Possessive Best Friend

“What is that monstrosity?” he asks.

“That’s for Uncle Ron,” I say. “Is he in?”

“I believe he’s in the dining room taking lunch.” Archie hesitates. “And by lunch, I mean gin.”

I smile at him. “Perfect. Maybe he’s in a good mood.”

“Lost at golf to your father today, so I doubt it.”

“Poor man.” I hurry off to the dining room and head inside. I spot Uncle Ron sitting alone at a table in the far corner, smoking a cigar, drinking a glass of gin, and reading the Wall Street Journal. He’s dressed just like the day before in golf attire.

“Hello, Uncle Ron,” I say, smiling at him.

He looks up at me and frowns. “Oh, you,” he says. “Hello.”

I beam at him. I’m not letting this sourpuss jerk ruin my good mood. I just had one of the best orgasms of my life in the back of this asshole’s truck, so things can’t get better.

“I come bearing gifts.”

“Do you?” He puffs his cigar. “And what gift is that?”

I hesitate. “The truck.”

“Truck?” he frowns at me.

“The F-150 Limited.”

“Ah, yes, a good truck,” he says, nodding. “I’ve been wanting one. But what do you mean, you come bearing it?”

I stare at him, my eyes wide. “The warehouse. The truck. We had this conversation yesterday?”

He frowns for a long moment then groans. “Ah, yes, yes, yes, I remember now. I forgot all about that conversation.”

I stare at him. He must have a terrible drinking problem and I didn’t even realize it. There’s no other way to explain it.

“Would you like to see the truck?” I ask. “I have it just outside.”

“Color?”

“Burgundy.”

“Perfect,” he says. “I’ll see the vehicle later. In fact, have Archie drive it around back and park it in the garage. I’ll see to it at my convenience.”

“Okay, I can do that,” I say.

He turns back to his paper, puffing his cigar. He sips his drink then realizes a moment later that I haven’t moved.

“Yes?” he asks. “You were going to go move the truck?”

“The warehouse,” I say. “You asked for the truck. I got you the truck.”

He nods. “It’s a nice gesture. It truly is, and makes me think you really are a serious buyer. So I will sell to you.”

I stare at him. “The truck wasn’t… the price?”

He barks a laugh. “God, no, girl, are you insane? No, the warehouse will cost $2 million, just what I paid for, not a cent more or less. You are family after all, dear.”

I laugh stupidly. “Two… million?”

“Yes, Lora. Wipe that stupid look off your face, girl. It’s a warehouse, not a bloody truck. How much did you think it would cost?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” I admit.

“Well, think next time,” he snaps. “Come up with the money. I know you can. When you do, I’ll sell.” He turns away and this time I go to leave. “And have Archie park the truck!”

I nod and stumble away.

I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a family discount. But $2 million… I can’t come up with that much. I have it, but that would take a huge chunk out of my trust, and I wouldn’t be able to draw on it again for… years, maybe. I’m not sure.

Shit, shit, shit. Anger rolls over me, hot and white and clear. I can’t believe Uncle Ron is such a bastard.

But I’m not giving up. There’s money here, I just have to figure out how to get it. I’m buying that warehouse no matter what.10DeanI get a call a few hours later after dropping Lora off and walking halfway back to the office. I’m tired but goddamn, am I happy, and nothing can bring me down. So when I see her name pop up, I answer instantly. “Hey,” I say. “How did it go?”

“I want to see you.”

I hesitate and clear my throat. “Yeah, sure. What time is it?”

“After seven? I don’t know. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at home.”

“Oh, I want to see it. You have a house?”

“I have a house,” I confirm. “Turns out, the housing market in Loftville is a buyer’s market.”

“Text me your address. I’m coming over.”

I take a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah, okay. Sure. It’s a mess right now, though.”

“Clean up fast.”

She hangs up and I’m left smiling. I shoot her a quick message then go into full-on panic mode, cleaning as much as I can.

It’s not like I live in a dirty house. I keep my shit neat and orderly the best that I can, but still. I’m a bachelor and I’m not exactly on top of the straightening as much as I should be.

I get changed and by the time I get the place in a halfway decent state, I hear a car pull into my driveway and a door shut. I hear a voice then someone knocks at my door. I feel strangely nervous, although I can’t be sure why. I walk to the door and there’s Lora, smiling up at me.