Page 12 of Bloom and Burn
He chuckles lightly, but doesn’t let it become a full laugh, probably because he is unsure what my reaction means. To be honest, I’m not sure either, as selling the space has never crossed my mind. That aide, I’m still curious to find out why he wants it.
Jack takes a deep breath and traces the edge of the woven basket with his fingers. “I want to build a medical facility specializing in the research and treatment of paralysis.”
I gape at him with my mouth hanging open like a sheep having a stroke in the middle of bleating. Is he pulling my leg? He wants to buy me out so he can build a goddamn facility to cure paralysis?
“Uh… I’m having some trouble processing over here. Is this some kind of a joke? Last I heard, paralysis wasn’t really treatable…”
He tenses up, but keeps smiling. “It isn’t, not really. At least with conventional approaches. Which is why I want to build this facility, so that I can test the experimentaltreatment I created. It requires specialized equipment and labs. This building and the surrounding land offer the only suitable plot in Estacada where the complex can be built. Hence why I want to buy you out. The owner of the land and the other people with stakes in the building already agreed to sell to me.”
Jack has been here, what, a day? He sure moves fast, assuming what he’s saying is the truth and not some elaborate new scam or a way of bullying your neighbors.
I examine his expensive suit with the bird logo—surely he’d be wearing a white lab coat if he was really a scientist, right? Maybe some glasses, too. Big corporations have tried to set up shop in Estacada before, wishing to buy off agriculture land so they could build their manufacturing plants. And we do have a couple. But since dad took on the mayor’s hat, no new factories have been constructed, and people seem to like it that way. I do think there is only so much capacity for these things in a small town, so even if Jack bought the Orchid’s share in the building, I’m not so sure dad would approve the construction of his medical facility without a fight.
Granted, Jack really intends to build a medical facility for paralysis treatment.
“Is this some a new scam? Are you preying on people’s empathy to trick them into selling to you under market value?”
A small smile teases Jack’s lips and a challenging spark comes to life in his hazel eyes. “You don’t believe me, I’m not surprised.”
I shrug, pressing my hip against the edge of the floral bar. “No offense, but anyone can make up such a tearjerker lie. And besides…” I worry my lip and give his suit a pointed look. “You don’t look like a doctor one bit.”
“Ah, I knew I shouldn’t have bothered trying to impress you with my sense of style.” He tips his chin down and takes in his clothes as if for the first time, then produces a business card and a small tablet from one of the pockets of the beige overcoat he’s wearing.
Oh, so hewastrying to impress me? I grin, then berate myself for the little flutters that shoot out across me.Don’t get distracted by his cute flirting, Ryan! It might be all part of his plan to scam you!
I take the business card, my eyes going wide.Well, damn. Jack Keller, MD., PhD., and CEO of JE Pharmaceuticals? Are you kidding me? He sure didn’t waste his time. I should’ve given up on my internet detox last night and stalked the dude online so I would be even remotely prepared to face off this Greek god genius. I mean, have you seen him? He’s sexyandsmart, and I’m practically salivating just looking at him.
“The number at the bottom,” he says with a smile, typing it onto an accreditation website he’s pulled up on the tablet. “It proves that I’m not lying.” He grins. “I’m the real deal, I promise.”
I shift my attention to the small device, and if I pay extra attention to his sexy long fingers and big palm, well, that’s no one’s business. Ahem. Once I have confirmed his credentials, he loads up a fancy-looking slideshow.
“The facility I want to build,” he starts, going to the next slide. It’s a concept drawing of the complex and its various buildings, “will focus on the research and treatment of various forms of paralysis. Aside from the usual stuff”—he clicks to the next slide, which has a table with a bunch of formulas—“we’ll be testing out an experimental approach based on a… theory that I developed during my studies. It’s the topic of my thesis and I’m… very hopeful.”
Mm, he doesn’t lack confidence. He’s kind low-key about it too, humble-bragging rather than shouting in my face how great he is. I like that. The conceited alphaholes who flounder their money and status and treat you like trash were never my thing. I dated a guy or two like that, but it never got far. We clashed too much because I just don’t have it in me to let force-y, condescending, do-as-I-say-or-I-will-throw-a-tantrum menchildren boss me around.
A handsome, intelligent and respectful guy on the other hand… Even his boasting, which sounded more like he is simply proud of what he’s achieved, is kind of sexy. It’s surprising, for sure, considering the crowd he used to hang out with in high school, but it also confirms that somewhere along the way he definitely made all the right choices.
“So you reallyarea scientist, Jack Keller. One that’s taken on paralysis, no less. I can’t imagine that’s an easy battle to lead…”
“It isn’t, but I am highly motivated. And rather confident.” He smiles, but this time it’s different. There is something sad in it, something regretful. “We are close. It’s just the final stretch left, and if everything goes as it should, a lot of lives will be changed. I just”—the playfulness returns to his eyes, wild and charming—“need you to agree to sell your share of the building to me so I can bulldoze it.”
He delivers an impressive salesman’s pitch of what he’s already told me in a sweet, honeyed voice that has us both cracking up.
“You are something,” I tell him, fighting off leftover pig noises as his expression turns solemn.
“Maybe. I’m glad you think so. But jokes aside, I really hope you’ll consider my offer and give me an answer by the end of the week so I can move things along.”
I fold my arms over my purple apron and hum. His expression wavers, betraying he’s actually nervous even if he’s doing his best to appear calm. “If I refuse to sell, what will you do? Can you build anywhere else?”
“Not in Estacada, no. We’d have to look for another location again and…” He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “I’d rather we didn’t have to do that since Em seems to like it here.”
I sense a story there, but I leave probing about it for another time, because I’m also curious about his sister. “You want to live here?”
“She does, and I go where she goes.” My confused frown causes him to shake his head. “No, no. I don’t mind it. Estacada is a nice small town, and so different from the busy city, you know. It’s relaxing. But unless we can build the facility here to save ourselves a god knows how long of a commute every day, it’s not really a viable option.”
I’m not sure I follow. Can he not do his research remotely? Sure, he’d need a lab every now and then, but… “So, like, do you need to go in every day? Can’t you do simulation and calculations and what not on your computer at home?”
He hesitates, fingering the edge of the floral bar. “I can but… Em is one of the participants in the experimental treatment focus group. So we’d need to commute every day if the complex isn’t in Estacada.”
