Page 54 of Lucky in Love
“Well, that’s actually perfect.” Blossom regained her composure. “That means the money’s not all tied up in the real estate. Which works because I was hoping to borrow a little from my inheritance.”
“Oh, well, it’s not that easy. I used the profits to pay off my house, max out my IRA, and lent the rest to the new owner to help with the down payment.”
“Why would you lend money to the new owner?” Blossom’s brows narrowed. “Who’d be crazy enough to buy them anyway?”
Under the table, Brody grabbed Alex’s hand and squeezed. A warm, comforting gesture that said, no matter how this went down, he was there for her.
“Alex bought them.”
“What?” Blossom screeched so loud that even perpetually unaware Wesley looked up from his phone.
“I didn’t think you wanted ’em. I mean, you’ve said repeatedly that you didn’t. You’ve actually been very adamant about it.”
“I don’t want thecabins.” Blossom huffed. “But I was counting on the money from them.”
“That’s ballsy,” Alex muttered. She knew that’s how Blossom felt, but didn’t think she’d have the gall to say it out loud. In public. In front of someone she’d just met. Alex snuck a peek at Brody. He was fixated on his water glass but noticed her looking and passed her a “yikes” look.
“Blossom,” Pops said patiently. “I never intended for you to have anything to do with the cabins. You’ve shown only contempt for them ever since I bought ’em. Of course Alex was going to take over. She’s been running them for a decade, and it was time. Why would you assume you had any right to the proceeds of something you hated so much, had nothing to do with, and left as soon as you could?”
“I…I…” For once, her mom was speechless.
“You wanted a new life. One that didn’t include us.” Pops shrugged. “When you left Green Valley Falls, you not only left your family, but your stake in the family business. I thought you realized that.”
It only took Blossom a minute to realize she wasn’t getting what she came for. “Let’s go,” she barked at Wesley, who stood obediently. “We never should have come here.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” Pops said. “It was good to see you.”
He was sincere, but Blossom just huffed and waved him off, storming out, with Wesley on her heels.
“Well, that went about as expected.” Pops set his napkin on the table.
“I’m sorry, Pops,” Alex said, taking his hand. “I know it hurts.”
Now that Alex could relax, she noticed other patrons staring at them. At first, she assumed it stemmed from her mother’s scene, but it slowly dawned on her that it was her and Brody “together” that was drawing eyes.
“Oh, dear,” she mumbled.
“Now what?” Brody asked.
“In my haste to one-up my mom, I forgot about the GVF gossip mill.”
Brody glanced around. “What do you mean?”
“All these people think we’re a couple now. Once this gets out, there’s no putting the genie back in the bottle.”
“You could slap me and storm out,” Brody offered, and Pops laughed.
“That’s really sweet of you,” Alex said. “And very tempting. But you’ve already done enough for me. We’ll break up later. Let’s just go.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Brody spent the week working. He’d convinced Alex to give him the Wi-Fi password to the router in his cabin, saying he wasn’t really visiting anymore and needed it for work. The final selling point was actually a threat—if he couldn’t get his own, he would camp out in her office or on her front porch to steal her signal. She’d agreed pretty quickly after that ultimatum.
He spent his days studying the online travel world, reading blogs, watching vlogs, and researching how popular freelancers made money. He followed a few of the top content creators to keep an eye on their tactics. And finally, he started taking notes on his book ideas.
On Wednesday, he finished his Whispering Pines article and sent it off to Wanderlust with a bittersweet goodbye. He’d revised his initial, not-so-flattering assessment and given it a glowing review. The editors would take it from here, and he wouldn’t see it again until it came out in print a few weeks from now.
Alex was avoiding him. Other than his pitch for Wi-Fi, they’d barely spoken. Especially not about the brunch from hell.
