One Bossy Offer (18)

“I’m not so convinced you’ll give up that easy if I don’t sell. My grandma isn’t even cold yet, and you’ve already tried to buy me out multiple times.”

My jaw sets.

“I didn’t mean it to come across callously. I assumed you had a life in Seattle you’d want to get back to and taking the property off your hands would help. Since that’s not the case, I’m willing to wait like a good boy for your scraps.”

Her eyes narrow as she places a hand on her hip. “You just don’t want my grandma’s house turned into a development, right?”

I nod.

“Awesome. Then if I promise you it never will be, you can give up, right? Completely remove that condition from your offer, and maybe we’ll have a deal.”

“Listen, the thought of Bee Harbor becoming another marina or tacky chain hotel makes me sick. And it’s not like I’ve asked you for price protection. I’m merely asking that if you think I’m not a vampire by the end of this experiment and you choose to pursue other plans, you consider selling the land at any asking price you decide.”

“One hundred and fifty,” she clips.

“What?”

“I want a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Not for the inn, but for this 'experiment,' as you put it. Give me that and I’ll agree to the other insane conditions.”

My blood heats.

“Are you mad, kitten?”

She crosses her arms in front of her chest, trying to stare me down. “Crazy enough to stand here considering this while you call me that, I guess.”

“A hundred thousand dollars is more than fair compensation for roughly three months of consulting work on a project of this scope. Hell, it’s practically charity. I’m running this venture at a financial loss.”

“We’ll call it a Cromwell premium. Fifty thousand dollars a month seems just barely tolerable for dealing with you. As for the property, if I decide to sell, I’ll think about it. No promises.”

The screaming sundress wrapped around her siren curves suddenly seems too fitting.

She’s clearly intent on draining every drop of life from my bones.

My eyes narrow. “I know what you’re doing. An extra fifty thousand dollars gives you more than enough to bring the inn up to speed. You won’t need to sell then.”

She smiles and nods.

“Yep. And who was it who said they’re okay with helping me work against his own best interests?”

Damn her and those green eyes that could turn Medusa into stone.

This isn’t working out the way I thought it would.

Though maybe by the end of summer with colder weather moving in and the stress of trying to score guests, she’ll finally see reason.

“I’ll go up twenty-five thousand. That’s it,” I say.

I wouldn’t be Miles Cromwell if I didn’t negotiate hard.

She rolls her eyes and turns for the door.

“I knew this was a waste of time.”

Fuck.

She’s got ovaries like cannonballs. I’ll give her that.

“Fifty thousand dollars a month, even,” I bark at her back. “But you turn around and start today.”

Her mouth drops as she faces me again.

“Babysitting weed dude?” She shrugs. “Good to know not all guys in your company are hot bloodsuckers, I guess.”

“You sound disappointed,” I point out.

Her round face reddens. “You are a leech. Becoming my boss doesn’t change that.”

“As long as I’m a hot one,” I remind her, bringing my face dangerously close to hers.

A small gasp slips out of her.

Then she glares at me with spinning green razors for eyes.

I chuckle and move past her, ushering her forward with a sweep of my hand. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the team.”

I take her into the library where the whole creative team waits.

“Everyone, meet our new addition, Miss Jennifer Landers. She comes to us with considerable experience in cutting-edge marketing from Winthrope International. Since she has a background in hospitality and tourism as well as digital marketing, she’ll be your best resource to ensure this gets done right. Nothing less than the usual Cromwell-Narada excellence. Now, it looks like the tour bus is here, so we should move.”

Smokey Dave stops to introduce himself on the way out, shaking her arm like a tree branch.

“My friends call me Jenn,” I hear her say.

Sarah is right behind him, and the other team members come strolling in one by one to greet her as they file out.

Jenn starts for the door.

“One more word, Jenn?” I call.

She stops and looks at me. “It’s Jennifer.”

“But you said—”

“My friends call me Jenn. Try listening.”

I force back a smile.

“Okay, Miss Landers, since I have a personal interest in keeping the mayor of the town I live in happy, you’ll be reporting directly to me on our progress. I hope that isn’t a problem. After all, we’re both well aware you have my number.”

She glares, smooths her face, and shrugs. “It’s you. Everything is a game with its own set of rules. I expected nothing less.”

It’s amazing how much she loathes me after a few brief conversations.