“I don’t live in Jackson City. I live in Pineville.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s all mountain living, right? Plus, he’s filthy rich. I bet he takes you somewhere really nice for dinner. His mom happened to drop several hints that he’s single and looking. You know, if he sees how cute the girls are here . . .”
Thankfully, she let that trail away.
Of course I’d do it—I’d do anything for Bethie—but that didn’t mean I liked it. Setups like this were the worst. I felt awkward and judged and like I had to be peppy and bright and show off my best side when all I wanted to do was talk books. Or better yet, text the person instead and hole up at home with said books.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
Relief melted her features. “Thank you,” she whisper-cried after a quick peek at Shane, who I guessed had fallen asleep. “I’ll give you a bonus based on the final price. That should help with that whole-buying-a-new-car predicament you’re in. It’s a sixteen million dollar house.”
“Done!” I cried.
“All right. I’ll check with them, then email you the details.”
After a few more parting coos at Shane, we ended the call. I leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh. Maybe this unexpected date would work to my advantage in several ways. Besides, wasn’t this a classic romance novel plot twist?
Go on a date with someone else to test the actual love interest?
Nah, JJ wouldn’t care.
But while out there, I would refine some romantic theories. Resume my progress on proving in a data-driven way that romance existed. My wobbling certainty could benefit from a boost. If nothing else, the date would give me a control sample to record.
Then JJ would eat the romantic leftovers for breakfast.
16 JJ
Lizbeth sat at the folding table near Mark’s desk, red hair spilling onto her shoulders. She was mapping out a scanning system and organizational structure for Mark’s paperwork now that it was all categorized and alphabetized.
I lounged on the couch and tried hard not to stare.
After separating Mark’s disaster of papers—and freeing up a ridiculous amount of space—Lizbeth had stacked them all in alternating directions in three separate piles. They towered in the corner, where she hovered protectively over them and glared at anyone who came too close.
I glanced at the timer on my watch. Fifteen fresh loaves of miniature ciabatta had only a few minutes left to rise before I had to trek back to the main lodge and bake them. Meanwhile, Mark was spouting like a volcano, muttering in that maniacal way that meant a breakthrough was on the horizon.
“No.” He shook his head back and forth. “That won’t work, either.”
With my hands threaded behind my head, I leaned back against the couch and waited. About seventeen seconds would produce the desired revelation, if his hair standing on end meant anything. His initial spa plan had been thwarted by a zoning issue on the land he wanted to use. Now he was pacing, determined to work through it.
Most humans drowned when overwhelmed with ideas, but Mark drew energy from the impossible. From the unlikely. Adversity fueled him.
In a poor attempt to escape Mark’s impending outburst, I thought of Lizbeth. Again. Nine seconds later, Mark slammed a hand against the wall. I jumped, startled out of my thoughts. Lizbeth glowered at him with a precious fury beneath those light eyebrows.
“I’ll buy the old pizza place!” he cried. “I thought of renting, but this is better.”
My brow quirked. “What?”
“That’ll get rid of my zoning issue while keeping the building tucked away from the main road. It has that fenced area, remember?”
“It’ll still be loud when cars drive by. No one wants noise while they’re getting a massage.”
“We can reinforce the walls. Or put up some trees.”
“That would take more capital up front, or years.”
“True,” he murmured.
“What about the lot?”
He shrugged. “I’ll sell it or find something else.”
“Buying the pizza place also means you’ll still have a build-out.” I yawned. “Maybe even worse because they have to tear down the existing interior. You know you’re not patient enough for a build-out. And you don’t have the cash flow.”
He waved that off. “Funding isn’t the problem.”
“You barely saved Adventura.”
He rolled his eyes. “Adventura is fine now. Meg is paying me back. It had the same rocky beginning as any venture.”
Sensing a chance, I casually said, “Why not repurpose Adventura to do something else and bring in more cash?”
“I will.” He stroked his cheeks. “Once I can go full mountain man.”
This was where I had to stop. Mark’s dependence on me to save him from himself had become a problem between us. I wasn’t his mother. Granted, I was the person closest to him on this planet, but that didn’t mean he was my responsibility.
“When are you going to start drawing up boards?” I asked, bending my knee.
He settled on the edge of the other couch, then sprang back up. “Tomorrow.”
A strangled noise came from my throat. The question had been a joke, but his response wasn’t. I sat up.
“What?”
His grin deepened. “Oh, yeah. I’ve already got this rolling. Approval for a new loan came through yesterday. I could meet with the real estate agent tomorrow about the pizza place if it works out. Gotta get my eyes on it first, of course.”
“Damn, Mark,” I muttered.
He slugged me in the shoulder, but it didn’t move me. “JJ! This is it! We’re doing our next big one. Adventura is coming along. We’re successfully running four Airbnbs in three separate Colorado ski towns, and the car wash in Nebraska is holding its own.”
“It’s not profitable.”
“It’s . . . getting there. You can’t expect a toddler to swim. Give it time. This is awesome. This spa could bring
