“He might not have been wrong,” Cam murmured. As she climbed into the back seat, she stole another look at the building that had already captured her imagination before sliding over for Val to join her. Interesting. “Do we know if anyone else is looking at the property?”
“I was assured we were getting first crack.”
Once they were inside the cool interior and Val had provided their driver with the next address, Cam held out a hand. “Let me see the write-up for this space.”
“Sure.” Val passed over the packet of stapled papers, folded to page two where a spreadsheet of neat columns listed all the building’s pertinent details, including specs, remaining furnishings, utilities, and other particulars Val thought Cam should know.
Cam settled against the black leather seat and ran an index finger across each column, as if she could absorb the figures through her skin and then be able to recall them with a snap. Everything she read only made her more certain that this particular property was the ideal locale for the new youth center.
Out on the street, a car horn blared in an ear-splitting soliloquy, followed by the squeal of brakes, and as their driver stopped short to avoid colliding with the car in front of them, both Cam and Val shot forward with the momentum. The packets of papers dropped to the floor in a scattered heap.
“Goddammit, what the hell are you doing?” the driver shouted before catching hold of his temper. Using the rearview mirror, he looked at his passengers. “Sorry, Ms. Delgado. Ms. Sullivan. You ladies okay?”
Cam slipped back into position and smoothed her skirt while Val gathered up the notes on the various properties. “We’re fine, Ted. Just a little shaken up. What happened?”
“Not a hundred percent sure. I’m guessing a driver up in front stopped short when the light changed, but it caused a chain reaction at least five cars long. You sure you’re all right?”
Cam glanced at Val, who nodded. “We’re fine,” she repeated as Val handed her the packet she’d been reading before the minor excitement. “Thanks.”
While Val shuffled through the rest, Cam returned her attention to the details on the building they’d just left. Two lines in, she realized something was off. On a hunch, she flipped to the first page to note the address on top. “This is the wrong prospectus.”
Val leaned toward her to confirm the error. “Oops. Sorry. That’s where we’re headed.” She took the packet back and flipped through the remaining stapled paperwork. “Here you go.”
With a smile, Cam took the offered pages. But the smile froze on her face when she noted the name of the agent written at the top of page one: Jordan Fawcett.
It couldn’t be. Her heart thudded inside her rib cage, and her mouth went dry. A roar rose between her ears, drowning out all sound.
“Cam?” Val’s voice seemed to come from some deep tunnel. “You okay? Cam?”
She managed a nod, but speech deserted her, and her mind stayed mired in thoughts of the name on the page. Jordan Fawcett. It couldn’t be. Oh, sure. She knew he’d come back to New York after his football career was shattered due to an injury during a game. But he’d killed their relationship long before then.
Why, all of a sudden, did he get in touch with her? To sell her a building? After all the crap he’d put her through, he could come up with the Taj Mahal of buildings and she’d refuse to do business with him.
Tossing the packet of papers at Val, she found enough voice to announce, “On second thought, this place won’t work. What else have we got?”
Val flashed a confused expression for the briefest of moments, then smoothed her face into her usual confident business mien. “Hell’s Kitchen’s next. We’ll go from there.”
Cam turned to stare out the window. “Good.”
If Jordan Fawcett thought he could just waltz back into her life, he’d underestimated her ability to hold a grudge. Like her mother, she could nurse her grievances for a lifetime. And in Jordan’s case, even longer.
Chapter 2
“That agent called. The one for the Loughlin site? I told him you’re reviewing other properties.”
Cam sat with her back to her desk, staring out the windows at the river and the rest of the city skyline. She wished her assistant had told him to take a hike instead. Although, she winced at her own callousness, maybe not in those specific terms.
“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Val pointed out. “You want me to get you a fresh cup?”
“No, thanks.” Her mind wasn’t on coffee.
While physically, she was in her office, mentally, she was back outside that perfect building, staring at the intricate brickwork and the rows of windows while visualizing the property alive with the laughter and conversations of children and teens.
Why did Jordan have to be the agent representing the property? Of all the possibilities she and Val had checked out the other day, only that one made her tingle with promise. Oh, a few of the others were okay, but none of them pushed all her buttons the way the Loughlin Building did.
When they returned to the office after looking at the rest of the sites on Val’s list, there was the faxed floor plan, as promised, waiting on her desk for her review. She needed no more than a brief perusal to conclude Jordan’s property would be the easiest for her crew to rehab to fit their needs.
She sighed. Great location, great price, great building. Worst person in the world to have to deal with to get it.
God, she hated herself right now! What kind of director put her personal animosity above the needs of a charitable foundation? She’d run this organization for a decade. They trusted her to always have their best interests at heart. How could she go to the
