Page 5 of A Good Egg

I maintained my professional demeanor. "I understand your reluctance, Mrs. O'Malley. Family properties carry significant emotional weight. But I'd like to discuss the potential opportunities our offer presents. May I come in?"

"No, you may not." She crossed her arms, blocking the doorway with surprising authority for someone barely five feet tall. "There's nothing to discuss. This land has been in the O'Malley family for four generations, and it's going to stay that way."

"The bank might have other ideas," I said gently, watching her reaction. A flicker of worry crossed her face before she masked it. "I've seen the foreclosure filing, Mrs. O'Malley. I know you're behind on payments."

Her chin lifted defiantly. "That's my business, not yours."

"It could be our mutual business. Sheffield & Associates is prepared to make a very generous offer—well above market value. You could pay off your debts, secure your retirement, and still have plenty left over."

"Money isn't everything, Mr. Westbrook."

"It's enough to solve your immediate problems," I countered. "At least let me show you what we're proposing. Our vision for Cape Horizon Estates includes preserving much of the natural beauty of this property while creating upscale vacation homes that would bring jobs and revenue to the area."

She shook her head. "I'm not interested in your fancy drawings or your sales pitch. This land isn't just dirt and trees to me. It's where I raised my children and granddaughter, who, in fact, has just recently returned home to Starlight Bay.

The mention of a granddaughter caught my attention. The property records had only shown Nora O'Malley as the owner.

"I understand," I said, softening my approach. "And I respect your attachment to this place. But sometimes practical considerations must take precedence over sentiment. The bank won't care about your memories when they foreclose."

Her eyes flashed. "Are you threatening me, young man?"

"Not at all. I'm simply pointing out the reality of your situation. Wouldn't you rather control the outcome than have it forced upon you?"

A sudden movement from the direction of the barn caught my eye—someone ducking out of sight, and I tried to peer around Mrs. O'Malley's slight frame.

She stepped forward, however, forcing me to back up a step. "Now, I think we're done here. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave my property."

I handed her my business card. "Think about our offer, Mrs. O'Malley. I'll be in town for the next week. When you're ready to talk, you can reach me at this number."

"Don't hold your breath," she replied, but she took the card.

As I turned to go, I caught a glimpse of movement again—this time, a flash of vibrant red hair in the barn window. Someone was watching our exchange, someone with hair the color of autumn leaves. The mystery observer disappeared before I could get a better look.

"Your granddaughter?" I asked casually, nodding toward the barn.

Mrs. O'Malley's expression closed completely. "Goodbye, Mr. Westbrook. Please don't come back unless invited."

She shut the door firmly, leaving me standing on the porch. I lingered a moment, staring at the barn, but whoever had been watching didn't reappear.

I walked back to my car, mentally cataloging what I'd learned. The financial pressure was real—I'd seen it in the worry lines on Mrs. O'Malley's face. But her resistance was stronger than I'd anticipated. And now there was the mystery of the red-haired observer to consider. A granddaughter, apparently. Someone who might have influence over the old woman's decisions.

As I drove back toward town, I called my assistant in New York.

"Gabby, I need you to dig deeper on the O'Malley family in Starlight Bay. Specifically, I need information on Nora O'Malley's granddaughter—name, age, occupation, current residence, anything you can find."

"On it," Gabby replied efficiently. "Anything else?"

"See if you can get me the name of the loan officer handling their foreclosure case. And book me a room at the Starlight Inn in Starlight Bay for the next week."

"A week in a small-town inn?" I could hear the surprise in her voice. "You usually can't stand more than two nights away from the city."

"This deal is going to take some finesse," I admitted, recalling Mrs. O'Malley's steely determination. "And Victor wants it wrapped up by Easter."

After ending the call, I found myself thinking about that flash of red hair in the barn window. Something told me that she might be the key to unlocking this deal. Perhaps I could appeal to her more practical nature, assuming she had more common sense than her grandmother.

The Easter decorations in the town square caught my eye again as I passed. New birth, beginnings—all the sentiments the holiday was supposed to represent. Ironic, since I was here to end something, not begin it. To transform an old, dying farm into something modern and profitable.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something unexpected was hatching in Starlight Bay. I'd built my career on reading situations and people, on sensing opportunities and threats before they fully materialized. And something about this quaint town and its stubborn farmer was different from my usual acquisitions. It made me itch. With any luck, I’d be able to get this deal done and return to New York ahead of schedule.

---