Page 59 of The Kiss Keeper
“You’re in real estate, right?” the man pressed, then gestured for them to start walking.
Dammit!
Hal chuckled. “It’s not a bad thing, Jake. I heard it through the Woolwich grapevine. You must have mentioned it at breakfast.”
Jake’s gaze dropped to the ground. “I didn’t think anyone was listening.”
Hal glanced at him. “You’re the newcomer, Natalie’s Jake. Everyone is interested.”
Natalie’s Jake.
What would this man think if he learned he wasn’t? But he couldn’t go there. He’d cross that bridge when he had to—after the deal was done. Now, he had to brush all thoughts of Natalie Callahan aside and transition into sales mode.
He schooled his features. “That’s right. I work in commercial real estate.”
“What do you think of our little slice of Maine?” Hal asked, gesturing to the coastline.
“I think you’re in possession of some valuable real estate,” he answered, relaxing into the song and dance of talking shop.
Hal nodded. “Do you have a number in your head?”
Jake stilled. That caught him off guard.
“Off the top of my head?” he asked, doing his best to hide the surprise in his voice.
“Sure,” Hal answered, crossing his arms as if they were simply discussing the price of a carton of eggs and not the value of the man’s life’s work.
“Ten, maybe fifteen,” he replied, pretending to come up with a number.
The dance had begun, and he always started low.
Hal raised an eyebrow. “Ten or fifteen million?”
Jake nodded. “With the cove and access to the ocean, not to mention the wildlife preserve, I’d say that your land is worth a substantial amount of money.”
“Hmm,” the man hummed, staring across the cove and giving him the New Englander non-answer.
“Are you considering any alternative plans for the land?” he asked, choosing his words carefully. There was an art to closing a deal, and that started with planting the seed. In the end, if he’d done his job right, Hal and Bev would believe that they were the ones who came up with the idea to sell.
“We’ve had forty-three Woolwich weddings here over the years. Lara and Leslie were the only two who chose to get married somewhere else.” He gestured to the water. “I taught my children and grandchildren how to fish right off that dock, and Natalie sailed to Woolwich Island all by herself in that very Sunfish when she was twelve years old.”
Jake stared at the small sailboat and swallowed back memories of sailing with his parents. He’d lean over the side and drag his fingers along the glassy surface of Lake Michigan as they set a course to the Beaver Islands or over to Fish Creek. But just as the thought materialized, years of compartmentalizing allowed him to tuck it away.
That carefree boy had died along with his parents.
He kept his features neutral. “I’m sure this place holds many memories for you.”
Hal’s lips twisted into a knowing half grin. “I’m sensing a but.”
This man was no fool.
“But things change. Priorities change,” he offered.
“Is that how you see it?” Hal pressed.
How did he see it?
Before Natalie Callahan crashed into his life, he believed that wholeheartedly. There were no constants in this world, and the only person he could count on was himself. Never get sentimental—and don’t become attached to a place, even somewhere as magical as this. But now, he didn’t see dollar signs when he gazed out at the water. He saw eyes. Natalie’s eyes. Green and sparkling. People always talk about the ocean blue, but here, gazing out to where the ocean spanned across the horizon, he was met with an endless watery blanket of deep green.
