Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(128)

“Ms. Castillo?” the real estate agent repeats while looking at me as if I have lost my mind.

Maybe I have. The lack of sleep, worrying about Cal, and the looming open house have done a splendid job of keeping me up late at night to the point of delirium.

“Yes?” I shake my head.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “No. Sorry about that. Do you mind repeating it?”

He huffs as he pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just was mentioning that we have plenty of people interested in the property, and we haven’t even had an open house yet.”

“Wow. That’s great.” My voice could not sound more wooden if I tried.

The real estate agent lifts a fuzzy brow. “So you’re aware, when we have multiple offers, that usually drives up the price.”

“Fantastic.” I rock back on my sneakers.

He frowns. “Is everything all right?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shuts his folder. “If you’re having second thoughts about selling the house…”

“No!” I raise my hand. “I’m just overwhelmed that we have so many people interested in the property.”

Yeah, overwhelmed with nausea.

His tense smile doesn’t settle my churning stomach. “If things go according to plan, Mr. Kane and you will have the property sold to the highest bidder during the open house.”

“Great.” The hollow pit in my stomach widens at the idea.

“I thought so. No way this house will last until the end of the open house.”

I suck in a breath. “Let’s start with the open house and take it from there.”

The realtor goes over the details he has planned, all while I drift in and out of the conversation with a confirmatory nod here and there.

“Would you like to be present when the buyers come check out the property?”

I give my head a hard shake. “No.”

I’d rather jump off the dock in a pair of concrete sneakers than sit through hours of people gawking at the home I love while I idly sit by, letting my heart get shredded to pieces knowing one of them will buy it from me.

Screw that.

Just because I’m selling the house to help Cal and his family doesn’t mean I have to like it.





The shrill sound of my ringtone wakes me up. I thought sleeping in Cal’s bed might help cure my insomnia, but Rowan’s call shattered my theory before I had a chance to try it.

I lie back down and answer my phone. “Hello?”

“Alana.” Rowan’s gruff voice fills my ear. “How are you?”

“Wonderful, especially now that you woke me up.”

He releases a huff of air. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think you would be asleep at nine p.m.”

Nine p.m.?!

Shit. I probably knocked out as soon as Cami did.

I grab the pillow that no longer smells as strongly of Cal and tuck it under my head. “I haven’t been getting the best sleep lately.”

“How are you doing?”

“About as good as one would expect after finding out your grandfather was hell-bent on making me suffer for some reason, although I’m not sure why. I was good to him. I even listened to his stories about Ireland like I hadn’t heard the same ones a hundred times before.”

His laugh is soft and quiet, drawing a smile from me. “He was a manipulative bastard, wasn’t he?”

“Ugh. The worst. What did he make you do?”

“Run and renovate Dreamland for six months.”

I scoff. “And here I thought we were on an even playing field.”

“It wasn’t as easy as it sounds, especially for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I was an idiot who needed a good ass-kicking.”

My grin widens. “Zahra mentioned she helped knock a little sense into you.”

“She did a lot more than that.”

I can practically hear the smile in his voice. Bitterness rises, ready to exploit my insecurities regarding my own relationship, but I shove it down.

“I assume you didn’t call me to gush about your girlfriend.”

“No, but who says I needed a reason to call?”

“You’re a Kane. You don’t do phone calls unless there is something you want.”

He laughs harder this time, making me grin. “I was hoping to speak to you about the tres leches recipe.”

“Seriously?” I thought he would call to check in on the house sale or to ask me a question about Cal.

“Seriously,” he repeats back in my tone, which makes me clamp down on my tongue to stop myself from laughing. “I was hoping we could come to a reasonable agreement.”

“Why do you want it so badly?”

“Because I know talent when I see it, and you’re the real deal.”

Heat crawls up my neck before spreading all the way to my cheeks. “Really?”

“Yes. Cal mentioned you’re interested in opening your own bakery, and I respect that kind of ambition. I’m sure you’ll go far with your skills.”

My phone slips from my grasp from how clammy my hand becomes. I don’t breathe, let alone interrupt him as he continues.