Page 21 of Fifty-Fifty

Popping off the cap, I head to the wraparound porch and take a seat on the swing, looking out at the small street and picturesque maple trees with red and brown leaves.

I’m surprised when the front door squeaks open, notifying me of company. When Beau’s tired face comes into view, I can’t hide my shock.

“Mind if I join ya?” she asks, her tone hesitant.

I shake my head. “Not at all.”

Beau takes a few steps closer, sitting on the edge of the swing beside me while leaving plenty of room between us.

Just like earlier today on the couch.

“Thank you for today,” she starts.

I lift the bottle to my mouth, pausing before it can touch my lips. “Don’t mention it.” I take a swig as she watches me from the corner of her eye. It doesn’t take a genius to see the heat in her stare, but I decide to be the gentleman she discussed with Bridget from earlier today instead of calling her out on it.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you fix the roof?”

I raise my brows in surprise, not expecting that question. “Uh… because it needed to be fixed?”

She shakes her head, not accepting my answer. “Why’d you help with Mac today?”

I sigh. “Because it looked like your hands were full.”

She turns toward me. “My hands are always full, Noah. That ain’t an answer. You want to sell this place. You want to leave. Hell, you likely wish I’d never been born with all the trouble I’m causin’ you. So, why are you here?” She punctuates each word with a sharp tongue, drawing my attention to her mouth and those damn ruby red lips.

I take another drink of my beer, stalling for time while debating how I should answer. She watches me like a hawk as I swallow the cool liquid.

“I feel like shit, okay? I can see how much this place means to you, and I can see you’re drowning here. I just, I wanted to help. Even if it was in the littlest way possible,” I confess. “After our talk, it’s easy to see how much you care about this place.”

“So?”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean, so?”

“So, I love this place. You’re right. Don’t mean you have to help me fix it.”

“Ok, let’s be honest with each other, all right?”

She nods.

“I don’t think this place is busy enough to bring in any kind of long-term income. I honestly don’t know how my grandpa was able to live here and pay off the building in the first place. But I also don’t want to miss out by not giving it a real shot if you think it’s worth it. So, I’m going to ask you, Beau. Do you think this place has the potential to bring in the money I need?”

Beau licks her lips, her eyes going glassy while turning away from me and staring into the distance as she considers my question. I give her the time she needs to run the numbers in her head, to come to the realization of what’s possible and what isn’t.

After a minute, she reaches for the ice cold beer in my hand and brings it to her lips. She takes a long sip before turning her attention back to me. “How much time will you give me?”

I pull my lips into a thin line before saying, “I have one month to come up with fifty thousand.”

Her jaw drops. “That ain’t possible. Not even if we sell the place.”

I nod. “Yeah. I know. Which means I need to have a little chat with Slater. In all reality, I still need a decision made in thirty days, even if the cash isn’t available. I need something to prove to him that I’m the real deal, and that I’m not wasting his time.”

She sighs, considering her options. “All right, then. Thirty days. You’ll give me that long to prove the potential of keepin’ the business up and runnin’, if I don’t prove its worth by the end of thirty days, then we sell the place. Is that what you’re sayin’?”

I grip the back of my neck before squeezing it tightly. “Yeah. I think that about sums it up.”

---