garbage.”
His face went slack, his anger suspended for the moment. “No. It�
�s not like that, Britt. I...”
“Well, it feels just like that. And that sucks.” She hit her chest with the palm of her hand. Her words tumbled out. “I screwed up. Well, I didn’t screw up. I came here to do my job, which I’m good at. But then I fell in love with this place. And with you. I screwed up by not telling you the whole truth, but I was under contract. I was trying to fix everything before I told you. For us.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “But if you can turn on me this fast... I’m wondering why I even bothered.”
“Brittany...”
She waved him off. “You should leave.”
“I was leaving. Look, I don’t want you feeling like I’m discarding you, but you lied to me. Under contract or not, that’s a deal-breaker when you’re supposed to be in love with me. I knew you were holding something back, but I had no idea that something involved my town. My business. My friends.”
“They’re my friends, too!” she shouted. But would that be true once the news got out?
He shook his head, letting out a long, slow sigh.
“It’s not like I’m just listening to random gossip here. I heard your boss when he left. He told you to get the sales contracts so he can build condos. And you’re the one who said you were bilking old people.”
That explained the extra edge to his anger. He’d been outside when Conrad and Kent left. That had to have looked and sounded pretty damn bad. But they were way beyond her trying to explain that at this point. They’d both said things that would be hard to take back.
She gestured toward the door, suddenly exhausted and so very sad.
“I think you and I need to just...stop talking. Seriously. Just go.”
His eyes closed.
“I don’t want us to...”
“Go.”
They stared at each other, standing a good four or five feet apart. It may as well have been the Grand Canyon.
He turned away and opened the door. “You need to know that I won’t let this happen. Whatever your employer is up to in Gallant Lake, I’ll stop it. I’ll stop you.”
It was almost funny. He was vowing to stop her, even though she’d said she was fixing things. She didn’t bother pointing out that contradiction. They’d blown past the point of having a real conversation about things. Her chin rose, and her old defenses rose up.
“I told you they call me The Barracuda, remember? You won’t stop me.”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his body rigid. But he didn’t reply.
He just walked away.
Chapter Fifteen
“I don’t know, man. That doesn’t sound like something Brittany would do. I mean, she’s been in my home. Had dinner with Mack and me.” Dan Adams folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the door frame of Nate’s office. He was in uniform, although he’d tossed his hat on the desk. “She let my ten-year-old daughter teach her how to do some dance that’s hot on TikTok right now. And haven’t you...like...slept with the woman?” Dan tipped his head to the side. “And you’re buying into Louise’s story?”
Nate stared up at the ceiling, chewing his lip and trying to ignore the growing voice in his head saying he was making a huge mistake.
“How can I not believe it, Dan? Four businesses—five counting me—received purchase offers yesterday. Hand-delivered by that Kent asshole.”
He scowled at the memory of the smug little blond bastard in the custom-cut suit strolling in yesterday like he already owned the freaking place. Apparently, Brittany was too ashamed to present him with her boss’s offer herself.
“Exactly,” Dan said. “The offer came from that guy, not Brittany.”
“The guy she works for. Maybe she just didn’t have the guts to look me in the eye.”
Dan sighed. “Yeah? So why didn’t she have the guts to face Stella? Or Louise? She didn’t deliver any of the offers, Nate. Not a one. Kent Quest—which is a comic book name if I ever heard one—handed out all the offers yesterday afternoon. I thought you were falling for Brittany, man. Why are you so eager to throw her under the bus?”
Nate stood and started pacing the small office. “I was falling for her. I did fall for her. It felt so damn real. But what if she was just using me? What if it was a sham?”
“What if it wasn’t?”
Nate stopped and turned. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“No!” Dan threw up his hands. “That’s my point. I have more faith in your woman than you do, and that’s fu...” Dan glanced back at Hank, knowing the bird would repeat that word for an hour if he heard it. “That’s screwed up. And now you’re involved in this community meeting tonight. To what end?”
The meeting had actually been Louise’s idea, and the mayor had agreed yesterday to put out a notice for an emergency meeting of the town council, open to the public. Stella had asked Nate to speak. He’d be standing in front of the local population, arguing against Brittany and her employer, Quest Properties.
That news had come out earlier in the week, when someone recognized Conrad Quest. Nate had looked him up online and had read how the company made their profits from buying up chunks of land and building concrete condos and shopping plazas in small towns on the outskirts of growing cities. Quest’s nephew, Kent, had agreed to speak at the meeting to address people’s “concerns.”
He glanced at Dan, then lowered his eyes, not feeling all that proud of himself.
“I told her I’d stop this, and I meant it. We can change the zoning. We can call for environmental impact studies. We can stop Brittany and her boss from destroying our town.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dan asked. “Why are you taking up pitchforks against your own girlfriend?”
“Don’t call her that. Remember, I’ve been lied to before.”
“Are you talking about your dad? Come on, Nate. This is not the same thing as your dad almost gambling away the store.”
“My father told me everything was going to be fine. Told me not to worry. That it wasn’t what it looked like. That he’d fix it.” Nate shook his head. “All the same things Brittany told me on Monday. Word for word. I believed Dad and we nearly lost this place. I’m still digging out of the debt from that loan I had to take.” He gestured around at the walls and the lake outside the window. “I barely managed to save this. And now I find the woman I love might be trying to take it away again?”
“Might be.” Dan, ever the investigator, picked up on every detail. “You don’t know. You’re not sure. Have you asked her if that’s what she’s doing?”
“She denied it, but she’d do that anyway, right?”
“Wow.” Dan shook his head slowly back and forth. “Mack was right—you’re just tossing Britt to the curb, aren’t you?”
The phrasing struck Nate like a sledgehammer. She’d accused him of discarding her like trash. “Has Mack been talking to Brittany? Have you?”
“I think the bigger question is...have you?”
“Hard to do after she threw me out of her place.”
“Three days ago. You drive by there every time you go home.” Dan reached for his hat. “Let me ask you something. Is this pile of bricks really more important than your feelings for Brittany?”
He didn’t understand the question. “This business has been in my family for...”
“Five generations. Yeah, I know. Everyone in town knows. Is that more important than Brittany Doyle?” Dan squared his hat on his head and ran his fingers along the brim. “In other words, are you okay with losing her and keeping this?”
He thought of coming into the store day after day for the rest of his life without seeing Brittany up on the ladder stocking nails, or teaching Hank new insults, or sitting on his desk giving Nate that come-do-me look. Dan was still talking.
“Just saying that, once upon a time, I thought my relationship with Mack interfered with my job and that she
was bad for me. And then I lost her. And almost really lost her when she stumbled onto that drug warehouse out at Gilford’s Ridge. That was when I realized my job—my life—was meaningless without Mackenzie Wallace in it.” Dan shrugged. “Instead of focusing on how butt-hurt you are that Brittany didn’t tell you everything, maybe focus on what matters. Is your life better with her or without her?”
Dan turned and left without waiting for an answer, having a brief whistling competition with Hank on his way to the door. Nate stood at the window for close to an hour, hands in his pockets, replaying his entire relationship with Brittany in his head. The laughs. The debates. The sex. The barns explored. The sunsets shared. The love.
Something started to break loose inside him. Dan said he was focusing on being hurt. Hurt. Was that what triggered his angry reaction to what was happening? Were his feelings wrapped up in memories of his father, instead of the reality of what he and Brittany had together? She’d said he was tossing her aside like trash, and he thought of the stories she’d told of her past. Living on the streets. Rummaging for food, and vowing to protect her little sister no matter what. That was why she worked so hard, clawing for every penny she could get to protect Ellie and make sure neither of them would want for anything.
Brittany was tough as nails. But she was also more fragile than anyone knew. She told him she’d have fought anyone who had the nerve to accuse him of anything suspicious. But he’d readily believed the worst about her. Even though he had his doubts that she could have done it, he’d ignored those doubts and jumped all over her. He thought about how that would make that little homeless girl feel—to be accused of something she didn’t do. He dropped his head, his knees almost buckling under the weight of what he’d done. He gripped the windowsill to steady himself.