Picturesof Beckett smiling beside heartbreakingly sick children in hospital beds wereeverywhere, along with gap-toothed mite hockey players. Why hadn’t he braggedabout it over coffee?
Thenshe read the other stories—clips about bar brawls and arrests in the middle ofthe night on suspicion of drugs or alcohol that didn’t stick, lurid tabloid talesof his affairs with celebrities or somebody’s famous wife, and his breakup withYamila Hesham after she found him in bed withSomebody-Whose-Name-Paige-Couldn’t-Pronounce.
Inrecent years, the sordid stories grew more frequent. As she looked at his imagestaring back at her with a “come on, I dare you” look, she tried to reconcilethat man with the one she’d had coffee with.
“Youhave been on a long, slow tumble to the bottom, Beckett Miller,” she saidaloud.
She finishedwith a YouTube video about Lacy Delgado, whose heavy cocaine use one night inJanuary triggered heart arrhythmia and landed her in the ICU. No pictures fromthat event, thankfully, though there were some of pretty, dark-haired Lacy on aboat with her family and a stock photo of clean-cut, square-jawed BeckettMiller in suit and tie. The all-American. With disdain, a female commentatorwrapped the story with, “Time will tell if Lacy prevails in her lawsuit, thoughnothing will take away the pain of that night. Someday Beckett Miller won’t beable to skate away from responsibility. He will pay the price.”
Thebill just came due.
A sudden dislike for the smugreporter surged in Paige’s gut. She threw back her wine, switched off the lamp,and went to bed, questions buzzing like angry wasps in her head.
CHAPTER 9
Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
A week later, Beckett pulled into a coffee shop parking lotbeside Andie’s Tacoma and turned off his pickup. She hopped out of her truckwith a portfolio and a smile that shot to her eyes.
“Youlook like the cat who ate the cream. Or the canary. Or something tasty.”
“I’mpretty excited for you, Beckett,” she said with an outstretched hand. Hedebated yanking her into a hug but kept it to a cordial shake.
The aromaof roasting coffee filled his nose when they walked in, and he realized he wasin the same coffee shop where the barista had given him her number. He couldn’tremember her name, just the heart over it. She wasn’t there now—and no leggybrunettes on the patio either. He blew out a relieved breath.
Andiebought their drinks—she wouldn’t take no for answer, but she did it in such asweet way that he couldn’t argue without being a total dick.
Theycarried their coffees to a table by a window that overlooked the parking lot.When they sat, he slid his reading glasses from his shirt pocket and put themon.
Shelooked up at him and frowned. “What’s different?”
“Huh?”He pushed on the bridge of the glasses self-consciously.
Anothersmile. “It’s the glasses! They make you look smart.”
“Idon’t look smart without them?”
“No,professor, you don’t,” she teased.
“I’llhave you know I earned that marketing degree from DU—with honors, even.”
“Well,good for you.” She shuffled through a stack of papers she’d pulled from herpouch. She looked up at him then, and he must have been frowning because herfeatures softened. “I mean, that’s really something, especially when you had tosplit your time between hockey and studies.”
Was shehumoring him? Funny. Most people were genuinely impressed by that factoid. Oh,duh. Maybe not so impressive to a smart girl who went to DU on a meritscholarship.
Shetook a sip of her coffee. “I’ll present these in the order I got them. Thisfirst one is under asking price, and the buyers need to finance the purchase.They want to close in sixty days.”
Sheslid that offer off the stack toward him and waited.
“Okay.”
“Thisone,” she pointed, “is from a couple who attended the open house a few daysago. They called last night and asked me to write the offer on their behalf.It’s cash, full asking, no inspection, and they want to move in two weeks. Ireally can’t come out and say they’re motivated, but just connect the dots andread between the lines, which should be easy to do with your smart glasses andall.”
Hewhistled softly, and she pushed that one at him too.
“Thethird one is over asking, they will finance with fifty-percent down, and theywant to close in a month.”
Impressed,he flipped through all three without really seeing them. No wonder Marty andClaudia sang her praises.
“Goodjob.” He looked into self-satisfied, light green cat eyes. “Which one do youthink I should go with?”
“Yourpriority has to be price, though I know you want to close quickly too. But Iworry you won’t have enough to cover the IRS lien after paying off your loan,and I don’t want you bringing money to the table. So we have to get themaximum.”
Warmthpercolated in his chest—she had his back. He nodded again. “So the first one’sout.”
“Agreed,which leaves offers two and three. Two is cash, which makes it strongest, andthey can close fast. But if you’re willing to ride out three’s financingcondition and longer closing time, the difference in price should cover thelien and save you bringing money to closing. You might get to keep a little.”
“Three,then?”
“Well,I have another idea. We counter two and ask them to match three’s price. Ifthey accept, you’ll have the best of all worlds: cash, a quick close, and noout-of-pocket.”
“Butthey might walk if we counter, right?”
“Notlikely, but it’s always possible.”
“I likecash, and I like two weeks. I like their offer best. Besides, you’ll keep thewhole commission and make more.” He grinned.
Sheopened and closed her mouth a few times.
“Isthat not okay with you?” he asked.
“Howmuch I make shouldn’t be one of your deciding factors unless it affects yourbottom line.”
“For abusinesswoman, you don’t make
