Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(136)

“A whole family of—” Everything clicks into place.

Vinny selling the property after it had been in the family for years. Cal standing outside the building, daring me to call the number and ask about the rent.

“Excuse me, something just came up.” I hang up and turn to face the new landlord. “You bought the building.”

He doesn’t even blink. “I’ve always been interested in real estate.”

“Monopoly doesn’t count.”

He fights a smile and fails.

My eyes narrow. “Are you the new landlord?”

“Technically speaking, yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because turning your dreams into realities makes me happy.”

“It makes you happy.” I repeat his words, processing them.

He frowns. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t even know what to believe right now.” The sobriety chip. His new car. The empty shop ready to be leased if I want it. It feels like too much all at once, and I’m not sure how to handle it all.

“I just want you to know if you want the shop, it’s yours. No strings attached.”

I grimace. “I hate being bought with gifts.”

“It’s not a gift if I plan on charging you rent.”

I snort a laugh. “Five hundred dollars a month is nothing for a spot like this and you know it.”

His gaze burns as he follows the curves of my body. “Well, if sex is on the table, then I’ll take that as well.”

I jab him in the ribs with my elbow before taking a few steps toward my car.

“Where are you going?” A hint of desperation bleeds into his voice.

“Far away from you.” I need to think, and I can’t do that with him smiling at me and talking about sex.

“But what about the shop?”

“Ehh. It’s a cute gesture, but maybe I want to explore my options beyond Lake Wisteria.”

Who am I kidding? Him buying the whole building to save the shop I want is something straight out of a Dreamland fairy tale.

He takes a step forward. “Where?”

I smile at Cal for the first time in weeks. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Don’t make me go buy up all the properties you’re interested in.”

“You’d go bankrupt.”

“Not even close, but it would put a nice dent in my bank account.” His eyes draw me in like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm.

I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re insane.”

“No, Lana, I’m in love. There’s a big difference.”





“What’s he doing here?” Violet’s head snaps toward the front door of Last Call.

Delilah and I follow her gaze. I lock eyes on Cal, who hasn’t noticed us sitting in our usual spot by the back.

The pit in my stomach becomes a canyon as Cal waves down one of the bartenders and orders his usual vodka tonic. He takes a seat by himself on the other side of the bar, giving everyone his back. I can’t make out if he is drinking yet or not, but my stomach rolls all the same.

“He shouldn’t be here.” My fingers press into the leather booth, leaving indentations behind.

“I’m sure he has a good explanation.” Delilah stares at her drink.

I stare at her like she grew a second head. “A good explanation?”

She doesn’t answer.

Violet scoffs. “What happened to getting sober?”

“He promised me he was.” I reach for the chip I keep on me at all times.

So much for that.

“Just hear me out—” Delilah tries to get my attention, but I’m too far gone.

My frustration boils over, and before I have a chance to stop myself, I charge over to his table.

“Alana!” Delilah calls after me, but I can’t hear her over the pounding of blood in my ears.

Cal looks up at the sound of my name, and his eyes widen as he catches me stomping over to his table. A few people turn to look over at us, the unwanted eyes making my cheeks heat.

“Here, asshole. You can have this back now.” I throw his sobriety chip on the table. It spins a few times before landing beside his drink.

The muscles of his back turn rigid underneath his shirt. “I gave it to you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t mean anything.” I motion toward his drink.

He pushes the chip back toward me. “I’m not drinking.”

“Then explain this shit.”

“Have a seat and I will.” Besides his clenched jaw and rough voice, he does a good job at tempering his anger.

It only pisses me off even more. The only reason I take a seat is because I feel like my legs might give out at any moment.

The hardness in his expression softens as he takes a good look at me. “It’s not what you think.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Of course it isn’t.”

“Give me a little more credit than this. I’m not risking everything with you for bottom-shelf vodka and flat soda.”

I stare into his eyes. “Then why order a drink in the first place?”

“Because I want to prove to myself that I’m stronger than my biggest weakness.” He stares at the glass in between us like it’s the enemy.