Page 93 of Dream Mates
Brennan
Isat in my office, going over spreadsheets on my laptop, doing the math. Again. A sigh escaped my lips. Why wouldn’t the numbers magically bend to my will?
Of course, I knew very well that wasn’t how accounting worked.
Terrance knocked on my open door. “Bren?”
“Come in.” I sighed again.
“That good?” Terrance took a seat in the chair across from my desk. “While I trust you, and know you’re a visionary, are we really going to take the financial risk of historically renovating that old estate?”
“We specialize in unique properties. What would be more special than being transported to the era of Tea-Time Britain? I’m not saying the guests would have to dress the part–or even the staff, but think of the possibilities?” I suggested, seeing the entire thing in my head.
Grace had made me watch a movie on her laptop about the immersive resort, and while I wasn’t completely sold on the idea, I’d gotten some good ideas.
His fingers tapped on his chin. “True. But the cost.”
“Considering it’s a historical property, and we have to meet certain criteria anyway, it’s not that much higher. Reg and his crew will only be able to do so much, we might have to bring in specialists,” I told him, checking the numbers again.
“All I hear is the sound of money leaving.” His look wasn’t completely serious. “Are you sure we can’t negotiate with the historical office?”
I sucked in a breath. “I pissed off my mother. Now the historical office is on my ass, and they’ve changed the rules. I’m guessing there’s a correlation.”
When we’d voted at family dinner a couple of days ago, I hadn’t counted on her making war on the business front.
“Is this over whatever happened at the gala?” He frowned. “After you left with Grace she was grumpy for the rest of the presentation.”
“That and I fired the housekeeper she made me hire.” I sighed.
You’d think I’d done something horrible by the way my mother reacted to that.
“Though honestly, this is on us,” I added. “We were checking with our county’s office. Turns out, it’s registered in both thisand the next county because when it was built the lines were different.”
“Shit.” Terrance rubbed his bald head.
“It won’t be that bad. I’ll send it to you along with the proposals we’re getting from restoration specialists.”
“Are you okay?” Terrance got up, shut my door, and sat back down. He knew exactly what my mother was capable of, having been there for me–and the company–after my car accident.
“I think I’m about to start a war with my mother. Short version–she’s stopping the funding for all the scholarships the foundation gives omegas.” I glanced back at the numbers on my laptop.
He whistled. “That’s low.”
“It is. My pack is starting a foundation of our own to cover the gaps. I actually have to go over to Compass BioTek so Spencer and I can meet with the lawyer.” Which is why I’d been crunching numbers.
“Honestly, that sounds like a good call–but maybe have better galas?” he joked, having been to plenty of my mother’s.
“We now own an event venue.” I grinned.
He chuckled. “That we do.”
“Things could get bad. She has a lot of contacts in this town.” I winced at the potential fallout. Those who went up against her seldom won.
“We’re not in our twenties anymore. If she starts messing with our business, we’ll fight back,” he assured. “Also, very little of our business is here–and while people know who she is here, most of the places we operate don’t know or care about her.”
“True.” Sometimes I forgot that.
I thought for a moment. “We need to go overeverythingand make sure it’s tight so there are no more oversights like this one with the historical office. We also need to lock down communications and be very careful. Wes will help us.”
