"Let me go back to the office where it's quieter." I hear him go back there. "Okay, go ahead."
I tell him what happened and how I need a place to stay. I tell him I'll sleep in a closet if that's all he has, and I'll only stay until I'm done with my community service.
"Of course you can stay," he says. "There's a room near the kitchen we give employees if they have to stay over because of a storm. It's much smaller than the one you're used to but it's available if you want it."
"I'll take it! I won't be able to pay you until I get my check on Friday but—"
"How about we forget about payment and you help out in the kitchen instead? With Lois out, we could use an extra set of hands. It wouldn't be much. Just a few hours a day helping the chef with some prep work. And all your meals would be free."
"Yes! Absolutely! I'll take it! I can't thank you enough for this, Tom."
"Glad I could help. When can we expect you?"
"I'll drive up tomorrow morning. See you then."
I toss the phone on my bed and think about what to do next. Do I start looking for jobs in New York, or just forget it and go back home? I never thought I'd even consider moving back to Kansas but after everything that's happened, my dream to live in New York doesn't seem like a dream anymore. Aiden lied to me. I lost my job. And I'm being evicted from my apartment.
Maybe I could just go home for a year and use the time to reassess what to do with my life. I don't have to stay in Kansas. I could move somewhere else, some place that isn't New York.
After an hour of going back and forth between staying and going, I decide Kansas is the better option, or more likely, the only one. I'm out of money. Even if I got a job in New York, I'd need over a month of income before I could afford rent, or more than that with the deposit.
I call up the owner of the catering business Macie told me about, the woman looking to hire an event planner. If she gives me the job, I'll take it as a sign that it's time to leave New York, and move back home.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aiden
"This is NOT what we agreed to!" I slam the contract on Roger's desk, glaring down at him, anger coursing through my veins.
Roger changed the deal. He put in a lowball offer and took out all the language saying how we'd preserve the inn and only upgrade what was absolutely necessary. It's what I promised Tom, and I don't go back on a promise.
"I can do as I please," Roger says, rising up from behind his desk and looking me in the eye. "It's my company, and I'm not in the business of making deals that lose money."
"We're not losing money. You saw my projections."
He laughs. "Profits of two to three percent? That's not even in the ballpark of deals we'd consider. You know that, Aiden."
"This isn't like one of our deals in New York. It isn't just about profits. It's about expanding into a new market. You said you wanted a property in New England and that's what I got you. And then you go and change the terms?" I turn and walk away from him before I explode. I can't believe he went behind my back like this. It reminds me of something Celine would do. I guess now I know where she gets it from.
"I didn't ask for a run-down country inn. I asked for a place New Yorkers would want to go for a quick weekend escape. A place with charm, yes, but also modern amenities and a full service spa. World class cuisine. Nobody wants to go to some hundred year old building that serves diner food and doesn't even have televisions in the rooms, or plugins for a phone."
I walk back to him. "That's exactly what they want. If they wanted a spa and world class cuisine, they'd stay in New York. People go to a place like The Maple Farm Inn to relax, not spend all day on the phone or working on a laptop."
"I respectfully disagree," he says, sitting back down and waking up his computer. "And since it's my company, it's my decision."
"You can't be serious." I point to the contract. "That offer is completely unreasonable. You're lowballing him, hoping he's too stupid to know the offer isn't even half what the inn is worth."
"Of course he knows what it's worth," Roger says as he types on his keyboard. "Any real estate agent could tell him, and the value is listed on his property tax assessment."
"Then why would you even try to give him an offer like that?"
"Because I know he's desperate to sell. Desperate men take desperate offers. And we profit from that." He glances at me. "I really should commend you for finding us this deal. It was perfect timing. The place hadn't even been listed yet. We're going to get the place for a steal."
I'm fuming, my hands forming fists as I work to control my anger.
"A man is forced to sell his dream because his wife has cancer,” I say. "And you're happy about that?"
Roger looks up from his computer. "People find themselves in unfortunate situations all the time. I agree this man's situation is sad, to say the least, but if I weren't buying the place, someone else would. And they'd be doing exactly what I am—offering lower than market price to someone desperate to sell. It's no different than someone putting a low offer on a house knowing the homeowner's in a hurry to get rid of it. It's business, Aiden. It's not personal." He looks back at his computer.
"And it's not what we talked about," I say, my jaw tightening. "You lied to me, Roger.
