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Well Built

Page 6

   


“Now that’s the two-hundred-and-twenty-five-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it?” Claire drummed her pink-painted fingernails on the arm of the chair, her expression thoughtful. “Bottom line, you want answers, and there’s only one person who can give them to you. So why don’t you go and get them?”
Ella frowned at her friend. “What do you mean?”
“Go right to the source,” Claire said with a shrug. “In this case, that would be Kyle.”
Go and confront Kyle? Claire’s idea was insane, and Ella quickly shook her head. “I don’t know how to get ahold of him. Where he lives or even the name of his company.”
A slow, mischievous smile curved the corners of Claire’s lips, making Ella immediately wary. “Well, you could head over to the Family Diner and ask his mother those questions, but since I know you’d never do that, let’s see what good ol’ Google has to say about a Kyle Coleman who lives and works in Chicago.”
Before Ella realized what her friend meant to do, Claire leaned across the desk and grabbed her cell phone. Ella quickly scrambled to retrieve it, but Claire sat back in her chair, out of arm’s reach.
“Hey, give me my phone back,” Ella demanded.
“In a sec.” Claire’s fingers tapped across the keyboard on the screen, and a moment later she glanced up at Ella with a triumphant grin. “Well, would you look at this,” she said in an irritatingly sweet drawl as she read the information she’d found. “Kyle Coleman. Redeveloper at Premier Realty. And there’s a phone number and a street address to his office.” She batted her lashes in feigned shock. “Who would have thought that he’d be listed on the Internet and so easy to find in this day and age?”
“You’re such a smartass,” Ella grumbled, though she was smiling.
“It’s why you love me.” Claire’s green eyes sparkled with humor. “You work too hard, you’re way too serious, and I keep things lively around here.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever.”
Ella rolled her eyes, but the truth was, if it wasn’t for Claire, she’d probably have no real after-hours social life, and she wouldn’t laugh nearly as much as she did when she was around her best friend. Yes, she worked ten- to twelve-hour days and rarely took time off, and that’s pretty much how it had been since she’d taken on the responsibility of managing the market after her father’s stroke ten years ago. It had been the right thing to do because of his limitations, even if it had meant giving up her plans to go to college.
Between her and her self-centered, flighty sister, Gwen, Ella had always been the dependable one in the family, despite the fact that they were “Irish twins,” with Gwen being older by only ten months. Ella was the one who never colored outside the lines and always stepped up to take care of everyone else’s needs before her own. After their mother had passed away, she’d been the one to take on the task of cooking dinner every night, even though she’d only been thirteen at the time. She’d made sure her father’s clothes were laundered, that the house was picked up, and tried to keep her sister out of trouble so their father didn’t have to deal with Gwen’s numerous acts of teenage rebellion.
So yes, Ella had been the quintessential good girl—the one caveat to that being going against her father’s demand to stay away from Kyle Coleman during her senior year in high school. And in the end, what did she get for her one act of defiance? She’d been left with a shattered heart and her family’s life in an emotional upheaval. Although the upheaval had been more the fault of Gwen’s actions than her own, Ella had been left to deal with the fallout.
“Holy smokes,” Claire said in awe as she turned her phone toward Ella to show her the photo she’d found on the Premier Realty website. “Damn, Kyle Coleman is gorgeous. And hot. And built like a brick house, compared to how lean he was in high school.”
Ella wasn’t about to admit that she’d already spent part of last night obsessing over that good-looking face, those dark brown eyes, and the impressive muscles he’d developed over the years.
Claire swiped a few things on the face of the phone before giving it back to Ella. The photo was gone, and now on display was the address and phone number of Premier Realty highlighted for her to see.
She chewed her lower lip uncertainly before she met her friend’s gaze from across the desk. “So, you think I should call him?”
“No. That’s too easy and not bold enough,” Claire said, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “I think you should go to his office and look him in the eye when you ask him what you want to know. Maybe you could even offer him a bit more for the building to buy it from him. You didn’t have the cash on hand yesterday, but you know you could get a bank loan for the difference.”
The store’s credit was solid, their bills paid in full every month, and she was certain that she could get an increase on their line of credit for the investment back into the business. She definitely wanted the building that much, but what if she went to Kyle and he refused any offer she made? He’d outbid her yesterday without flinching at the cost, so what made her think he’d give up the property so easily now?
“I don’t know,” she said, hating the defeated way she sounded.
“That’s just it. You don’t know until you try,” Claire refuted in that confident, reasonable way of hers. “What if he’s willing to take a bit of a profit, hand over the building, and walk away? You’ll never know unless you make the offer, and if you don’t do this, you’ll always wonder what if.”
Claire’s advice, as always, was sound and logical. “Okay,” she agreed, but only to part of her friend’s suggestion. “I’ll call him.” It was a compromise.
Claire narrowed her gaze. “No calling. You need to do this in person, face-to-face. The element of surprise will throw him off-balance, just like he did to you yesterday. That could work in your favor.”
It was hard for Ella to imagine that anything would throw Kyle off his game, but there was another more important reason she hesitated to jump on Claire’s idea. “You know I hate going into the city.” Actually, hate was a mild word for how she felt about Chicago. Loathed was more like it.
Chicago was only an hour’s drive away, without any traffic, but the half dozen or so times that she’d gone into the city, she’d nearly had a legitimate anxiety attack. There were too many people around and all in one place, and the blend of sirens wailing, vehicles honking, and subways rumbling beneath her feet had been sensory overload when she was so used to her peaceful small town. Everything was too fast-paced, too overpopulated, and she’d been overwhelmed by all the tall buildings surrounding her. She always felt too closed in, like a panicked mouse in a maze with no way out.