“Sisters having babies. I was missing out on a lot, and I didn’t like it.”
“You mentioned a partner. Do I know him—or her?”
“It’s Mitch.”
“Fielding?”
He nods, grinning.
“Oh, man, that’s a sweet deal. How is he?”
“Great. He’s got a beautiful wife and two amazing kids.”
It feels good to hear that. “I always liked Mitch.”
“He always liked you too.” More silence stretches before he says, “Did you go back to the bank with the new plans?”
“No. We decided to finance it ourselves.”
“We?”
“KT, Chloe, and I.”
“How’s that going to work?” he asks.
“We had an appraiser out to calculate the value of the property and equipment, and we’re taking that out of the equation. We’re each putting in an equal share for the renovation, and once the place sells after it’s all fixed up, we’ll split the profit three ways. KT has money from her father’s estate, Chloe wrote a bestselling book, and I—”
“Have a trust fund.”
“Don’t be an asshole. I wouldn’t touch that unless my kid needed a new heart.”
His head comes back, brow furrowed. “You have a kid?”
“No, it was just an example…never mind. I’m taking a loan against my 401k, leasing out my apartment, dumping all my savings into this.”
His brows shoot up. “You’re moving here? And quitting your job?”
“I’m hoping my parents will agree to a sabbatical, but I’m not holding my breath. They are going to hate this idea.”
“That’s an understatement. Moving out of reach? For this place? Unless your relationship with them has drastically changed over the last twelve years, they’re going to be wickedly pissed off.”
I rock my shoulders. “I’ll tell them when I get everything nailed down.”
“Oh, to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.”
I shake my head. “My point in telling you this is to illustrate how important this job is to me, to us. If you take on this project, I’m trusting you with everything I have, everything KT and Chloe have.”
He’s staring at me like he can’t figure me out, then says, “Huh.”
“What?”
“You’ll trust me with your life savings, your best friends’ savings and your crown jewel after we haven’t seen each other for twelve years, but you couldn’t even break up with me face-to-face before you left for Paris.”
Ouch. Big-time ouch. Like a knife twisting in my gut. I heave a sigh. “Maybe you could just suggest someone else and put in a good word for us.”
He offers an outstretched hand. “Let’s see your ideas.”
9