Speakeasy

Home > Other > Speakeasy > Page 23
Speakeasy Page 23

by Bowen, Sarina


  Yet his dad fired my dad, who I never saw again. He’s arrogant and smug, and I don’t like him all that much. Not yet, anyway.

  The truth is I don’t want to be Griffin Shipley’s enemy. Not if I’m going to spend my life with his sister. And that’s really all that matters, so this is an easy decision. “I agreed to pay two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars for the mill property.”

  “All right,” he says quietly. “Tad offered it to Lyle for three hundred. But Lyle didn’t counter yet. Better put Tad on notice if you’re going to pursue this.”

  I cut a bite of waffle and try to think what to do. I don’t have two hundred and twenty-five grand, or a solvent business plan. But I really don’t want Lyle as a neighbor.

  “What did you want the mill for, anyway?” Griffin asks.

  “A brewpub or a restaurant. But I thought I had time to find just the right plan. Mostly, I wanted to have a little control over what goes in right next door.”

  “You did tell me that you wanted to make beer,” Griffin muses.

  “Sure. But I’m not ready. And Lyle is. If I release the property to him, he can build a direct competitor, and I don’t get a say in how that gets shaped.”

  “Your uncle is Lyle’s biggest investor, though,” Griffin points out. “Won’t he make sure the plan works for everyone?”

  Well, this is embarrassing. “Not necessarily, no. Otto is still bitter that I opened the Gin Mill without giving him a controlling stake.”

  “Ouch!” Grandpa yells. “Otto’s got your balls in a vise, kid.”

  “Thanks for that image, Grandpa,” May says. “Alec, where can I read this agreement between you and Hamish?”

  “It’s just emails I printed out. They’re in a folder in my truck.”

  May jumps up before I can stop her and disappears outside. When she comes back, she pops open my folder on the table and begins to flip through the pages.

  “Told you it was messy,” I say.

  “It is…” She turns another page. “But you have a purchase price ironed out, as well as a timeframe. It’s not as precise as I wish it was. But still! A judge might rule in your favor. I give you a fifty-fifty chance.”

  “A fifty-fifty chance…” I repeat slowly. “But only if I force the issue. So if Tad’s lawyer blows me off today, I’d have to file suit to stop him from selling it to someone else? That sounds ugly.”

  “It would be,” she admits. “I’d help you. Or if there’s a conflict of interest, Rita will. But it will take some time.”

  I let out a big sigh. “You know what? No. If Tad’s lawyer is a dick on the phone today, I’m just going to have to let it go. It’s a waste of resources to make Tad fight a suit and to piss off Lyle. Because even if I win, I’ll still lose.”

  “Not true, because you could flip the place to Lyle,” May suggests. “Take out fifty grand. Use it to improve your own property.”

  Griffin’s laughter makes a loud booming sound. “The family shark has a point.”

  And holy crap. The things I could do with fifty grand. But only if it doesn’t cost me the goodwill of several people in town and lots of court fees, too. “I’ll call them back after breakfast and see if they’re listening. Although Tad had his lawyer call instead of talking to me himself. So I’ve got a bad feeling about his willingness to negotiate.”

  “I’ll need to be in on that call, too,” May says, straightening up the papers with her good hand. “Maybe they know you’re in the right, and they’re just trying to intimidate you.”

  When she looks up at me, determination burns brightly in her eyes. She’s going to defend my rights, and she can’t wait to do it.

  How did I get so lucky?

  I don’t consider the consequences; I just lean over and kiss her on the lips. “Remind me never to cross you, hot stuff. It’s much better to play on your team.”

  May smiles, and then she blushes furiously. It’s so cute that I have to kiss her one more time. Just a quick one.

  “Get a room!” Grandpa yells. “Oh wait, you did. Right over my head last night…”

  “Grandpa!” several people say at once.

  “Well, nobody refilled my coffee. I’m not responsible for the things I say.”

  * * *

  After breakfast, I wash some dishes until Ruth shoos me out of the kitchen. May is waiting for me at the dining table with a land line and a legal pad. “Let’s do this,” she says. “What’s the number?”

  We dial, then she puts the call on the speaker setting. “Could I please speak to Mr. Harrison?” I ask when the office picks up.

  “Hello, Mr. Rossi,” the lawyer says when he comes on the line.

  “Hello, sir. You left a message for me yesterday, saying you had some news about the mill property?”

  “Indeed I do,” he says. “There’s a recent will, and you’re in it.”

  “A will?” That doesn’t make much sense. “I’m trying to buy the property.”

  “I know,” he says. “And two weeks ago, right before his big surgery, Hamish updated his will, including a provision about your purchase rights. It’s a long couple of paragraphs, and I’ll just read the entire thing, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  The lawyer clears his throat. “‘With regard to my business property located on State Road Eleven, if said property has not been disposed of by the time of my death, it should be noted that I have an arrangement to sell the building and the parcel of land together to Alec Rossi, also of State Road Eleven. At the time of this writing, Alec is not quite ready to complete the purchase at our previously agreed-upon price. I will allow him one year from the date of my death to complete the purchase at a price of one hundred seventy-five thousand dollars.’”

  “One…seventy five?” I stammer as May’s eyes grow round. And now I notice that Griffin and Audrey are shamelessly eavesdropping in the doorway.

  “That’s what it says,” the lawyer agrees. “But there’s more. ‘In the event that Alec cannot complete the sale within a year, the property will revert to my son Tad, along with my other assets. Although a year should be plenty of time to secure financing at that price. Please let it be noted that this is a below-market sale, and should not be contested as such. It should also be noted that Alec bought his similar property at the same price, causing market values to rise in the meantime. The recent increase in the value of Colebury river property is almost entirely due to his efforts. It is my intention to put my saleable property in Alec’s capable hands at an advantageous price while still preserving an inheritance for my son.’”

  The lawyer takes a breath, and I notice that May is gripping my hand.

  “‘Alec Rossi may do as he pleases with the mill property, including selling it for a profit. There are no further restrictions on its use. But I trust Alec to find a suitable use for the mill, if one exists. While Alec does not consider himself to be a brilliant business man, I beg to differ. He has created a place where people gather together as neighbors, instead of staying home and staring at their phones. He’s built a business where locals and tourists mingle together, and a place where local products are prized above all. I’ve spent many happy hours on Alec’s barstools, and nothing pleases me more than to help him in this way. Also, any guy who brings muffins to an old man in the hospital knows that community is worth fighting for.’”

  May is scribbling on her legal pad, but I can’t read her scrawlings. It might be because she’s not left-handed, or it might be because my eyes are suddenly misty.

  “Did you get all that, Mr. Rossi?” the lawyer asks.

  I have to clear my throat before answering. “Yes, I did.”

  “The final provision offers you mortgage terms at an eight-percent rate. You can probably do better at a bank, though. I’ll put this in the mail to you, and you can have your own lawyer review it.”

  May’s hand squeezes mine again.

  “Thank you, sir,” I choke out. “I’ll get busy thinking about when
and how I’d like to execute the purchase.”

  “You have nearly a year. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  I thank him one more time, and May disconnects the call. “Wow,” she says.

  “Wow,” I echo.

  Griffin chuckles behind me. “I like your chances of buying it a lot better now.”

  So do I. “But Tad must be hating life. That’s some leg up Hamish just gave me.”

  “True enough. Hmm. If it was me…” Griffin trails off.

  I turn around and wait for him to finish the thought.

  “Maybe you should consider going halfsies with Giltmaker?” Griffin shrugs. “Make it a joint venture. That way you don’t have to start a brewery from scratch, but you don’t have to put in cash, either.”

  “Yes!” May agrees, straightening up in her chair. “Your equity in the building is your investment.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.” And I fucking hate that I have to say that. I’m still the dumb guy in the room.

  Except Hamish hadn’t seen it that way.

  “The building is worth two-fifty, or something like that, right?” May says. “Except you alone can sign it over to the co-owned business at one-seventy-five. That’s just as good as if you put in seventy-five thousand dollars of your own cash.”

  “That’s when your uncle and Lyle kick in their cash,” Griffin says. “And I put in my paltry share. You’d end up owning a third or more of the entity without putting up a dollar.”

  I’m following them now. Except for one problem. “But then I’d have to work with Lyle and Otto.”

  “True,” May says. “But you’d co-own a brewery with Vermont’s most successful brand. And you’d get a say in what’s happening next door to your bar.”

  “Excuse me while my head explodes.”

  Everyone laughs. Even Griffin.

  “May?” I take the pen out of her hand.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll take notes for you. I’ll type emails for you. But will you help me figure all of this out? How to propose a joint venture? I don’t think I can do it by myself.” Funny how easy it is to admit that if I’m saying it to someone I trust.

  “Of course I will,” she whispers. “I can’t wait.”

  I pull her into a hug, and she tucks her chin on my shoulder.

  For once, Griffin Shipley doesn’t even make a rude noise.

  Chapter Thirty

  May

  Ten days later I find myself in a tony bridal shop in Boston. I’m on a ridiculously comfortable pink chaise lounge, which is nice because I’ve been here an hour already and Lark has only made it through about a third of the dresses that they’ve pulled out for her to try on.

  I can’t stop checking my phone. There’s no way Alec will be out of his meeting yet, but I keep staring at the screen nonetheless. Today’s the day he’s going to pitch his ideas to Giltmaker. We prepared for this for many hours, and I’m dying to know what they’ll say.

  But I’m stuck here on a pink couch. And if the dowager who runs this place offers me a glass of champagne one more time, I might just take her up on it.

  Actually, I really won’t. I’m doing well and feeling good these days. But if only the old bat would take a hint.

  I sneak another peek at my phone. I open my email just in case Alec opted to write me there instead of by text…

  Someone clears her throat, and I look up to see Lark standing in front of me in yet another big white dress.

  “Whoops!” I say, setting the phone down. “That one is gorgeous.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t like this waistline.” She gives me the side-eye.

  “Did I?” Standing up, I squint at the dress. They are really beginning to blur together by now. “What do you think?” I ask, hoping she’ll bail me out.

  Lark tips her head back and laughs. “Nice try, babe. One of us is supposed to keep these things straight. To be honest, I’m not sure I didn’t try this one on already.”

  “Oh.” Phew. I sit back down. “Maybe we need some lunch.”

  At the sound of a potential customer leaving, the store owner swoops in. “Darling, that’s beautiful! But you should try the strapless version. You have the shoulders for it.”

  For some reason this hits me funny. “You totally have the shoulders for it,” I agree with a straight face. “I was just thinking that.”

  Is this how you talk in a bridal salon? And woe to the girl without shoulders!

  As Lark’s eyes sparkle with shared humor, I realize that a month ago I wouldn’t have made that comment. I wouldn’t have admired Lark’s shoulders even in jest, because for months I’ve been too careful around her. Too fearful of being misunderstood.

  It’s hard to say what flipped my switch. Maybe it’s Alec’s love. I’m sure it helped. But the passage of time helped, too, and forgiving myself for feeling resentful over someone I can never have.

  I don’t pine anymore. I’ll always love Lark, but not in a way that hurts.

  “I’ll just slip on the strapless one in a sec, and we’ll see if my shoulders hold up the bargain.”

  “Lovely, dear.” The store owner scurries away, and we laugh almost silently, our hands in front of our mouths.

  “I wish you’d just point to one and tell me it’s perfect,” she whispers. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  “They’re all pretty great,” I say. “Your skin tone works with white, even in the winter. So you should just start eliminating them. Work it down to three and then turn your mother loose on them.”

  “This one is too puffy,” she says, looking down.

  “Boom,” I say. “Off the island.”

  “Right.” She straightens up. “Thank you for coming here with me today. I didn’t realize it would take so long.”

  I lean back on the pink sofa and cross my legs on the chaise. “I’m at your disposal. Now let’s see some shoulders. Chop-chop!”

  Lark disappears into the dressing room, and then my phone rings. I answer it immediately, although I’m positive this is supposed to be a cell-phone-free zone. “Hello.”

  “Your boy is doing great,” my brother says into my ear.

  “My boy has a name.” It comes out sounding snappish. But I wasn’t expecting to hear from Griffin, and I’m a little tense.

  “Easy,” he says with a chuckle. “Alec is doing great. I just stepped out to use the john, but those charts you guys put together are seriously impressive.”

  “He worked hard on them.”

  “I know,” Griff says gently. “That’s why I’m telling you. It’s going well.”

  “Thank you. I’m just a little wound up for him.”

  “I know.” He clears his throat. “Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been a dick about Alec. I was caught off guard. You guys seem happy.”

  Huh. I did not expect an apology from my brother. “We are happy. And he’s a good guy. But the thing is—I can figure these things out for myself. When you’re a grump to Alec or when you and Mom make comments about Daniela, you’re slamming me, too. I’m tired of being treated like a child or a hot mess. Nobody ever speaks that way to you.”

  “I know,” he says with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I just get really pissy when someone fucks with my family. They should really know better.”

  Now I’m smiling into my phone. “Mostly they do. You’re not going to go psycho on your baby’s preschool class if someone grabs her toy away, are you?”

  “I might,” he says, and I laugh.

  “Her boyfriends are going to be terrified of you,” I point out.

  “Do you know something I don’t?” Griffin and Audrey haven’t asked the doctor for the sex of their baby.

  “Nope. Just a hunch.”

  “Maybe she won’t have boyfriends,” Griff says. “I think I’d rather she had girlfriends.”

  This makes me snort. “Even after you met mine?”

  “Yeah. I need my daughter to date someone smaller than me. So I can intimid
ate him or her.”

  It’s a struggle to keep my laughter quiet. Also, I don’t think Griffin ever met Daniela’s ex, Tracy. Who’d win that cage match?

  I’m practically hysterical here in the bridal salon.

  “I’d better get back in there,” Griff says.

  “Okay!” I agree, wiping tears from my eyes. “You tell my boy to call me as soon as it’s over.”

  “He has a name,” Griff says, and I laugh again.

  “Bye, meathead.”

  “Bye, hot mess.”

  When I hang up, I’m still smiling.

  * * *

  Lark and I, having survived the bridal shop, are eating fish tacos at a hole-in-the-wall. It was the first place we spotted, and dress shopping is hungry work.

  “Give me that,” she says, reaching across the table and taking my phone.

  “Sorry.”

  “I don’t mind being ignored. But you’re so twitchy over there.”

  “It’s driving me crazy not sitting in on that meeting. This is a big deal for Alec.”

  Lark regards me with twinkling eyes. “So this Alec thing went from just a hookup to not just a hookup, huh?”

  “You know it did,” I grumble. I already explained this on the way down from Vermont, but she’s just rubbing my nose in it. “I would have shared sooner, but my life is happening at double speed right now.”

  “That’s why you need to get your own place,” Lark says. “Did you like the apartment we saw yesterday?”

  “Of course I did. Except it’s too far…”

  “From Alec,” she finishes.

  “I was going to say from work. But that, too.”

  “Ah well,” Lark says, stealing a scrap of avocado off my plate. “I tried. If I can’t have you as a neighbor, at least you’ll be near your man. You’d better look at places in Colebury, then.”

  I want to, I admit to myself. Living near Alec would be terrific. Three snaps in the shape of a heart, my subconscious offers up.

 

‹ Prev