Page 62 of Love to Prove You Wrong

“Remember how I was in here last year to talk about a business loan?” I asked. “Well, I finally have the required deposit.”

Sally pushed her glasses toward the top of her nose. “Right. A loan to buy the Bensons’ land. For a petting zoo, if I’m correct?”

I beamed. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Perfect,” she said, opening a document on her computer. “Did you already put in an official offer with Mr. Benson?”

“Not really. I mean, he knows I’m willing to pay the asking price and I know that there aren’t any other interested buyers.”

She pushed her chair back to retrieve some papers from the printer. “Okay, what we could do right now is simulate the specifics of the loan. As soon as you’ve got a signed agreement with Mr. Benson, we can make it official.”

“Great,” I said. “Let’s do that.”

I answered all of Sally’s questions, and gave her my accountant reports, cash flow statements, and other details she needed to know.

“Everything looks good on my side,” she said. “You have a great credit score and the fact that you can finance twenty-five percent of this acquisition with your own funds will definitely elevate your chances of approval. I think all that’s left for you to do now is call Mr. Benson and tell him the news that you’re ready to buy.”

I wanted to jump up and hug her. This was fantastic news. “How long will it take for the loan to be approved?”

She tapped her chin with her finger. “I’d say three to six days after you’ve signed the papers with Mr. Benson.”

“Thank you, Sally,” I said. “I’ll get right onto that.”

When I left the bank, I couldn’t stop smiling. I walked back to my car with a skip in my step and decided to drive straight to Mr. Benson’s house to finalize the sale. We’d talked about me buying the land so many times, it was like a done deal.

I picked up a bottle of celebratory champagne on the way there and texted Justin that I had a surprise forhim.

Gosh, I hoped Mr. Benson was home. Now that I finally had the finances to go through with this sale, I didn’t want to wait a minute longer to make it official.

I rang the doorbell twice, but there was no answer. I decided to go around back, as he was probably working in his garden and couldn’t hear the doorbell.

“Yoo-hoo, Mr. Benson,” I called out while rounding the house.

I didn’t want to scare him to death by suddenly appearing in his line of vision. I also didn’t want to risk finding him sitting in his backyard with no clothes on. You could never be too careful with situations like these. When I was fourteen, I had accidentally witnessed my neighbor doing a naked dance with his garden hose. The image got imprinted into my memory forever, and him asking my mother to water his plants while he was on vacation never sounded the same again.

“Helloooo,” I tried again.

I put a hand above my eyes to shield them from the sun. My shoulders fell. He wasn’t here after all. Today wouldn’t be the day.

But then he jumped out from behind a bush he was trimming, shears in his hands.

“Oh, hello, Addison.”

“Mr. Benson, how are you?” I asked, barely able to contain my excitement.

He fiddled with his garden shears. “Yes, you know, I’m… uh… good.”

My brows pinched together. What had he been doing behind that bush with those shears? I let my gaze wander to the blades, half expecting to see blood dripping from them.

“Am I catching you at a bad time?” I asked.

“Oh, no, it’s not that,” he said, waving the shears around in the air. I took a step back. “Why don’t we have a drink and talk?”

“Sure, that sounds good,” I said.

He put the sharp tool down and I let out a breath of relief. I knew deep down that he would never hurt me, but he was old, and what if he had Alzheimer’s, thinking I was a trespasser he needed to attack with his shears?

I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. Mr. Benson was harmless, and only sixty-three. His mind was as clear as daylight on a summer’s afternoon.

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