Page 4 of Saving You Losing Me

He greets us, wiping his hands against an oily rag, and jerks his head in the direction of his small untidy office.

“You wanna talk business?”

I nod.

“Yes sir.”

I’m polite to people who deserve it and Bobby deserves it in spades. He’s well known in town and admired and respected and deserves a good price to see him through retirement.

We crowd into his small office and he parks his butt in the dog-eared chair and shakes his head.

“This is akin to ripping out my heart, but Martha is insisting we retire and enjoy what life we have left.”

A moment’s pity washes over me because it’s obvious he’s a reluctant seller and I don’t blame him. This place is his life and it must be painful to acknowledge that is ending and I smile respectfully.

“We intend to carry on your business, Bobby. Unlike many other hopefuls, we don’t want to change that.”

He nods with a grunt of appreciation.

“I had several offers from companies who want to tear this place down and build homes. That will happen over my dead body.”

He sighs heavily. “If you can meet the price, the place is yours subject to contracts. You pay my fees and it’s yours in the time it takes for the lawyers to get their asses in gear and do the necessary.”

As he slips the paper toward me, my heart shifts because this moment is monumental. This is when our future and his past collide and the moment deserves respect.

I unfurl the paper and stare at the figure before me and hold my breath.

“May I borrow a pen?”

He slides his pen across the battered desk and there is silence as I draw a line through the figure and write my counter offer.

Razor shifts beside me and I wonder if he’s stopped breathing too, because the tension in the room is so thick we could all collectively choke on it.

Bobby peers at the figure I have written and stares at me in disbelief.

“Is this a joke?”

“Am I laughing?” I reply gruffly, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t understand?”

“Take it or leave it” I shrug and his eyes fill with tears as he nods slowly, casting a look around the small office at the memories crowded in the uncomfortable space.

It’s a moment that deserves respect as the old man wipes his eyes and his fingers tremble, the pen catching on the desk as it rests between his fingers.

“I don’t understand.”

He sniffs and I say gently, “This is your life, Bobby. It’s the result of all your hard work and years of care and attention. Not only that, it’s your home and to place a price on that is impossible and I happen to believe you undervalued it. It’s worth more than the figure I replaced yours with, but it’s all I can afford. Take it or leave it. I will respect your decision.”

He smiles and extends his arm across the desk, his gnarly hand offered to me as he says huskily, “Thank you. I accept your offer.”

As my hand closes around his, gratitude shines from his eyes because the figure I replaced his with is far greater. It’s still less than my inheritance, but a fair offer for a place that will become The Dark Angel’s home and afford Bobby and his wife a retirement they weren’t expecting.

A fair price indeed because I may be a bastard in many ways, but I’m an honorable man underneath the hard exterior. Men like Bobby Fitzgerald don’t catch many breaks in life and I am honoured to be the provider of one of them.

CHAPTER 3

CLARA

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