Page 8 of A Little More Forgiveness

Sanchez was a whole different story. Just knowing he’d set foot in my home made my blood boil. He was probably prowling around the house right now, cataloguing everything he’d already seen. Likely deciding the place wasn’t worth the time and effort to renovate, and the best thing would be to bulldoze the whole cabin and barns and start over. Well, think again buddy, as no way would I be giving up on my life for him to build his pathetic resort or whatever, and if he had any intentions otherwise, he could go take a hike.

God, I needed some air and time alone to figure out a viable plan and put it into action, so I didn’t end up going batshit crazy. Once more shoving my feet into my work boots and grabbing my winter coat, I walked through the sitting room, ignored them both as they lounged on the couch, whistled for the dogs, and made a swift exit.

The lawyer opened the door behind me, but I ignored his calling my name and headed behind the cabin and the path down to the lake. The clouds were an ominous dark gray but at least the heavy snow had abated for the moment, the flakes lighter as they settled on my jacket and along the dogs’ backs. I walked until the cabin disappeared in the haze and I finally managed to take in a fortifying breath. The freezing cold air entering my lungs created pinpricks of pain in my throat every time I inhaled. Still not far enough away to release all my frustration, I continued on, making my way down the path to the lake, hoping the calmness I’d find there would help settle me.

I lost all track of time when I was out here on my land. The cabin is a few miles outside of town, but may as well have been a world away, the space so empty and devoid of people. The only other prints in the snow belonged to the many wild animals inhabiting the land alongside me. As I took in my surroundings, my mind boggled as to why anyone would want to tarnish this pristine environment by building some monstrosity of a resort.

I’d do everything in my power to prevent them going through with their plans, no matter what.

The sky had darkened considerably when I returned after a couple hours, the evening drawing in and the first stars peeking through tiny breaks in the clouds. Calmer now, and determined to hold onto the feeling, I made a quick detour to feed and settle the horses for the night, before making my way to the cabin, my cabin, the dogs at my side, to face whatever difficulties I’d find inside.

Chapter Four

Gabe

Stretched out on the surprisingly comfortable couch, considering the age of it, I’d grown bored waiting for Mitchell Houghton to come out of the bedroom he’d holed up in for the last half an hour or so. There’d been heated conversations as he presumably tried to find any viable way to get us off the property.

Didn’t sound like his discussions were going too well from where I sat.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he emerged from the bedroom, his face a mask of fury as he stomped past the sofa, ignoring us completely, and headed straight out the front door.

Leo made to go after him, but his attempt was a pointless exercise.

“He didn’t hear me.”

“Didn’t want to, more like.”

“And whose fault is that?”

I tried for the affronted look but knew I hadn’t pulled it off.

“And you can stop with the bullshit comments while you’re at it.” He shook his head. “Christ, you’re exactly like my stepfather.”

I frowned, unsure of what he meant by the remark but guessed he wasn’t handing me a compliment. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sitting up, eyes narrowed, I completely focused on him. He’d taken off his coat and his suit jacket, both of which were now folded neatly over the arm of the leather wingback near the fire, then stood, staring out the window, waiting for Houghton to return.

Turning to face me, his steady gaze unwavering, he said, “It means, this is all a game to you. You spin whatever crap makes you look good and don’t give a shit about the effect your deceit has on anyone else.”

“Now wait a goddamn minute.”

“How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

He gave me a hard stare and waited me out. What the hell was wrong with me today? I’m the one who liked the silence, would use it to my advantage, had proved so when in Leo’s office. He’d been the one to break then, so how did he learn so quickly to use my trick against me?

“Fine,” I gritted out. “We’ve been talking to him for a while. He signed a couple weeks ago.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me, so I’d be more prepared for today’s meeting?”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You work for the seller, do you not?” he nodded. I spread my hands. “So why would I give you a vital piece of information and lose my advantage in the sale negotiations? You’re the lawyer here, so you understand how this works, how business works. Besides, I expected Jared Houghton to have clued his brother in on his intensions. It’s hardly my fault if he hasn’t.”

He left the window and flopped onto the sofa beside me, causing a pang of guilt to trickle through my veins. I hadn’t meant to pull out the ace card so early, if at all. I’d hoped to have an intelligent conversation with them both and get Mitchell to sell without ever having to. Try to make him see how beneficial our offer was, without the added threat of me revealing our company already owned half of it.

And what on earth had happened between him and his brother anyway? Why hadn’t Jared Houghton told him he’d sold his share of the property, or he planned to? The news was bound to come out at some point. Plus, he sure as hell knew how volatile his brother was. Perhaps he’d been so scared of the reaction he’d have gotten he didn’t want to tell him. Even so, a text or email, or something to give the guy a heads-up might well have prevented the disaster happening earlier today.

The disbelief on Mitchell Houghton’s face and the following pain cut me deeply, something which never happened. I didn’t do emotion in my business deals. Yet his reaction had been far stronger than I would have expected, given the amount of money he stood to gain. Okay, money wasn't everything, but the way he acted, as if we were trying to rip out his heart and stamp all over it had concerned me, and I’d been trying to work out the reason why ever since.

We’d made him a substantial offer, and he’d be foolish to turn that amount of cash down. Also, from my analysis of the drone footage I’d received, the place needed a lot of repair, maintenance, and upkeep, and it clearly wasn’t happening. But seeing the dilapidated state of the buildings for myself had left me even more confused as to why he remained so reluctant to sell. Something else must be going on, and if I worked out what, I’d adjust my approach, figure out the right angle to get him to see our offer is the best deal he’d ever get. With his appalling attitude to people in general, it’s probably the only deal he’d ever get.

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