Page 28 of The Mistakes I've Made
Just five minutes ago, I’d been minding my own business, going through my checklist of chores for my afternoon fishing tour when I heard it.
That voice.
It’d crawled up my spine and sent electricity straight to my gut. My back had straightened, and I’d immediately looked around, wondering what I’d done to deserve this kind of punishment twice in one day.
Oh, come on, Taylor. You know you like it, my brain argued.
And that was the root of the problem.
I did like it. I liked her.
Too damn much.
But, as I’d turned around to face my sexy nemesis, I’d found nothing but air. I’d thought for a split second that maybe I was going crazy, that this hot brunette from the Pacific had done such a number on me that I was now imagining her.
But then I’d heard it again.
That sultry voice. But, this time, it hadn’t been so sultry. It had been angry.
No, not angry.
Pissed.
“Six weeks!” I’d heard her shout.
So, like I’d learned in kindergarten, I’d put my listening ears on, and that was when I’d gotten all the sordid details I needed to destroy her. And, now, all I had to do was deliver the good news to my brother.
“You overheard?” Dean said, a bit taken aback. “So, you’re stalking her now? I thought I told you to stay away from this woman!”
I let out a frustrated breath.
I’d breezed into our office with the good news not three minutes earlier, and rather than hugging me with delight and words of thanks, my brother was staring at me like I was a raving lunatic.
“I wasn’t stalking her!” I replied, throwing my hands up in the air. “It’s not my fault she’s a loud talker. Or that she put her father on speaker for important calls.”
His eyebrow rose in suspicion as he leaned back in his chair. “All right, I’ll give you that. But I fail to see how this is going to help us.”
Now, the pacing began. “What? How can you not see this as a victory, Dean? She is on shaky ground with her dad. He gave her six weeks to prove herself. That gives us a month and a half to demolish her.”
Still not convinced, he pressed me further. “And how do we do that?”
“She’s trying to tear down the building, so we have it declared as a historical building. She wants to use a local construction company; we talk them out of it.”
“You’re going to try to talk hard-working people out of a job? A job that could be huge for not only their families, but also their careers?”
I groaned. “You’re not seeing the big picture here. What she does to this hotel, it could affect all of us.”
“No,” he said, rising to his full height. “That part I get. What I don’t think you get is this, Taylor. This monster you’re trying to slay is far bigger than you realize. You cut off one head, and four more grow back.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that, if you manage to do what you’re saying—you talk construction crews out of working with her, you have the building declared historical—fighting her every step along the way, and her father shakes his head at her little project at the end of that six weeks, it doesn’t mean this is over. Hart International still owns the building. Do you think they’re just going to let it sit around until the end of time?”
“No,” I answered. “But it’s a start.”
“It’s a Band-Aid,” he replied sadly.
“Even her father said they’d have a hell of a time getting shit done without town approval.”
