Page 6 of Fifty-Fifty

“Are you fu––”

Mr. Jenkins raises his hands to prevent an all-out war between us. “Mr. Jamison, it appears that you seem to have a grievance toward the current situation. Why don’t you calmly explain your side, and we’ll both,” he looks pointedly at Beau, “listen carefully.”

Both sets of eyes turn to me, waiting for me to air my grievances.

I lean forward in my chair and rest my elbows against the desk in front of me, trying to control my temper. “I was under the impression that we’d be splitting the net income of the bed and breakfast every month and that Beau,” I spit her name, “would be sending me a check—”

“And I did!” she interrupts me.

I roll my eyes. “You sent me a check for three hundred and fifty-two dollars.”

She nods. “And thirty-nine cents. I held up my end of the bargain.”

I quirk my brow. “So you’re telling me that’s half of the income that the inn made last month?”

She has the decency to look sheepish. “It’s been a rough few months.”

“Rough few months?” I scoff. “I would say so. No one can live off that kind of money. How the hell do you survive?”

She goes to argue, but I cut her off, “Oh, wait. You live rent free and can use all of your food receipts as write-offs for the company. Hell, you could probably get away with your clothing as a write-off, too. Is that what you’ve been doing? Spending all the revenue on yourself and your kid? I bet you don’t even know who the father is, do you?”

She gasps in shock, when Mr. Jenkins steps in. “Now, now. Let’s keep this civil. I understand you’re frustrated, Mr. Jamison, but if I hear one more comment like that, then I’ll have to ask you to leave. I can personally attest for Ms. Williams’ honesty on this particular matter. We’ve been spending a little time going over the finances and making sure we’ve got everything handled. As she mentioned before, it’s been a rough couple of months because of your granddaddy’s passing. It’s taken a little longer than Beau anticipated to get back on her feet with all the added responsibilities. It ain’t easy running a bed and breakfast by yourself.”

“And that’s why I suggest we sell it,” I offer dryly while trying, and failing, to restrain myself from raising my voice.

Beau pulls her lips into a thin white line at my suggestion. “I ain’t sellin’ your granddaddy’s property. It was his pride and joy. I wouldn’t do that to him. And frankly, I find it a bit sickenin’ that you would even consider it. But then I remember that you didn’t know him at all, now did ya?”

My nostrils flare. “Look. Whatever you’re insinuating when it comes to my relationship with my grandpa, you have no clue what you’re talking about.”

She opens her mouth to argue when Mr. Jenkins interjects. Again. Apparently déjà vu is a common occurrence in this podunk town. “Now listen here. Y'all have been very accommodatin’ with each other so far, and I think it’d be best if we kept it that way.”

Beau huffs before folding her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair. “Well, I don’t see how we’ll be very accommodatin’ when neither of us can see eye to eye. Did Jay put in his will what would happen if we didn’t agree?”

Finally! A useful comment from that infuriating woman.

Mr. Jenkins nods his head while pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. “Yes. I believe it’s in here somewhere.” He begins to shuffle around a few pieces of paper on his desk. Beau’s attention shifts to me, giving me the side-eye before turning her attention back to Mr. Jenkins’ search as soon as our gazes connect.

I lick my lips and shift in my chair.

“Ah, yes. It looks like if you can’t come to an agreement, then y'all will forfeit your right to the will and all proceeds will go to the local charity.” He looks up from the paperwork, his eyes bouncing between Beau and me. “Understand?”

Once again, my attention shifts to the sexy stranger who’s a pain in my ass. She’s too busy chewing on her lower lip to notice my heated perusal. Her cheeks have lost a bit of their color, and I can only assume it’s because the inheritance means something to her. Just like it means something to me.

She needs the money. And so do I. If only she weren’t so damn stubborn.

“I don’t understand. I mean, I do, but we ain’t gonna agree, either,” Beau says, grabbing my attention all over again.

“Then I’m sorry, Beau, but you won’t be gettin’ a dime,” Mr. Jenkins reiterates in an apologetic tone.

She sighs. “I ain’t sellin’ Jay’s place for profit, and that’s final. It’s the last thing he’d want. That inn was his… his everything.”

“Well, it looks like we’re in a pretty shitty position, then. I need the money now. And whatever the hell you’ve been doing at that place isn’t bringing it in fast enough for me to close on an opportunity.”

She scoffs at my insinuation. “I’m sorry, whatever the hell I’ve been doin’? Who do you think you are? You have no idea what goes into that place and how much I’ve been jugglin’ to keep it afloat. How dare you accuse me of sittin’ on my ass and skimmin’ money off the top. If your granddaddy could see you right now, he’d be ashamed to call you his grandson.” Her eyes are practically glowing with fire, and I have to restrain myself from returning her verbal assault with some of my own.

“Now, now.” Mr. Jenkins holds his hands up in surrender, even though he wasn’t the one being attacked. “Why don’t I give y'all a few days to come to an agreement, then we can go from there. It might be a good idea for y'all to step away and think things through. We’ll meet again in a few weeks. That all right with you two?”

I look at Beau and find her already assessing me, searching for my intention, though she already knows it. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? She knows what I want, and she doesn’t give a damn.

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