Once we were seated in the comfortable sofa and chair in his dark-paneled office, I told Grandpa what I had found. “Was she buying the building from you? And if so, why? And why didn’t you tell me?”
Grandpa seemed to choose his words carefully. “Yes, she was. John told her he was going to sell and she had to either come up with the money to buy or find another retail space. It would have cost her a fortune. Her hope was to sell her house and move into the space upstairs from the bakery, but you and I both know she could never qualify for a commercial loan regardless.”
“Why didn’t she come to me?” I asked.
“She didn’t come to anyone. I heard about the situation from John at the Rotary Club meeting. He said he had an offer on the place from a developer from out of town. I talked to Doc about it, and we decided to buy the place to keep control of part of the historic downtown in local hands. Plus we had the money, so why not help her out?”
“But she was killing herself making payments to you. Why? Why didn’t you let her make smaller payments?” I knew my anger was coming out, but I was unable to hide it.
“West, take a breath and think for a minute. Do you really think that’s what happened?”
I thought about how my grandfathers hadn’t wanted a single dollar from me for the medical practice and Victorian home I lived in. I remembered countless people in town over the years Grandpa and Doc had helped financially. Grandpa had made a killing in cattle ranching while Doc had run a successful medical practice for years. They were some of the wealthiest and most generous people in all of Hobie, Texas. There was no way they’d ask her to pay more than she could afford.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally. “Please explain.”
“I didn’t know she was struggling to make the payments, West. Adriana is the one who set the payment amount, not me. I told her to pay what she could afford. Everyone in town goes there for breakfast, so I assumed she was doing well enough to afford what she was sending me. If she wasn’t, this is the first I’m hearing about it.”
I let out a huff and slumped in my chair. “I don’t know. I agree she should have been doing better. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Does it matter at this point? What is Nico planning on doing with the business?”
“Good question. I guess you’re right. I’m not sure Rox has any interest in owning her own business, and I think she’s been afraid to ask Nico what his intentions are. I’ll ask him when I get home.”
Grandpa raised his eyebrow at me, and I realized what I’d said.
“I mean, I’ll ask him when I get back. To drop off Pippa. Don’t look at me like that.”
“What’s going on between you and the new guy, Westie?”
Doc slipped into the office without the baby and came over to sit next to Grandpa on the arm of the couch. I assumed he’d left Pippa in Darci’s capable hands.
At the mention of Nico, I felt my fair skin heat up and betray me like a jackass.
Grandpa’s lip curled up in a grin. “Is that right, West? Care to elaborate, son?”
“No,” I said stubbornly.
“Has a certain someone we know and love been taking an intimate course in body piercings?” Doc chuckled as he realized what was going on.
Was it hot in here, or was it just me? I thought about the piercings I’d discovered on Nico and knew, just knew, the babbling was going to start if I didn’t get out of there soon.
Grandpa’s grin grew wider. “Just tell me one thing, West. Does he have a Prince Albert? I went through a period of time in the eighties when I begged Doc to get one.”
I sputtered and stood up, desperate for my escape, but Doc and Grandpa continued like everything was normal.
Doc put a finger to his lip as if in thought. “You know, now that I’m retired, maybe I’ll try it. I wonder if we know anyone who could do it for us. Think Nico would take a stab at it?”
The idea of Nico having to handle my grandfather’s junk made me ill.
“You two are disgusting. That’s… ugh. Stop. Please,” I begged.
“So does he?” Grandpa asked.
“Does who, what?” I muttered.
“Does Nico have any interesting piercings?”
Doc chimed in. “Or ink in private places? I’ve always been particularly fond of tattooed asses myself. Just seeing all that—” His hands came up to squeeze invisible butt globes. “Nngh.”
“Yes! Okay? Yes. All those… things. But— I mean, no. No Prince Albert. But other things and, well, the ink. Okay? Yes, there is ink. Lots of…” I took a breath that came out as more of a sigh. “Lots of ink. In places.”