Quinn shook it briefly. “How do you know I’m Murphy?”
The guy’s gaze shifted to Quinn’s left shoulder. “The bar is closed and you’re here. I assumed you’re Murphy.”
Quinn’s cop instincts snapped to attention. The guy was lying. “You assumed right,” he said cautiously. “What can I do for you?”
“Do you have a moment to talk?” Gervano asked.
“Depends on what we’re going to talk about.”
“Business.”
Quinn nodded slowly. “Sure. Can I get you something to drink?”
Gervano glanced at the half-empty coffeepot perched next to the bottles of liquor. “Coffee would be good.”
After they sat down, Gervano pulled a business card out of a silver case and slid it across the table. “I represent YourMarket,” he said. “I understand this property is for sale.”
Quinn’s hand tightened around his coffee mug. Had Maddie called YourMarket? Was she negotiating with them at the same time she was considering his offer? “You’re talking to the wrong person. I don’t own the pub.”
“I know that. But you’re running it, and I understand you’ve made an offer on the property.”
“Who told you that?”
“That’s confidential information. So it’s true?”
Maddie wouldn’t sell the Harp to a company like YourMarket. Would she? Acid dripped into Quinn’s stomach. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Mr. Gervano.”
“We’ll see,” he said, smiling gently. “I understand the Harp and Halo is a popular bar here.”
“It’s a pub. And we do okay.”
“We’d like you to withdraw your bid. YourMarket doesn’t like competition when it’s negotiating for a piece of property. In return, if we’re successful in obtaining it, we’d help you relocate to another property.”
The guy didn’t know that Quinn was no competition for the chain. According to Maddie, she couldn’t afford to take his offer. But he’d see how far Gervano and YourMarket were willing to go. “Let me make sure I have this right. If I help you knock the price down, you’ll build me another pub? Ma—Ms. Johnson is screwed, but I’m still in business. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I wouldn’t put it so crudely.”
“Are you willing to put that in writing?”
Annoyance flashed in the other man’s eyes, quickly concealed. “I’ve found that agreements like this are best handled with a handshake.”
“I bet you have.” Quinn crossed his arms. “Why would you help me rebuild the Harp somewhere else? Last time I checked, YourMarket was in business to make money.”
The man smiled again. “We value the goodwill of our customers. We like to have a solid relationship with the people in the towns we serve. And the Harp and Halo is popular.”
“That’s not what I heard about your company, Gervano.” Quinn was on familiar ground now. Talking to this guy was just like interrogating a suspect. “Ruthless and hard-nosed is what I’ve heard. What you’re suggesting doesn’t compute.”
Gervano straightened the crease on his slacks. “We want to be an asset to the communities where we do business, and assisting displaced businesses is part of that plan.”
Quinn raised his eyebrows. “Instead of going to all this trouble, why don’t you just buy another piece of property? There’s lots of vacant land around Otter Tail.”
“Most communities in Door County have size restrictions on commercial buildings. This is the only area where one of our stores would be allowed.”
“So go farther out. Land would be cheaper.”
“Our customers want convenience. They want their stores close to home. And with gas prices where they are…” He shrugged. “No one wants to travel to shop.”
“I’m not going to withdraw my bid, and I intend to win. So no deal, Mr. Gervano.” Quinn had no idea how he was going to get enough money, but he wasn’t going to stop trying.
He wasn’t going to hurt Maddie to help Gervano out, either.
The salesman stood. “I didn’t expect a decision today. I’ll give you a chance to think it over, Mr. Murphy. If you withdraw your bid, it will make things easier for YourMarket. We appreciate it when people help us out. And we believe in showing our gratitude.”
“Sorry. I like the Harp just the way it is now. And just where it is.”
“Think carefully—my offer won’t be on the table forever. Things can change fast in the real estate business. Properties lose their value for a number of reasons.”
“What exactly are you saying, Gervano?” Was the bastard threatening him?
“Just that you should weigh your options.” He opened his briefcase, took out a pen and scribbled something on the business card he’d set on the table earlier. “My personal number. Call me anytime. We’d like to work with you.”
Quinn watched him walk out the door, stuck the card in his pocket, then tightened his hand into a fist. Properties can lose their value quickly. Was he imagining things, or was the YourMarket representative suggesting that something would happen to the Harp if Quinn didn’t withdraw his bid?
The cop sense that had stirred earlier flared back to life. Having been an officer left him cynical and suspicious. Maybe he’d misread Gervano. Maybe the guy was just trying to get a better deal for his company.
But Quinn would keep a close eye on the Harp.
“I UNDERSTAND, Hollis,” Maddie said as she paced her kitchen. “I know you need the money. I’m doing the best I can. It takes more than a few days to sell property.”
“Is there anyone who actually wants to buy a dive bar in the north woods?” Hollis’s voice was too high-pitched, a sure sign she was stressed.
“It’s not a dive,” Maddie answered automatically. “It’s a very nice place.” She cleared her throat. “I’m working there, actually. As a waitress.”
“Why? So you can try to sell it to a customer?”
Hollis needed her money back; Maddie got that. But her hand curled around the telephone. “You know what the real estate market is like,” she said, trying to keep calm. “And I’ve already gotten one bid.”
“Yeah? Then why don’t you take it?”
“It’s not enough. I could pay you, but I wouldn’t have enough for the contractors working on my properties. I’d be right back where I started.”
There was silence at the other end. Finally, Hollis sighed. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I know you’re in a bad spot. But if I don’t get that money back into my IRA next month, I’m going to have to pay a huge penalty. I can’t afford that.”
“I’ll get you the money, Hollis. Okay? I promise.”
“I feel like a real bitch, hounding you when you’re so strapped,” Hollis said quietly.
“Don’t. I got myself into this mess, and you were incredibly generous to help me out. It’s going to be okay.” Maddie forced herself to sound cheerful. “We’ll laugh about this next year.” She hoped.
“Thanks, Maddie. Keep me posted, okay?”
“You know I will.” Maddie closed her eyes as she hung up. Why had she let Hollis lend her money from her IRA?
Because she’d been stupid. And cocky. Sure that she’d succeed in the real estate market. Certain that her problems were only temporary, and easily solved.
She deserved to lose her shirt. But Hollis didn’t.
Maddie dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. It felt as if someone had thrown sand in her face.
Only a few hours of sleep the night before would do that to you. Not to mention being responsible for the financial ruin of your best friend.
Tossing her pen down on David’s beautiful cherry table, she paced through the kitchen. What if no one else wanted to buy the Harp except Quinn? What would she do?
She’d have to sell this house, as well. Sell all her memories of David and the summers she’d spent with him. She’d hated Otter Tail, but she’d loved David. She’d loved talking to him, helping him work on the house, listening to his stories about h
er father, who’d died when she was two.
Her mother hadn’t really wanted a child. The knowledge that there was one person who loved her without reservations, one place where someone liked having her around, had been her security blanket growing up. She didn’t want to sell this house.
She’d thought she could. Until she’d actually walked in the front door.
She’d do just about anything not to sell, but right now she was too tired to think straight. Even all the coffee she’d drunk that morning wasn’t helping. Intending to sort out her options, she dropped onto the sofa, but couldn’t keep her eyes open.
AN INSISTENT RINGING roused her from the depths of sleep. She reached out her hand to push the button on her alarm clock, and knocked something onto the floor.
Opening her eyes, she stared around the room, disoriented. This wasn’t her bedroom. There were chairs and a fireplace. Bookcases. A coffee table.
She was in David’s living room. Memories of the night before came flooding back. The phone was ringing. She picked it up off the floor and turned it on.
“Hello?” She hoped she sounded awake and together. Not like she’d just been sleeping on the couch.
“Is this Maddie Johnson?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Frank Gervano, Ms. Johnson. I represent YourMarket, and I understand you have a piece of property available in Otter Tail.”
YourMarket. They could undoubtedly pay more money than Quinn. Maddie’s heart began to pound. “I do,” she said, immediately alert. “Have you spoken to my Realtor? It’s Laura Taylor. I can give you her number.”
“I tried to call Ms. Taylor, but I couldn’t get hold of her. Since I’m only in town for the day, I’d like to meet with you. I’m hoping we can do business.”
“Any offers have to go through Laura.”
“I’m not making any offers today,” he assured her. “This would be very informal. I’d like to get a sense of your time frame, financing options, see if we can work together. That sort of thing.”
A tiny voice told her “that sort of thing” should be handled by Laura. But maybe she could gauge how interested YourMarket was. How likely they were to make an offer. Something she could tell Hollis, so her friend wouldn’t worry.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to meet you,” Maddie said.
“Excellent. I noticed a small restaurant on Main Street. The Cherry Tree. Perhaps we could meet there.”
“That’s fine.” She glanced at her watch. Noon. There would be a crowd. “I’m in the middle of something here, so how about in a couple of hours?”
There was a beat of silence. “Fine. I’ll see you then, Ms. Johnson.”
He didn’t like waiting.
Too bad. She wasn’t about to meet with a YourMarket representative during the lunch rush. In a couple of hours, the whole town would know about it.
Including Quinn.
She stood and shoved her hair behind her ears. So what? She didn’t care what the people here thought. She didn’t owe them anything. If the YourMarket people would pay her more than Quinn, the Harp was theirs.
She didn’t owe Quinn anything, either.
She headed upstairs to shower and change her clothes.
THERE WERE ONLY A FEW customers in the Cherry Tree when she walked in two hours later. Jen appeared to be the only waitress.
“You still here? That’s insane. You must have hardly slept last night.”
“I’m almost done. I’ll go home and sleep then. You having lunch?”
“Maybe a snack,” she said. Her stomach rumbled at the fragrance of cinnamon and apples coming from the kitchen. “What smells so good?”
“Bernie’s making pies. You want a slice?”
“Yes, thanks.” Fifteen years ago, she wouldn’t have ordered a piece of pie—she’d obsessed too much about her weight. Thank goodness she’d defeated that ogre. She nodded at the empty booth in the corner. “I’m, uh, meeting someone here. Okay if I take that booth?”
Jen’s eyes twinkled. “Quinn? You two were pretty cozy this morning.”
Jen had no idea how cozy they’d been; she was just fishing. “I’d locked myself out of the house, and he was getting me his extra key,” Maddie said easily. “That’s all.”
“Uh-huh.” She waved at the booth. “Go ahead. You probably need a cup of coffee, right?”
Amazing that she already knew how addicted Maddie was. “Yes, please.”
After Jen set the coffee down, she pulled out her order pad. “Anything else besides the pie?”
Maddie’s stomach was in a knot. “Just coffee.”
“Got it.” She shoved the order pad into her pocket. “Did I thank you for standing up for me with Quinn last night? I really appreciate it. It’s not exactly what I want to do, but eventually I want to open a restaurant. Cooking for Quinn is a good first step.”
“Did the two of you work something out? Are you going to keep on cooking?” Maddie asked.
“As much as I can. I don’t want to quit here until…” Jen played with the order pad in her pocket. “Until we know for sure the Harp is going to be there.”
“Yeah.” As Jen hurried away, Maddie took a drink of coffee. Her hand shook as she set it down. Only because she’d had too much caffeine already today.
The bell over the door chimed and a man in an expensive business suit walked in. This had to be him. No one else in Otter Tail wore a suit, as far as she could tell, let alone on a Saturday.
She waved at him, and he strolled over. He was slick. City. Sophisticated.
So why was she instantly on guard? She was city, too.
“Ms. Johnson?” He stood next to the booth with his hand out. “Frank Gervano.”
“Maddie,” she said. She could feel the handful of customers in the restaurant watching them, but she didn’t take her gaze off Gervano’s face. “Have a seat.”
CHAPTER TEN
“WHAT DID YOU WANT to talk about, Mr. Gervano?” Maddie asked.
“It’s Frank.” He watched her closely. “How committed are you to selling your property, Ms. Johnson?”
Careful. Guys like this can smell desperation. “I know nothing about managing a pub, and I don’t live in Otter Tail, so it would be foolish of me to keep the Harp. But I’m not in any hurry. I’ll wait for the right offer.”
“I see.” He settled back against the cracked vinyl of the booth. “Our company would like to enter the market in Door County. Your property interests us. But we’d have to do a number of studies.” He smiled. “Demographics. Traffic through town. That sort of thing.”
His smile looked calculated.
“Of course.”
Jen came over and slid a slice of apple pie onto the table in front of Maddie, then glanced at Gervano. “What can I get you?”
“A piece of that pie would be great,” he said. “And water. Bottled, please.”
“Sorry,” Jen said. “We only have tap water.”
“Really?” He frowned. “Then I guess I’ll have tap water.”
As she turned away, Jen rolled her eyes and shot Maddie a questioning look. Maddie took a sip of coffee.
“So, Frank. You’re not in any hurry to buy, and I’m not in any hurry to sell. What are we doing here?”
Gervano’s eyes flickered. “Getting acquainted, Maddie. I’ve found it’s good business to know who you’re dealing with.”
“I agree. Tell me about YourMarket. How many local people would you be hiring for your store?”
“A new store generally brings approximately one hundred jobs,” he said. Didn’t really answer her question.
Jen put a piece of the apple pie, still steaming, in front of him. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Thanks, Jen, but I think we’re set here,” Maddie said.
“I’ll leave this, then.” She set the check on the table and walked away. Slowly, Maddie noticed.
“About your hiring policies,” she pressed. “Do you hire from the community, or bring in your own
employees?”
He gave her a tight smile. “We can’t discriminate like that. It would be illegal to limit job applicants to one town only. But we do our best to hire locally.”
So the answer was no. They probably brought in all the managers, then hired whoever would work most cheaply for the rest of the jobs. “What kind of sales tax revenue can a town expect to get from one of your stores?”
“That depends on the store, and the town, of course.” Gervano took a bite of pie, then picked up his water glass. He studied it for a moment, as if making sure it was clean. “We have separate arrangements with each of our towns.”
So YourMarket would be asking Otter Tail for tax incentives. Based on what she’d heard, Mayor Crawford would be more than happy to oblige. “What about traffic? How much additional traffic does a store usually bring?”
“For someone who doesn’t live here, you seem quite concerned about the town,” Gervano said.
“I may not live here, but I have history in this town,” she said coolly. “My decision will affect a lot of people. I think they’re legitimate questions.”
“Absolutely.” Gervano smiled, a piece of pastry stuck between his front teeth. “This is why I wanted to meet you. To learn about your concerns. Make sure we can address them.”
“I appreciate that. About the traffic…?”
Gervano folded his hands on the table. “We pride ourselves in using sophisticated traffic pattern studies to place the entrances to our buildings.” He cleared his throat. “But our stores are generally quite busy.”
Translation: not our problem. Maddie’s stomach churned. “I’m sure Laura Taylor could get you any information you might need about the town,” she said.
“Have you gotten any other offers yet?”
“We have. Laura is considering them.”
He raised his eyebrows. “More than one?”
“It’s a valuable site. The Harp and Halo is a very successful business, and Otter Tail is becoming a tourist destination.” She held his gaze. “I assume that’s why YourMarket wants to locate here.”
“You know the real estate business, I see.”
An Unlikely Setup Page 8