Page 61 of Smokescreen (Knight & Daywalker)
He was offering even more than the sweatshop people.
If Davin had been there, I suspected he’d be saying that this company were also sweatshop people.
The moment encapsulated what was wrong with this entire experience for me.
It wasn’t simply normal for me to be considering someone like this over Arthur and Amelia. It was the fact that under normal circumstances, someone in my position wouldn’t be considering anyone but people like this. Wouldn’t give a damn that the twins had so much potential, or that they seemed to be good people—the kind who sent an unwell neighbor food and tea and the best chocolate in the world.
Why care about that when this big company was backing a dump truck full of money up to my door?
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “The space has already been leased.”
A noise to my left grabbed my attention, and I realized the front door of the shop had opened again, to admit Arthur, who was looking positively heartbroken. At least I was wearing ashirt this time. So I smiled at him, trying to be as reassuring as possible.
And also beg him with my eyes not to call my bluff when I said what I was going to say next.
“By this guy, in fact,” I told the man. “And his sister. So I’m sorry for wasting your time, but there’s nothing I can do.”
The guy gave Arthur a dubious twice over, then looked back at me, shrugging. “Keep my card. When they default on payments, I can make the offer again.”
What the fuck? Why would anyone assume a complete stranger would default on his rent? Just because Arthur was wearing regular pants and a simple pale blue button-down, rather than Armani? Fuck that.
Twist, where she had been curled up on the front of my desk in her sunny patch, lifted her head and growled at him, clearly reacting to my displeasure. “Want me to bite him?” she asked, and I was incredibly tempted to say yes.
Instead, I scratched her ears, apologized again for wasting his time, and walked him to the door. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why he wasn’t more annoyed with me, given what was essentially a confession that I’d let him give half his spiel when I’d already rented the place to someone else.
“Needed to get rid of him?” Arthur asked, hesitant, when the man was finally gone.
I sighed as I leaned on the closed front door for a second, turned toward Arthur, took a deep breath, and dove in. “Yes, but also no. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that offer was fucking ridiculous, but I don’t know if the world needs another thousand dollar handbag store.”
He blinked, so I showed him the guy’s card and his eyes went wide.
Before he could open his mouth again, I waved it off. “Anyway, Davin made a suggestion this morning after you left,and I thought it was worth exploring with you. If we make out a lease and you pay me say, ten or fifteen percent of your profit instead of a specific rent, then it’ll let you get through the first few rough months, and make a real go of this without having to scrape together every penny to give to me straight away.”
He stared at me, blue eyes wide and hands wrapped around the back of the chair facing my desk. After a second, I realized he was trembling. Damn, given the British reputation with the whole stiff upper lip thing, he must be really overwhelmed. “You...Do you truly think that’s worth your time? Your space? I can’t even imagine how much money that man was offering you.”
“Ican’t even imagine how much money he was offering me. He was prepared to throw away like a hundred grand just on renovations. Thing is, the first thing I thought when he said that, was if we renovated the kitchen out, then you and Amelia couldn’t use the space. And I’m way more interested in you guys than a purse store.”
“They sell a lot more than purses,” he offered weakly.
“Sure, and you and your sister are going to sell way more than tea and scones, even though those alone would be amazing.”
“Free food,” he blurted out. “We’ll feed you as well. I—I can’t think of what else we could?—”
“Dude, that’s amazing, because you and your sister are amazing and I want that food, but you don’t need to look for anything else to give me. I want you in the building. Gimme just a second.” I turned again and went back to the door, poking my head out.
Grady was laying on the beach out front in the morning sun, like he could possibly need a tan when nature had given him naturally golden brown skin. Maybe he was just trying to get his deep brown locs to bleach a little lighter in the sun. He spent somuch time outside that he looked like he had the world’s best salon highlights in them already.
“Hey G, could you help me with something?”
He turned his head upward, meeting my eye then offering a bright smile as he rolled over and hopped to his feet. “Sure thing Flynn. How’s it going?”
“Oh you know how it is. Another day, another disaster.”
He laughed, his voice low and smooth, as he followed me into the office.
“Grady, this is Arthur Agincourt. He and his sister are going to lease the space next door.” I turned to Arthur. “Arthur, this is Grady Archer. He rents out his surfboards and gives surfing lessons out there on the beach. That’s...not going to be a problem for you two, right?”
Arthur gave me a confused squint. “Why would that be a problem? I”—he glanced at the floor, shyly biting his lip—“I don’t suppose you could teach me to surf. I, that is”—instead of finishing the sentence, he reached down and tugged up the leg of his pants, showing that his left leg was prosthetic.
