Page 4 of Falling for the Bad Boy
CHAPTER 2
Trinity
“Landlord?” Oliver asked. “Does Wyatt know about this?”
Mr. Hopkins smiled as he shook his head. “Haven’t had a chance to tell him yet. Feel free to pass the word along to your boss.” Then he turned to me. “Should we head next door and finish our business?”
“Absolutely.” I reached for my glass, emptying it of the last half inch of gin. Then I slid a twenty out of my wallet. “Keep the change.”
A deep furrow bisected Oliver’s forehead. I’d enjoyed bantering with the bartender. His accent alone made me swoon on my barstool. But combined with broad shoulders, eyes the color of my favorite espresso, and a smile that made my stomach twist into knots like a tangled skein of yarn, I’d felt like an awkward tween facing her favorite heartthrob. Until Mr. Hopkins outed me as the new landlord.
Oliver probably wasn’t used to having the wool pulled over his eyes like that. Wool. I stifled a giggle. Went right along with the reference to sheep. As I followed Mr. Hopkins through the bar, I glanced around. Buying the building would put a massive strain on my limited finances, but at least I’d have rent from the bar coming in. That should help cover the monthly payment I’d have to make on the contract for deed I’d be signing tomorrow.
“Here you go.” Mr. Hopkins unlocked the entrance to the space next door then held the door for me to enter first.
I stepped into the converted warehouse, leaving the hustle and bustle of the last bit of evening traffic behind. There was something special about this space. I’d sensed it the first time I saw it. And it had only intensified over the past couple of weeks as I’d revisited, trying to decide if my idea was brilliant or by far the dumbest thing I’d ever done.
Now, on the eve of signing the paperwork that would make the building mine, complete assurance settled around me. Like a warm hug from my grandmother, I reveled in the safety and security of my decision. I was doing the right thing.
Mr. Hopkins interrupted my silent musings. “You said you wanted to measure something?”
“Yes.” Snapping to attention, I pulled the tape measure out of my hand-crocheted bag. “A friend has an antique bar he doesn’t want anymore. I thought it might make a good checkout counter but wanted to make sure it will fit. He has someone else interested, so he told me I had to let him know by the end of the day if I want it.”
“That would look good in here.” Mr. Hopkins ran his hand over the exposed brick wall. “This place has been home to so many things. Seen a lot of crazy times.”
I nodded as I stretched the tape measure. “I bet. You said this used to be a whiskey refinery?”
“Among other things. In the 1920s it was a fruit and vegetable wholesaler. That’s why you’ve got the big dock out back. It’s hard to let it go.” He thrust his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet over what appeared to be the original hardwood floor.
For a moment I sympathized with Mr. Hopkins. The only time I’d ever had to let something go it had almost killed me. But taking over the warehouse was part of my path to recovery. Even though making that kind of a commitment to anything scared the crap out of me, I needed to try.
“What was it most recently?” Satisfied the bar would be the right size, I let the tape measure snap back into place.
“Office space. I rented out the upper floors to a few different start-ups. They all went under. But I’m sure you’ll have better luck. It’s time for the wife and me to retire. She’s been bugging me to sell a few of my buildings and move to Costa Rica.” He let out a chuckle. “I sure hope they have good beer down there. I’ve gotten spoiled with having Tapped as a tenant.”
“Oh, they will. I went down there a few years ago. Try the Imperial. I’m sure you’ll like it.” For a moment I felt the sun on my face like I was right back on Tamarindo Beach. But those days were gone. It was time I put my nomadic lifestyle behind me.
His lips curled into a smile. “Thanks, I will. You get everything you need?”
“I’m good. Thanks again for letting me in. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. After tomorrow, the place will be yours. I think I was about your age when I invested in my first commercial property.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “It’s not for the faint of heart, this industry.”
I nodded, but inside my stomach did a loop-de-loop. What if I was making a mistake? I’d never committed to more than a six-month lease. I’d never even owned a car. Why was I suddenly ready to take a chance on a historic warehouse in downtown Newbridge? I rubbed my thumb along the band circling my right ring finger—my grandmother’s ring. Before she died, she’d made me promise I wouldn’t live life in the shadows of my brothers and sisters. Not only had she made me promise, she’d also taken steps to ensure I couldn’t whittle away the rest of my life. As much as I didn’t understand her actions, it meant I had to do something.
For Grandma. I took a deep breath as I shook Mr. Hopkins’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow at closing.”
“Not so fast.” A man stood on the sidewalk, just outside the doorway. “What the hell is going on?”
Mr. Hopkins smiled, not the slightest bit rattled at the man with the puffed-out chest. “Wyatt, I’m glad you’re here. I had an official notice prepared but it looks like I won’t need to drop that off now. As of tomorrow, Ms. Ryan will be your landlord.”
“But we had a deal.” Wyatt crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge. I resisted the urge to take a step back. I didn’t want him to think he intimidated me, even though he looked like he could split my head in two with his bare hands.
“No. You made me a lowball offer and I declined.” Mr. Hopkins matched his stance.
I waited, not sure if I should stay or go. Obviously, the men had history together. The last thing I wanted was to start off my new business on the wrong foot or with bad blood between me and my neighbor. Not just my neighbor, the guy with the giant scowl on his face was also my only tenant. My gaze bounced back and forth between a carefree Mr. Hopkins and the ball of fury blocking my exit.
I took a step toward Wyatt. He hadn’t moved. His gaze cut into me like a dull knife. “It’s nice to meet you.”
