Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(13)

“I don’t know if I want to sell them.”

“It’s within your rights to keep or sell. The majority of my clients in your situation would sell and be done with it.”

I eye him. “Like I said, I don’t know what I want to do.” Am I ready to part with those memories? Lately, I’ve been entertaining the thought of returning home to put down roots again. Well, as soon as Uncle Sam didn’t own my ass anymore.

“May I make a recommendation on the business at least?” Shaw asks.

“Recommend away.”

“You should let the current manager buy it. She’s done an excellent job turning the place around, and—”

She? The hairs on my arms stand at attention, and I place the packet of papers on the table between us. “Give me the manager’s name.”

“Rowan Simmons.”

Leaning back in my chair, I shake my head and fold my arms over my chest. “You’re joking.” Somehow my grandmother had failed to share this with me. Somehow I had to use this to my advantage. If I had to deal with the business, then that meant I had to deal with Rowan. She would be forced to be in my presence, and I’d have an excuse to stay at my own home. A win-win in my tactical playbook.

“No. As I mentioned, the shop employs the majority of the former inmates in the Jailbirds to Jobs program.”

“The hell you say. How is that remotely safe?” Damn, the woman thinks she’s invincible.

“Mr. O’Connor,” Shaw begins, obviously ready to defend Rowan, but I wave him off and stand up.

“Great meeting. I’ll go through the documents again and start the process to finish closing out her estate.”

“And Gardner’s?”

“I think I need to go down there and learn more about my grandmother’s business before I make a decision. Don’t you agree?”

Wisely, Shaw keeps his mouth shut and nods. I say good-bye and stride away from his office, determined to find out what the hell’s been going on.





Rowan


Seth stands in the middle of the lobby of Gardner’s, looking sexy in a dark shirt that stretches over his broad chest and darker jeans that highlight his powerful thighs. The full lips I used to kiss all the time are set determinedly in a straight line. The dark stubble on his sharp cheeks makes him look dangerous.

A delicious thrill runs through me, but I ignore it and him. I have to.

Get it together, girl. You’re mad at him, not lusting for the fool.

Turning my attention back to Mrs. Hernandez, I smile. “We’ll put you on a payment plan, okay?”

She breathes out an obvious sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, Rowan. I don’t know how I could pay the bill, with Val in”—she swallows, embarrassment coloring her pretty face—“you know where.”

“You always pay your bills—everyone knows that about your family. So I know you’re good for it,” I say brightly, and Mrs. Hernandez smiles proudly. I’m not lying. Mrs. Hernandez always pays her bills, even if it means she has to work three jobs to do it while her oldest son, and the secondary breadwinner of the family, is in prison for auto theft.

I can feel Seth’s eyes on me, burning a hole in my head. Thankfully, he’s not the type to come charging in and demand I make Mrs. Hernandez pay on the spot.

A throat clears, and my stomach flips. “Rowan. We need to talk.”

Then again, I have to remember that the type of guy he used to be is gone. “Just a minute,” I mutter, then force myself to be cheerful once more. “Why don’t you go talk with Linda, and she’ll work out a plan with you?”

Mrs. Hernandez nods, following the direction I’m pointing to the desk in the back.

I turn to face Seth, but now he’s not paying attention. Instead, he’s taking in the shop, the fresh paint, the shiny equipment, and its cleanliness. His grandmother had been ill for a while before she died, and the place had gotten run down without her. But when I took over, I made it look as good as it did when she and Mr. Gardner first opened it.

Along the walls I hung old pictures of them. They’re young, proud, and obviously in love. I think the place looks great, but Seth might not agree. He might hate everything I’ve done to his grandparents’ shop, but it’s working. We’re in the black and making money, instead of losing it—even while supporting my Jailbirds to Jobs employment nonprofit.

From what Shaw said this morning, Seth is entirely within his rights to sell the place and my home. His home. Whatever. But he also said that he would encourage Seth to sell Gardner’s to me.

Seth’s hot glare makes me take a step back.

Yeah, he’s sooo open to selling this place to me, which sucks, because I feel like Gardner’s is mine. I’ve worked my tail off since I took over, and battled customers and vendors who tried to take advantage of me because I’m a woman and therefore apparently unable to make a decision without a man.

“Can we talk now?” he asks.

“Sure.”

Seth searches the shop. “Privately?”

My eyes grow wide. “Okay,” I say, wary as anything. I really don’t want to be alone with him, but if he’s going to bitch me out, then I’d rather he do it in private. “We can talk in my office.”