Why Not Tonight (Happily Inc. #3)(92)

*

DREW LOVATO TOOK a couple of days to consider his options. Calling a special meeting of the commercial loan committee was one, only he’d checked the records of the last meeting and Silver’s loan application had been shot down 7–2. He doubted any impassioned plea on his part would make a difference. Libby had made her case first, and apparently it had been a good one. A single swing vote he could probably manage, but finding three people willing to vote yes instead of no seemed unlikely.

He didn’t know what his aunt had against Silver, but there was something, he thought grimly. Regardless, Silver still needed the money to expand her business.

Soon, he promised himself. When his grandfather retired and Drew took over the bank, policies would change. He wanted to support local businesses and help the community grow. That meant loaning money to entrepreneurs like Silver.

His second thought had been to set up a fake loan through the bank—using his own money. However, violating federal banking statutes was never a good idea. He doubted he would enjoy prison.

He could simply give her what she needed to buy the trailers. He smiled as he imagined how that conversation would go. Would she tear him a new one before or after she backed her truck over him? Silver was many things—beautiful, smart, determined. She was also proud as hell, highly verbal and occasionally impulsive. The combination made life with her interesting, to say the least, and sometimes it came with an unexpected thrown object.

Alternatively, he could offer to loan her the money, using the same terms as the banks. Whatever risk the loan committee might have worried about wouldn’t exist for him. He knew she would sell a kidney before defaulting on him of all people. Which meant she would probably say no. Or several versions of no, some of which would question his masculinity, his humanity and his relationship with everyone’s mother.

The last option, and to be honest, the one he liked the best, was for him to buy into her business as a minority partner. He would supply cash and together they would grow the business.

There were several advantages on his end. While he’d thought he was over Silver, in the past few months, he’d found himself thinking about her more than was healthy. There was something about her—some combination of determination and sass—that he found difficult to ignore.

He knew he would enjoy spending time with her and even if close proximity didn’t lead to them rekindling their attraction, he liked the idea of adding value to her small company. He was a banker by birth and by trade—his world was a happier place when those who depended on him did well. Improving the community was part of his job description, so he would start with Silver. The question was how to convince her?

After discarding the idea of asking her friends to help with an intervention, which they would all likely refuse, and drugging her and forcing her to sign the paperwork—a little too much like a Jasper Dembenski novel for a guy who basically worked in a bank—he came up with what he thought was the perfect solution. He would use Silver’s pride against her.

Smug in his brilliance, Drew purchased the two Airstreams and arranged to have them transported to Silver. He knew she kept her current trailer in the huge, fenced lot behind the graphic design and printing store. On the morning of, the trucker dropping off the trailers texted Silver that her delivery was thirty minutes out. He also gave Drew a heads-up. Drew arrived just as the delivery did and told himself the fireworks would be worth it. That or he would be dead, and hey, then he wouldn’t care.

Silver stood in the middle of the paved lot, frowning mightily, with her hands on her hips. Drew pulled up just as she started explaining to the delivery guy that she hadn’t bought the trailers.

“I wanted to,” she said, looking adorably confused. “I’ve been by to look at them a half-dozen times, but I never...”

Her voice trailed off when she spotted Drew walking toward her. He figured confusion would quickly spiral into good, old-fashioned rage any second now. Three, two...

“Did you have something to do with this?” she demanded, glaring at him. “What is going on? Why are you here? Why do I have trailers? Dammit, Drew, what have you done?”

He motioned to the delivery driver, who was surreptitiously inching backward toward the safety of his cab.

“Sign the paperwork, Silver.”

“I will not. These are not my trailers.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And you can’t make me.”

Drew told himself he would admire the way she looked in tight jeans and tank top, with her long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, later. After all this was settled, he would try to figure out if the tattoo on her left arm was new, because he sure didn’t remember it and he’d seen every inch of her.

“I can’t make you? That’s mature.” He motioned for the driver to give him the clipboard. “I’ll sign for them. Let’s get them unloaded.

“No,” Silver said forcefully. “I will not let you put them here. This is my property.” She hesitated. “I rent this space.”

“I really have a schedule to keep,” the driver said, looking anxious.

“Leave ’em by the curb.” Drew grinned. “There’s plenty of room and that’s public property.”

“The Happily Inc police department won’t let you park them there indefinitely,” Silver told him. “It’s a violation of code.”