“Because your sister is a spoiled brat,” he said, making her wonder why he couldn’t see that Jenn was worse than Brooke. She lied, blamed her for everything, tattletaled on her every chance she got, and had him wrapped around her little finger.
“And Jenn isn’t?” Dylan asked as she felt him release her hips seconds before he wrapped his hands around her ankles and began pulling her free.
“No,” he said, making her roll her eyes as she was pulled free.
“For all you know, it could be me,” Dylan said with a heartfelt sigh, mostly to annoy him and-
Wow, he looked really angry, Dylan thought when he placed her down on her feet and-
“Run.”
She opened her mouth only to end up closing it, clearing her throat, and murmuring, “Fair enough,” when that muscle in his jaw ticked double time, letting her know that perhaps she went too far this time.
CHAPTER 1
Present Day
They were definitely up to something.
That much was clear, Dylan thought, watching the way that her father couldn’t quite meet her gaze before shifting her attention to her mother to find her smiling hugely, looking happier than she’d ever seen her before and-
Definitely up to something.
That was confirmed seconds later when she slowly shifted her gaze to the Bradfords to find Marc staring intently at a spot on the wall behind her as his wife practically bounced with excitement with a smile that somehow managed to outshine her mother’s.
That was interesting, Dylan thought, watching them for another moment before her gaze dropped to the untouched platters of food spread across the large boardroom table, taking in everything from the platter of finger sandwiches to the bowls of potato salad, pasta salad, assortment of chips and the plethora of baked goods strategically placed in front of them. Keeping her gaze locked on the two couples sitting across from them,Dylan helped herself to one of the mini cheesecakes adorned with cherry topping, her favorite, while she debated all the possibilities.
Perhaps they were selling B.T. Construction, but something, mostly the fact that they would have broken the news to them from the safety of another continent through a carefully worded email because of the large man glaring at them to her right, told her that probably wasn’t the case. God, she hoped they didn’t sign B.T. Construction up for another parade because she honestly wasn’t sure that she could handle dressing up like a leprechaun again, not after what happened the last time they tried to stuff her into a pot of gold.
And not after that group of kindergarteners got their hands on her…
Then again, maybe they changed their minds about retiring, Dylan thought, doing her best to avoid looking at the woman sitting to her left. God, she really didn’t want to think about what happened when her parents made the announcement that they were retiring and Brooke found out that they weren’t giving her B.T. Construction.
God, the screeching…
“Why are we here?” Quinn Bradford, the aforementioned large man glaring to her right, drawled as he began drumming his fingertips against the freshly polished table, the angry cadence echoing softly throughout the large boardroom.
Nibbling on the incredibly delicious treat, Dylan decided to see where this went. She watched her mother release a satisfied sigh as her gaze shifted to her husband, only to narrow her eyes dangerously when he didn’t respond. That was followed by a nudge, a resigned sigh, and a grumble before he finally said, “It’s about B.T. Construction.”
“What about it?” Quinn asked as his gaze flickered to his father only to find Marc struggling to bite back a wince.
Finishing off the last bite of cheesecake, Dylan reached for another one as she took in the two men sitting across from them, noting the way that her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair, cleared his throat before opening his mouth only to close it again and sent Marc, his childhood best friend and business partner, a glare. Curious about that, Dylan watched as Marc matched his glare before her gaze flickered back to her father to find him narrowing his eyes on his best friend, which, of course, was immediately matched by Marc while the two men sat there, glaring in awkward silence while Dylan couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would mind if she ate the last cheesecake.
“We’ve made a decision,” her father bit out after a moment, still glaring at Marc, she’d like to point out.
“And that would be…” Quinn said, still drumming his fingertips against the tabletop while Dylan glanced from the large man who really seemed to love to glare to her right to his father before she glanced at her father and-
“We’ve decided to give one of you B.T. Construction,” her father announced with a heartfelt sigh that had Dylan absently nodding as she reached down into her bag and grabbed the book she’d been reading, realizing that this had nothing to do with her.
With that, she helped herself to a fudge brownie, found where she’d left off, and leaned back in her seat with a satisfied sigh. As much as she loved B.T. Construction, and she did, it just wasn’t something that she was interested in doing for the rest of her life.
Ever since she was a little girl, she had one goal, to restore Blackwood Manor to its previous glory. She’d dreamed of the day when it would finally be hers, and now, after years of sacrificing, saving, and putting up with Brooke’s bullshit, she was one step closer to making her renovating dreams come true.
She would have preferred to ask her father for help, but since that meant telling him that she bought the house the city tried to condemn seven times in the last five years alone, she’d been left with no choice but to ask Brooke for help instead. He wouldn’t be happy when he found out what she did, which was why she planned on keeping this from him until after she renovated Blackwood Manor and found a buyer.
Until then, she would have to continue working for B.T. Construction and be at Brooke’s beck and call for a few more years, but it would be worth it. When it was finally done, she would have-
Wait.
