Page 11 of Promise Me

“I’m pretty sure she said I could come in, so I will not be thanking anyone but her.”

“Come on, Sadie. You only want this place to piss me off.”

“Oh, please. I know this will come as a surprise, but life does exist outside of Hudson Asher.”

“So why do you want it?”

A throat clears, and we both snap our attention to Mrs. Whittaker, who is standing in front of us with her arms crossed.

“You each get five minutes. Now, Hudson, you can go first since you called me here. What will you do with the space if I sell it to you?”

Hudson is all business as he jumps right to the point.

“Expand the bar. Right now, the locals have to wait more than a half hour most days to eat during the tourist season, and I thought it would be nice to have a place that’s just for the locals to?—”

“You really expect us to believe you’ll turn down a tourist if the only open tables are for the locals?”

“I would. I have this idea that?—”

“You’d turn down money?”

“Sadie …” Hudson’s voice is firm with warning.

With wide eyes, I hold up my hands and let him finish. Basically, he wants to create a haven for the locals. It’s a stupid good idea if he plans to stick to it. All I have formotivation is that I’m ready to move out and want the apartment upstairs.

“Okay, Sadie, it’s your turn,” Mrs. Whittaker says.

I glance at Hudson and then nod to the door.

“No thanks. I think I’ll stay. You got to hear my pitch. I want to hear yours.”

“It doesn’t involve you.”

“It does if she sells to you and your plans become the store next to mine.”

I groan and then turn all my focus to the sweet gray-haired woman in front of us.

“Before my mom died, I wanted to?—”

“No. You can’t use the mom angle.”

I take a slow breath but don’t comment.

“I wanted to open a bookstore. I always thought I would open it in the space where?—”

“A bookstore?” Hudson cuts in. I know he’s doing it because I did it to him, but damn, it pisses me off.

“Stop interrupting me, and let me finish.”

“Like you let me finish?”

“You finished rather quickly, might I add,” I say with a snort.

“Oh, you have quick finish jokes, do you, Sadie? Please, go on. If anything, I always let a woman?—”

“I’ll tell you what,” Mrs. Whittaker says, her hand waving between us. “I’m not going to sell to either of you.”

“What?”

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