“It all comes down to sound business decisions, Miss Waters.”
I frown. “I don’t understand. When it comes to repaying my debts, I always follow the time frames you lay out. With a higher interest rate than most.”
His lips pinch on the latter.Does he believe I'm unaware of how outrageous my interest rates are? Or that he intentionally jacks it up.
“Each year, the amount you’re asking for increases.”
“I’ve accounted for all expenses in my business plan.” I reach for my purse, ready to whip out my copy.
“Miss Waters.” The banker says my name with a mixture of impatience and simmering ire. “First Trust will no longer give you loans without collateral.”
I jerk.He means my grandmother’s house.The home I spent my teen years living in and the only thing of value that belongs to me. I will never risk losing it, but he was making it impossible to grow my business. “I’m not asking for a million dollars!” Glancing at the on-lookers I lower my voice. “It’s a small loan that has never required a house as collateral.”
“But you are asking, aren’t you?” He stands, glaring down at me with frosty eyes. “Begging for my money, yet you offer nothing in return for my generosity.”
I flinch. “Your loans aren’t interest free?” I remind him.
“Of course not, Miss Waters. That would be poor business. As for my rates, they are high because your loans don’t last long enough for the bank to make money.”
“If I’m paying off my loans, as you say, using my home won’t make a difference.”
His jaw wobbles from the force of his teeth grinding together, and I shiver at the intensity of the hatred in his eyes.
“Your house as collateral is the only way I’ll lend you money.” He pauses. “I want you to succeed, Miss Waters. Have you considered that perhaps the house is holding you back?”
What the hell?
“You weren’t born in Candy Cane like the rest of us. You’re an outsider, like your grandmother was.” He turns away, giving me his back. “With my help, this is an opportunity to start over somewhere else.” He walks toward the elevators, leaving me in my rejection.
I blink back tears, feeling a sharp sting in my eyes as I fight to keep my composure. His words hit me like a physical blow, leaving me trembling and unable to respond. I watch as McKenzie, Mr. Cooper's daughter, exits the elevator with a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.
CHAPTER TWO
NAOMI
“Sis, I have great news!” My best friend, Charity, says the moment I sit at our table in the cafe.
I cringe.
“Well, that’s not the reaction I expected.”
“Sorry,” I say. “Let’s start over.”
“Too late. Spill, what’s wrong?”
I can't help but feel guilty for dampening her cheerful spirit with my disappointment. "I have bad news," I say, my eyes welling up with tears.
“Let’s hear your news first.”
Whenever we have news, it's always like this. The person holding the bad news is the first to share. I retell what happened at the bank, giving her all the details. Now that I’m rehashing the fiasco, I can’t believe it either. Mr. Cooper and I never had a run-in and as far as I know, neither did Grams. So why did he suddenly have a stick up his ass? I end my recount with, “He told me I don’t belong in his town.”
“He said what?” Charity pounds her fist against the table.
I sigh. The entire conversation was unsettling. “I get the bank isn’t making a huge profit by loaning me money, but what happened to supporting residents in Candy Cane?” I've always known there to be a pervasive atmosphere of deep-rooted charity and neighborly goodness, evident in the warm smiles and helping hands of the community.
“Community is the spirit of Candy Cane,” Charity reassures me.
It’s that small town generosity that drew me to spend summers with my grandmother and why I stayed after she passed. “It never occurred to me” — I swallow — “my neighbors want me gone.”
