Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(32)

I turn to face him. “Well, we’re not going to put it on the market for a million when most houses around the lake are selling for triple that.”

“Those look like the Ritz compared to this.”

“Then we give this one a little bit of a facelift.”

“With what money?”

I shoot him a look. “Are you pressed for cash all of a sudden?”

He barks out a laugh. “So you expect me to front the money? Of course.”

The appraiser’s eyes bounce between the two of us like he is following a tennis match.

“We can split the costs,” I offer.

“Where will you get those kinds of funds?”

“You can deduct it from my earnings once we sell the place.” Which is never.

If it were anyone else, I’d feel guilty for talking them into this crazy plan, but this is Callahan Kane. His trust fund is padded with enough money to make his great-great-grandkids little baby billionaires one day. Two hundred thousand dollars is nothing for him.

The appraiser shifts his weight from foot to foot. “In theory, she’s right.” Don’t we love to hear it. “The more you invest into a property, the more justified a higher listing price is. Remodeling a unique house like this would increase the profit margin significantly. Especially since there are lots of people searching for turn-key vacation homes in the surrounding towns.”

I gesture toward the appraiser. “See?”

Cal rubs his stubbled jaw. “Since when do you care about profits? I thought you didn’t want to even sell the place.”

“I’m thinking about the future, Callahan. I know it’s hard but try to keep up with me.”

His nostrils flare. “I am thinking about the future. It’s just that my version happens to be a realistic one.”

“Can we sell the house for more than suggested?” I ask.

Mr. Thomas’s gaze swings between the two of us. “Technically speaking, yes. Since the house is paid off and doesn’t carry a mortgage, you can sell it for any price.”

“That’s not a real answer,” Cal grumbles.

“Just because it isn’t the answer you want to hear doesn’t make it any less real.” I place my hands on my hips and stare him down.

Cal ignores me as he turns back toward the appraiser. “How much increase are we talking?”

The man flips through the pages attached to his clipboard. “If you fix the glaringly obvious issues I found with the place, then you can possibly get an extra million out of it.”

I shake my head. “I want to sell for three.”

The appraiser’s face pales. “Million?”

“Sure. If the neighbor down the road who had less land could sell their property for that price, why couldn’t we?”

“Because their house was brand new and had state-of-the-art everything,” Cal answers for the man standing across from me, staring at me like I’ve lost it.

Maybe I have.

I look out the window that faces the serene lake. “We have more land and a better view of the lake. I’m sure someone will be willing to pay three million for it.”

The appraiser tugs at his tie, loosening the knot as if it was choking him. “Well…it’s your choice to sell the place for whatever price you think is best.”

I raise my chin. “Perfect.”

Cal’s eyes narrow. “You can’t seriously think we will find someone who will buy this place for that much money.”

“Of course we can. All it takes is finding the right buyer. Isn’t that right?” I face the appraiser again.

“Technically yes. Although setting the price too high might turn some buyers—”

I cut him off. “Great. That’s all I needed to hear.”

He readjusts his glasses with a huff. In any other scenario, I wouldn’t be so forward and rude, but letting him speak out of turn might backfire on me.

Cal rubs his chin. “Now it all makes sense.”

I peek over at him. “What?”

“All your questions to the appraiser, your insistence on giving the place a facelift, and the reason why you want to set such a high price.”

Well, damn. He figured me out sooner than I anticipated.





13





CAL





I leave Lana in the kitchen while I walk the appraiser out. When I come back, I find she hasn’t moved from her spot by the window that overlooks the lake. Her fingers tap against the counter to the beat of her hum.

I seize the opportunity to take her in without being judged for it. She looks heaven-sent, with the golden glow of the sun surrounding her like a halo, highlighting the warm tones of her hair and the edges of her curves.

Those fucking curves.

Lana is soft in all the right places. Her love of baking and all things culinary has turned her body into a work of art, with hips meant for gripping and an ass meant for worshipping.

Don’t think about her ass.

Too late. My eyes drop, burning a hole into her leggings.

“As much as my ass appreciates the attention, I’d like to get along with my day. I have a ton of work to grade before tomorrow.”

My mouth dries up along with any type of rebuttal as my gaze swings from Lana’s legs to her face. Her brow lifts. She was always a straight shooter—a fact I appreciated until now.