That breaks my heart.
“If you could have one wish for this place, what would it be?”
He grabs the dirty pan from the stove and playfully bumps me away from the sink with his hip. “A smart man would say to sell the property for a mint and move on. But I’m not a smart man. And I can’t break up the property into smaller parcels. It’s part of the land trust agreement.” Soap bubbles float in the air while he finishes the dishes. “If I could wish for anything … it would be to see this place not just be restored to its former glory in popularity, but...” His smile is so warm, it melts my insides. “I’d expand the cabins and glam them up. Add more luxuries for families.” He dries the dishes, his gaze focused on the past instead of the pot he’s drying. “I want to revive Bear Creek Cabins and make it something so spectacular that my grandpa would smile down on me and say, ‘Atta boy. I knew you could do it.’”
I shrug like it’s no biggie. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. That’s easy peasy, lemon squeezy, baby. We’re totally capable of making that happen.” I scoot out of his way so he can put the pan back where it goes.
“You’re incredibly optimistic.”
Yes, I am. “You have to put the good vibes out there. Be in the mindset to make shit happen and it will.”
“Mindset and money are not the same. I might have one, but I definitely don’t have the other.” Before I can say anything, he holds his hand up and shakes his head. “I’m not taking any of your money, Grace.”
“I know.” Which means these videos are more important than simple click bait. We have to generateinterest fast. Get people invested in the process emotionally, so that later they’ll invest financially by staying here.
It’s not going to be a quick hustle.
My cell rings from the table and I smack Dean’s ass as I walk over and grab it. It’s Jackson. Chewing on my bottom lip, I’m torn between letting it go to voicemail and answering. “Hey.”
“Got an interesting call this morning,” he says.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm hmm. You’re on Bryson Clyde-Smith’s shit list.”
“That jackass can choke on a bag of dicks.”
“Grace. He’s not someone to piss off.”
“Neither am I.”
“Are you trying to sabotage a deal of his?”
“No. Is that what he told you?” The way Jackson doesn’t answer is answer enough. I roll my eyes. “He’s just mad that he’s not getting what he wants.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“He threatened me first!” The line goes quiet. “Hello? Jackson? Did I lose you?”
His tone shifts from frustration to pure anger. “Threatened. You. How?”
“It was nothing.”
“Gracie, I swear if you don’t fucking tell me what he did, I’m going to—”
“He grabbed my arm. That’s all.”
“What?” He’s big mad now.
“It got handled,” I say as fast as possible. “Dean—”
“Who thefuckis Dean?”
Ifeel like I’m seventeen again, trying to sneak around with my boyfriend. “He’s the owner of the property Bryson’s foaming at the mouth to acquire.”
