Page 17 of Building Romance
Me: Looking me up? Interesting.
Unknown: (angry face) Don’t flatter yourself. I always research who I may OR MAY NOT be doing business with. Or do you not know what research is?
Me: Not personally. I have people who do that for me.
Unknown: Shocking.
Me: See you at three.
Unknown: Yeah. See you.
I put the phone down and smile. I’m going to have so much fun fucking with Ms. Tanner. I wonder how many buttons of hers I can press? It’s almost like a challenge, a quest. If only I could find someone to date who could provide me with such witty banter. On the other hand, I’d probably want to kill them. Bring it on, Camryn. At least I know you’d never date a man like me and quid pro quo.
I have the foreman give me a final tour of the kitchen area, which is coming together after a month's delay. I’ve chosen the opening day for three months from now. It’ll allow us to get through this competition and then know the game plan for how we are going to proceed here on Hearts Lane.
A woman clears her throat from behind me and I turn to see Camryn. I look at my watch. It’s five till three.
“You’re early,” I state.
“Early is on time. On time is late,” she says as her eyes bore into me.
“Touché,” I retort. I motion to some stools over by a table where building plans are rolled up and stacked to one side.
Camryn unfurls a document and sets it on the table. “My counteroffer,” she says as she pushes it toward me.
“I don’t believe I said I would entertain a counteroffer, Ms. Tanner,” I say as I push the paper back toward her.
Her cheeks turn dark pink. I smirk. I have already flustered her. I’ll take the point.
“Well, I never said I was agreeing to your terms, Mr. McDowell. So, this is my counteroffer,” she says as she taps on the paper.
Curiosity gets the best of me and I snatch the document from her and read through it. She’s kept most things the same except she’s made it a fifty-one percent ownership that she retains in her store and we pay off her loan. Interesting. I look at the loan amount. It’s six figures, but peanuts for us.
“That’s a big loan,” I say with a raised eyebrow, deciding to play coy.
She rolls her eyes. “Last year, McDowell’s made five hundred million dollars in profit. You are projected to exceed that by nearly one hundred million this year. You own approximately four hundred stores with another twenty scheduled to open this year. I hardly think that sum of money would make anyone blink.” She motions around us. “Hell, you probably spent that in here during the first two weeks of renovations.”
She’s not far off. For reasons I can’t explain, I say, “Fine. Accepted. But I’m adding a clause that you need to get someone to run your store during the competition. I want your full focus on our team winning. We’ve never lost when we sponsor someone.”
She swallows and I wonder if my new stipulation will cause an issue.
“Fine,” she says after a beat.
I hold out my hand and she slowly raises hers to mine. I close my fingers around hers and we shake. I can’t help enjoying the feeling of her smaller hand in mine. Her skin is incredibly soft and smooth. I wonder for the briefest of moments if her skin is that smooth everywhere.
“I’ll have my team draw up the official contract and courier it over to you,” I state as I stand.
“Wonderful,” she says.
“And we start working on recipes in two days,” I add as she begins walking toward the door. Her step falters and I know she’s surprised by the word we.
She turns and looks up at me. “We?”
“Yes. We. As in, you and me,” I restate as I fight not to smirk.
“I-I didn’t realize you’d be so…involved,” she adds.
I shrug. “I like to see my investments in action. You understand, right?”
