Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
"My name is Lincoln Hanover. I came to speak to the owner."
His name is familiar, though I'm not sure why. Definitely not because my brother is also named Lincoln. My brother isn't judgmental. He's amazing, and gay. Maybe this Lincoln's name is on a billboard or something. I flash him a bright, saccharine smile. "Congratulations. You've found her."
He blinks at me like I managed to catch him off guard. "You're the owner?"
"Yes." I narrow my eyes at him, even more annoyed by his tone now. It's so…insulting. "Refer back to the equal rights statement I made earlier. I'm sure you'll find it enlightening about what women can and can't do in the twenty-first century. You know we're even allowed to open our own bank accounts now?"
He growls at me, actually growls. For some reason, the sound makes me smile, an actual smile this time. He is so annoyed. Good. That makes two of us.
Did he come here just to insult me and my store?
"I'm well aware of the 19th Amendment," he says. "It may surprise you to know that I'm even aware that women marched and lobbied for their rights."
I hit him with a slow clap, which makes Jazz snort laughter from behind the counter. Sarah is nowhere to be seen, probably hiding in the back.
He eyes me like he's thinking about bending me over and spanking me. Huh. I bet he'd be less annoying with his hand on my ass.
"Good for you," I mutter. "You know history. Now, how can I help you?"
To my surprise, he doesn't answer right away. Instead, he just stares at me for a long moment, his gaze flickering between annoyance and something else. It could be amusement. Maybe it's curiosity. I'm not sure. And then he mutters a curse under his breath and reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a neatly folded sheaf of papers. He holds them out toward me.
"What is this?"
"Notice that I intend to buy your building."
"What?" I blink at him, caught off guard.
"I've made an offer to your landlord. Since you have the right of first refusal, he requires that you be notified of my intent to purchase so you can make a counteroffer." Lincoln smirks at me. "This contains the details of my offer."
My mind spins, trying to catch up with what he's saying. He's trying to buy my building? What the fuck? Gary promised to let me buy it as soon as I could safely afford it. He swore he wouldn't put it on the market until I was ready!
"You're the real estate developer," I blurt, realization dawning a little too late. Of course his name is familiar. He's been buying up buildings all over downtown, promising to revitalize and modernize the area, as if new somehow magically means better. Maybe that's true for iPhones and televisions, but buildings are different. Old ones like this have charm and stories that newer constructions lack.
"You aren't buying my building," I growl, ready to strangle him. Hell will freeze over before I let him buy it and turn it into condos or a Starbucks or whatever the hell he thinks progress looks like. This building has been a bookstore, damn near since it was built in the 1930s.
"I'm afraid I am," he says, his tone almost…gentle. "Unless you can come up with two and a half million in the next thirty days."
"Two and a half what?" Jazz practically shrieks.
I echo her sentiments, if not her tone. That's almost double the figure Gary gave me when we discussed me buying the building!
"Two and a half million," Lincoln says, his gaze flickering from me to her and then back.
I snatch the papers from his hand like a feral woman, my heart thudding against my ribcage as I skim through the document. He isn't joking. His company has put in a two-point-five-million-dollar offer on the building. Unless I can match or beat it, he's going to buy my building.
That cracking sound? Yeah, that's my dream, shattering at my feet.
I don't have two and a half million. I don't even have the million that Gary wanted initially. Moving, decorating, building a café, and buying stock cost money. So does hiring help. A lot of money, actually.
I'm going to be sick.
My hands shake as I crumple the papers, glaring daggers at him. "You aren't buying my store."
"I am."
"I'll chain myself to the building before I let you and your soulless, money-grubbing company buy it," I vow, meaning every word. If he wants to bulldoze my dream, he'll have to take me with it because I'm not letting him win. Hell no.
The way he smiles at me makes my blood boil. It also makes my clit twitch, but that's beside the point.
"You have thirty days, sweetness. If you haven't made an offer by then, the building is mine. Chains or no chains."