My smile faltered, and I tugged my hand out of his. “A proposition?”
He shifted, his eyes returning to his leather, now-water-slogged shoes. “Yes. My grandfather, he... he has a beach house.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And?”
“Well,” his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “I need your help convincing him to sell.”
A wave of amusement washed over me. “And why, exactly, should I help you?”
He looked up, his gaze meeting mine. “Because,” he said, his tone serious, “it's worth a fortune, and I think your viewers would love it.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You think I'm going to help you strong-arm your grandfather out of his home just because it's worth a lot of money...and my—I mean,my mom’s, viewers would love it?”
He sighed, a look of exasperation crossing his face. “No, of course not. It's... it's complicated. But I promise, it's for the best. It’s falling apart around his ears and...it’s not safe for him to be there on his own.”
I studied him for a moment, trying to decipher the emotions swirling in his expression. There was something there, beneath the surface, something more than just a desire for a quick profit.
“Alright, Ethan,” I said. “Tell me more.”
“Over dinner?” he asked with a hopeful lilt to his voice.
“Tomorrow night? When we’re not so waterlogged?”
“It’s a date.”
CHAPTER TWO
*CLARE
The BMW bounced down the winding coastal road, the salt air whipping through the open windows. I glanced at Ethan, who was staring intently out the window, his jaw clenched. “You sure about this?” I asked, my voice rising over the wind.
Ethan nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “He’s stubborn, but... he’s also a sentimental old man. If you can get him to see the potential, maybe he’ll listen.”
“I don’t make the decisions, Ethan,” I reminded him. “My mom does. She’s the one who runs the company.”
He looked at me, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “But you can show him what we can do, how we can restore the house while keeping its character. Maybe your pretty face will win him over.”
