Worth More Than Money (Worth It 3)

“Yes. Before my godfather passed, Anton was in the process of turning the second closet in that room into a nice bathroom. It’s not finished, but the plumbing is there,” I said.

“Wonderful. What about building permits? Could we get them approved to expand on the property?”

“Anton owns all the acreage this house sits on. There is a guest quarters a half a mile back on the property, though I can’t honestly say I know what condition it’s in.”

“It’s in working condition,” Mr. Angier said. “Two more bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. A private room that is currently being used as a library, a small kitchen, and a living and dining area.”

“That would be good for staff that stays overnight,” the woman said. “But the building—”

“I can work with you on acquiring the appropriate building permits to expand when the time comes,” Mr. Angier said with a smile.

As we walked around the house, I let him take the reins of the showing. He was providing more than acceptable answers and selling it at an angle I wasn’t too familiar with. Meanwhile, I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Michelle. They took over an hour to walk through the house, going so far as to walk us all the way back to the guest quarters so they could take a look. But with each thing they saw, their eyes grew wider with excitement.

Which made Mr. Angier excited.

“Does the furniture come with the house?” the woman asked.

“If that’s something you want, it can most certainly be arranged,” I said.

“That would help us out a lot in the beginning,” the woman said as we made our way back to the front of the house. “While it’s still a little too soon since we have a small board of investors to talk with, I think it’s safe to say that we’ll be sending over an offer soon.”

Mr. Angier beamed from ear to ear at those words.

“We’ll be on the lookout,” I said. “And in the meantime, if you have any questions or concerns, you can contact me through Mr. Angier. Though it sounds like he has all the answers you could ever need.”

“He’s been very helpful, yes,” the woman said with a smile.

She shot Mr. Angier a look and I tried to suppress a grin. It seemed as if my realtor was helping himself to a little more than he initially bargained for.

“Thank you so much for letting us see the house, Mr. MacDonald.”

I shook the woman’s hand before leading the group of people to their car.

“Anytime,” I said, as I opened her door. “We’ll be in touch, I hope.”

“Trust me. We will,” the woman said.

Then she shot Mr. Angier one last look before getting into the car and driving off.

I said my goodbyes to my realtor, then went inside and shut the door behind me. Michelle had been nowhere to be found on the tour, and when I pushed her door open I didn’t see any of her things. Had she left? Why the hell did she do that? I specifically told her not to. I told her I’d need to get in contact with her eventually. If she was really carrying my child, why run at the sound of lawyers? I knew she had something to hide. Another mark against her in the ‘pros’ and ‘cons’ list I had going in my head.

Why run when someone had nothing to hide?

I wasn’t worried about finding her, though. Gold diggers always found me. All I had to do was wait, because the second she figured out how expensive it would be to foot all those medical bills on her own without any insurance or a job to keep her afloat? She’d find her way back to me.

They always did.

I went and sat down on the leather couch and tried to keep the memories at bay. I tried to push away all thoughts of Michelle as I sat back into the cushions and closed my eyes. The house felt empty now. Quiet. A little too quiet for my liking. And until I signed off on the purchase of Anton’s home, I’d have to stick around. I pulled myself up from the couch, groaning as I stood. There was a beat-up Chevy dripping with my guilt I needed to continue to repair.

The last shred of my past I needed to unload from my back.

As I popped the hood of the car and got to work, memories of my past came barreling back. I’d been a little shit as a kid. But despite my faults, Anton looked past all of that and gave me a second chance to do better. I had no idea how the hell the old man was so patient with me. I would’ve tossed my angry ass out on the street or enrolled me into a military program of some sort. He had been so generous and so gentle. Even now, after his death, I’d spent an entire month giving away his shit to people who needed it. Donating his surprising wealth to charities who needed it. Hell, I was about to sell his own damn house off to a non-profit I knew he’d get behind if he were still alive.

His generosity continued to amaze me.

I put in the last of the parts needed under the hood before grabbing the keys. I slid behind the steering wheel and put the key in the ignition, praying the damn thing wouldn’t explode. I cranked it up and heard it sputter to life, filling the garage with the roar of its engine. I throttled the gas a bit to see if the cooling system was working, and smiled from ear to ear when nothing blew up, smoked, or backfired.

All I had left to do was fix the cosmetic issues.