Page 27 of Cold as Stone
My office—which is really just a glorified closet with a desk—isn’t much, but it’s private. I settle into my chair, gesturing for him to take the one across from me.
“What can I do for Summit Development, Mr. Crane?”
He sets his water down carefully, straightening his already straight tie. “I’ll be direct, Ms. Sullivan. My company is investing heavily in Stoneheart’s future. We’ve acquired several properties in this area, with plans for revitalization that will benefit the entire community.”
“How nice for you,” I say, keeping my tone pleasant.
If he catches my sarcasm, he doesn’t show it. “As part of our development strategy, we’re particularly interested in established businesses with potential for growth.” He slides a folder across my desk. “We’d like to make you an offer.”
I don’t touch the folder. “I’m not selling.”
“You haven’t even looked at the offer.”
“Don’t need to.”
His smile tightens. “Ms. Sullivan, I understand you only recently acquired this establishment. Our offer would represent a significant profit on your investment. Quite possibly the best return you’ll ever see.”
Curiosity gets the better of me. I flip open the folder, and my eyebrows shoot up despite my best efforts. The number is obscene. Nearly triple what I’ve agreed to pay Devil if I still want the bar at the end of the next six months.
“That’s… generous,” I admit.
“We value what you’ve built here,” he says smoothly. “The improvements you’ve made in such a short time are impressive. We see potential in this location that goes beyond its current… limitations.”
My skin crawls as I realize he’s had people in the bar since I’ve made the upgrades, checking it all out.
“Limitations?”
“Well.” He gestures vaguely around us. “The building is old. The neighborhood is changing. Our development plans would revitalize the entire parcel of land with a focus on bringing in higher-end clientele, more foot traffic, and better revenue opportunities.”
I close the folder, sliding it back across the desk. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Crane, but I’m not interested. Devil’s isn’t just a building or a business to me. It’s part of this community.”
His pleasant expression doesn’t waver, but something shifts in his eyes. “Community is precisely what we’re trying to build, Ms. Sullivan. A better, safer, more prosperous Stoneheart for everyone.”
“Everyone who can afford it,” I counter.
“Progress always comes with change,” he says smoothly. “Some adapt, some don’t. But I’d encourage you to think about your future here. The town council is currently reviewing zoning regulations for this district.”
My blood chills. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely. In fact, there’s a proposal that would restrict liquor licenses in mixed-use developments, which is what this block is slated to become. Businesses that are already established might be grandfathered in, of course… but the change could trigger a review.”
And there it is. The threat, thinly veiled but unmistakable.
“Are you suggesting that if I don’t sell to you now, I might find myself unable to operate later?”
He holds up his hands. “Not at all. I’m simply sharing information that might be relevant to your business decisions. We’d hate to see you invest more in a property that might face… regulatory challenges.”
I stand, making it clear our meeting is over. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Crane. But for now, Devil’s isn’t for sale.”
“Of course.” He stands as well, straightening his jacket. “The offer remains open. Here’s my card, should you reconsider.”
I take it just to get him moving. He’s already overstayed his welcome.
“One more thing,” he says, pausing at the office door. “I understand you’ve been hosting some… meetings here. With the local motorcycle club.”
My face gives nothing away. “Devil’s has always been open to the community.”
“Of course.” His smile is thin. “Just be careful about the company you keep, Ms. Sullivan. Some associations can complicate things unnecessarily.”
