“Sorry, that’s still a hard no.”
Barry drained his coffee cup. “Lemme know what you decide. But son, I wouldn’t wait too long. This building is a ticking time bomb.”
After they left, Xander stayed behind, chewing a knuckle as he stared through the bakery window at the hulking wreck beyond. Fueled by panic and Garrett’s strong coffee, his mental wheels whirred. He couldn’t re-open Souvenir Planet and risk injuring customers—or worse. He couldn’t afford to demolish it either, and if he sold, he’d lose everything—unless he negotiated some kind of sleazy under-the-table deal. With her journalistic smarts, Hannah would find out for sure, and she’d hate him forever.
No, there had to be another way.
“Refill?” Garrett had somehow materialized, holding a coffee pot.
Xander clapped a hand over his racing heart. “Jeeezus, give a man a warning.”
Chuckling, Garrett refilled his cup, then slid into the seat opposite, leaned onto his elbows, and raised one ginger eyebrow. “You look a wreck, my friend.”
Xander hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s the wreck, and I don’t know if I can salvage it.”
“Bad news, eh?” The baker’s icy blue eyes crinkled with sympathy.
“Abysmal.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “There’s gotta be a way to turn Borna’s offer to my advantage.”
“Borna?” Xander had only ever seen Garrett even-tempered, but now his freckled face contracted in a thunderous scowl. “That bastard tried to pressure Grandma Ella into selling this place more times than I can count. Dude, you cannot sell to him.”
“No, I can’t. I won’t. But man, he’s offering top dollar for properties like mine. If only there was a way to take that offer to the bank…”
A wide grin split his face, and he smacked the table. “That’s exactly what I’ll do!”
“Huh?”
“It might work, my carrot-top friend. And if it does, you and I are celebrating.”
Bemused, Garret shrugged. “Good luck, then.”
Xander hurried into his jacket. “I’ll need it. This is probably my last chance.”
Staying away from Xander until Friday evening proved damn difficult, especially after Mom’s distress cry interrupted their virtual sexy times. Knowing he was back in Trappers Cove but too busy with Souvenir Planet to visit—that stung, even though she’d been the one who’d asked for a breather to handle her mother’s medical care and theBeacon’s ticking clock.
File that away under lessons learned the hard way.
So when he knocked on her apartment door a little after seven, bearing takeout from Ali Baba Kebabs and a bottle of Prosecco, she nearly bowled him over with her overzealous embrace.
“God, I’ve missed you.” After a torrid kiss, she released him and dashed to her tiny kitchenette for plates and silverware. “My knight in shining denim, you’ve saved me from another dinner of instant ramen. Are we celebrating? Or do you always drink bubbly with your kebabs?”
He removed the cork with a resounding pop. “We, my love, are celebrating something spectacular.” He filled the crystal flutes she provided—souvenirs from her cousin’s wedding—to the brim and raised his glass. “To The Village!” Grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, he clinked his glass to hers, then chugged it dry. “Who just got a big fat bank loan?” He pointed his thumb at his chest. “This guy. I can’t wait to show you my plans.”
While she blinked in bewilderment, he unpacked their dinner. “But first, let’s eat. I haven’t had a bite since breakfast, and that was cold Pop-Tarts.”
The tiny hairs on her nape prickled. “What’s the village?”
“My new shopping center.”
Pretty lame name, but she’d help him find a better one. She gave her head a little shake. “Let me get this straight—you got a loan to renovate the building?”
“Sort of. Dig in, beauty.” He sat and attacked his pita wrap like a starving bear.
But he wasn’t fooling her with his enthusiastic chomping. He was holding something back.
She took a seat, dipped a garlicky French fry in tzatziki, and waited for him to drop the other shoe.
Xander set down his sandwich and wiped his lips, his movements jerky. “So, yesterday I met with a new contractor and building inspector.”
