Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(30)
I text Cal once he leaves.
You have a delivery.
His reply is instantaneous.
Cal
Be right there.
Perfect. At least this way, we can talk about what happened yesterday and get something straight.
I had planned on speaking to Cal once he came over this afternoon to work on the attic, but he never showed after I came home from work.
It doesn’t take him long to pull into the driveway with his fancy car. Not sure how he plans on fitting all those boxes inside his trunk, but I wish him the best of luck regardless.
“Hey.” He doesn’t remove his sunglasses.
I cross my arms. “Hi.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “About yesterday… Thanks for checking on me.”
My lips tug down into a frown. “I don’t want you getting drunk inside of my house again.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. If I find you like that again, then I’m calling a moving company to bag your stuff for you.”
His head hangs and his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, revealing his bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Apologizing doesn’t mean anything when you have no intention of fixing the problem in the first place.”
His hands clench by his sides. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
He looks up, and the tick in his jaw has my heart sinking in my chest.
I don’t want to hurt him, but I have a kid to think about. There is no way I want Cami to find Cal stumbling about the house, drunk and incapable of controlling his emotions.
She deserves better than that.
"I have a problem. An addiction.”
My mouth opens only to shut a second later.
“I know I’m powerless over alcohol. They taught me as much in rehab and AA. But I can’t ignore how ashamed I am, knowing I’m only slightly better off than I was six years ago.”
My eyes burn.
He takes a deep breath. “I can’t quit drinking completely yet, but I’ll limit myself for you. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have, and what happened in the attic was unacceptable and pathetic.”
Oh, God. My whole chest aches.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Okay,” I rasp.
He releases a heavy exhale before grabbing the largest box from the pile and turning toward his car. With the size of his trunk and back seat, he only manages three boxes before he runs out of room.
Rather than stick around, I slip back inside, leaving him to sort out the rest of his packages, along with how the hell he plans on tackling the attic without drinking again.
12
ALANA
It only took Cal two days after the attic incident to schedule a meeting with the appraiser. I didn’t have an option to say no, especially when Cal went out of his way to plan it around my school schedule.
Cami promised to stay upstairs in her room and play with her toys, so long as I order pizza for dinner tonight. It’s a fair price to pay for her cooperation. I’m not ready for her to ask me questions about the house, especially when there is a risk my plan might fail.
Doubts about Violet’s idea sink in, eating away at my confidence as I near the front door.
All you need to do is make it impossible for Cal to sell the house.
Easier said than done, the antagonistic voice that always speaks up at the most inconvenient times replies.
I roll my shoulders back and open the door. “Hello.”
“Hi there. I’m Mr. Thomas,” the older man introduces himself. From the horn-rimmed glasses to the suspenders, I’m not sure where Cal found this man. Based on the pinstripe suit and his black-and-white wingtip shoes, I suspect the 1920s.
Mr. Thomas shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Are you Ms. Castillo?”
“That’s me.”
He looks down at his clipboard with an arched brow. “Is Mr. Kane here?”
I haven’t seen him since he disappeared inside of the attic an hour ago.
An idea dawns on me.
I pout. “Actually Cal isn’t able to make it today, so it might be best if we reschedule.”
“Oh. Okay then. When are you thinking?”
“Does December work for you?”
He looks down at the calendar on his phone. “Of this year?”
I shake my head. “The next.”
One of Mr. Thomas’s brows raises in question. “I’m not booking that far out yet.”
“A pity then. I’ll be sure to have Cal give you a call in a year then.”
Speaking of the devil, his steps echo off the vaulted ceiling as he runs down the stairs two at a time. “Ignore her. She’s just joking.” He stops in front of Mr. Thomas and offers his hand. “Please call me Cal.”
“Nice to finally meet you.” Mr. Thomas gives Cal’s hand a good shake. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get started. Given the size of the property and my tight schedule, I’d like to not rush before my next appointment.”
“No problem.” Cal shuts the door behind him and gestures toward the double staircase. “Would you like to start upstairs or down?”