Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(135)

The three of us.

Warmth floods my chest like a broken dam, spreading from my chest to my toes. There is nothing I want more than for him to prove me wrong, but a big part of me is worried to believe him. Worried to hope. To dream. To trust that he is finally getting the help he needs.

Cal places the chip in my palm and closes my fist around it. “I will be at the motel if you need me.”

“I thought you hated that place.”

“Not nearly as much as I hate being far away from you.”

I reach out for the doorframe to stop myself from falling over. His lips tug into a small smile, although he walks away before I have a chance to truly enjoy it.

I peek behind him at the bright yellow SUV in the driveway. It looks like something straight out of a comic book, with all the sharp lines and chrome. “Is that a Lamborghini?”

He throws me a smile from over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“What happened to your old car?”

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away. “Someone told me my other one isn’t safe for a kid.”

I blink.

He got a new car because you didn’t think his other one was safe enough?!

My grip on the doorframe tightens because I really do think my legs might give out.

“See you around?” His smile is hesitant.

I can only nod.

He drives off in his brand-new SUV he got for us while I remain staring at the space he previously occupied. I expected to feel relief at him leaving, but instead, disappointment presses against my shoulders.

Isn’t this what you wanted? Him gone?

That might have been the case, but what if he is telling the truth? What if he really is getting sober because he wants to better himself?

Only time will tell.





I’m driving back to the house after dropping Cami off at her dance class when I get distracted by the bright yellow Lamborghini SUV outside of the shop I’ve spent the last month ignoring.

Is that Cal?

My suspicions are confirmed as I catch him standing outside the shop, staring up at the building. I pull over and put my car hazards on. With shaky legs, I walk over to the man standing outside the store I always dreamed of opening my bakery in.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He looks over at me with eyes concealed by sunglasses. “Checking out the building.”

I turn to look at the shop. The red Coming Soon sign from before is no longer displayed across the windows.

“They left?” I walk up to the window and peek inside. The space is completely empty besides a few abandoned paint cans and a plastic sheet protecting the floor.

“I guess so,” Cal says from behind me.

I peek over my shoulder at him. “Why?”

“I overheard someone at the bookshop mentioning that the new landlord hiked up the rental prices.”

Shit! How will I ever afford this place now?

“What happened to Vinny?” Vinny’s family made a small fortune off renting out their tiny strip of Main Street for generations, so I’m surprised they parted with it.

“I heard he got bought out.”

My shoulders slump. “I wonder how much the new landlord is charging now if it ran them out of business before ever opening.”

“You could call their office and ask for a price.” He slides his sunglasses over his head.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Truth is, I’m tempted to give them a call. With all the money I’m getting from the deal I made with Rowan, I could probably afford the rent.

But still, something stops me—good old self-doubt, always popping up when I least expect it.

How many shops have tried to be successful here only to fizzle out? What makes my idea so different from the last bakery that opened here? Or the store before that?

“I’ll give them a call tomorrow,” I say.

Tomorrow sounds good. Safe.

He points at the sign taped to the door. “I dare you to give them a call now and ask.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.” His smile expands.

I shake my head hard enough to make my ponytail slap me in the face. “No.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he taunts.

“I’m not scared. I’m just…”

Damn it. I am scared.

Screw him for calling me out on it though.

His cocky smirk has me whipping my phone out of my pocket and dialing the number.

“You know what? I will call them just to prove I’m not.” I stab at the screen like it offended me. My finger shakes so hard, I misdial the number twice before getting it right.

A woman answers the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling to inquire about unit number seven on Main Street.”

“Ahh, yes. The rental unit. Is that the corner one?”

“Yes.”

Cal leans in closer, but I step away, not wanting him to overhear me receive crushing news.

“The property is available.”

“For how much a month?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“Five hundred dollars?” I rub my eyes. “How is that possible?”

“According to the landlord, the property has a whole family of mice living inside. As you can imagine, that’s not exactly a selling point.”