“Remember the guy in the suit I saw snooping around last month?”
“Yeah,” Maya answered absently, still trying to wrap her mind around what Rhonda said. She had chosen this LA location because of its high visibility and constant foot traffic from several office buildings and a nearby residential area. After two years, she was finally turning a decent profit and had just paid her parents back the money they had lent her to start her business. Now someone was trying to steal her dream. Rhonda’s voice pulled her back into the conversation.
“I knew he was up to no good—taking measurements and snapping pictures. Did you get a letter?”
She frowned. “No. I went through all the mail on my desk this morning and I didn’t see anything.”
“Maybe it’s on my desk.” Rhonda crossed the room and sat at the desk facing Maya’s. She riffled through a stack of envelopes and held up one. “This may be it. The return address says EJJ Developers.”
Maya came to stand behind Rhonda and read the letter. Dread settled in her belly. She didn’t care how much money they offered, she wasn’t selling.
“What are you going to do?” Rhonda asked.
“Nothing. I’m not selling.”
“It says here that he’ll meet with you at your convenience to discuss the offer, and there’s a phone number.”
“Fine. I’ll call and tell him not to waste his time.”
“You think it’s going to be that easy?”
Maya released a deep sigh. “No, but my answer won’t change. You know how long we searched for the perfect location. I’m not about to just hand over the keys.”
“I hear you, Maya, but this is big business. They make a living running over the little guy.”
“Well, they need to prepare for the fight of their lives, because this ‘little guy’ refuses to be run over.” She hadn’t gotten this far in her thirty years of life by rolling over and didn’t plan to start now.
Rhonda stood and embraced her. “Girl, we’ve been fighting together a long time. You know I’ve got your back.”
“I know.” Maya and Rhonda had been best friends since ninth grade and had been there for each other through thick and thin. “If we’re going to decorate, we need to get going. I have a lot to do this week and I have to prepare for Mr. Capshaw’s party on Saturday.”
“Saturday? He usually has his annual company holiday party the second week of December. Why is he having it a month early?”
“Apparently, he’s combining it with some business venture he’s celebrating. He’s having cocktails, appetizers and desserts.” She hesitated. “This year it’s at the Bonaventure.”
“Are you going to be okay delivering? I can do it for you.”
Maya nodded. “I can’t avoid going places just because they remind me of Stephen.”
“True, but you were planning to have your wedding reception there. Really, I can take care of it. I may not set the table as elegantly as you do, but I promise it’ll be nice,” Rhonda added wryly.
Maya chuckled. “Thanks. I can handle it.” She had to. Her business depended on it.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I just thought of something. Doesn’t the hotel have their own catering staff?”
“They do, and I asked about that. Mr. Capshaw said he’d taken care of it.”
“I guess it pays to have some clout.”
“It does and I’m glad. He’s one of my best customers. Let’s get started. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long week.”
Three months ago, Maya’s world was perfect. Now not only had her heart been broken, but she also stood to lose her business. She couldnotlet that happen.
Ian Jeffries sat alone at a corner table in the ballroom nursing a drink. He would rather be spending his Saturday evening at home watching college football, but his father asked if he and his brother, Chris, could represent their family’s real estate development company at David Capshaw’s holiday party. As the man was one of the investors in their latest development project, Ian couldn’t very well say no. He scanned the ballroom again in search of his brother, who, so far, hadn’t made an appearance. Ian planned to stay only an hour, but it was now going on two hours and he felt his frustration mounting. Lifting the glass, he took a small sip and set it on the table before pulling out his phone to check the game scores again.
“What’s up, little brother?”
Ian set the phone on the table. “About damn time you showed up.”