Page 13 of Against the Rules (Harts of Passion 1)

"Who else could possibly want that building?"

John shrugged. "Maybe someone has the same idea you do?"

I frowned. "If that's true, it narrows down the possibilities to about two other people. But they're not as entrenched in the downtown as I am. Their success doesn't depend on it, so I can't see them investing in it."

Why anyone else would want the former newspaper building, I'd no idea. It would take a tremendous amount of non-cost-effective renovations to convert it to anything such as offices or apartments, or even a store. What it did have that I wanted was large open areas made of concrete and reinforced steel flooring that was necessary to hold heavy presses—or cars for a parking garage. Renovations for my purpose would be minimal by comparison. I had a lot riding on that deal, and if anyone thought I wasn't willing to play hardball, they were about to learn just how tough I could play.

"Make this happen, John. Tell Phelps I want the contract for that building or any further investment in his renewal project from me is unlikely. We had an agreement."

"Don't worry. We’ll get it."

I appreciated the confidence John voiced. He did his job well, and he knew the importance of making this deal happen.

It wasn't only good business for me; it was imperative for the growth of Passion, an independent city of about sixteen thousand people with a small-town feeling. Nestled in the foothills in Virginia, it was once nothing but a meeting point of Indian trails and wagon roads. Passion became an important hub for the railroad industry in the nineteenth century. It brought thousands of workers and accompanying them were stores, hospitals, a college, and factories that utilized the convenient rail lines. The colonists' dream to create a thriving community came true. That is until steam locomotives became a part of history, the use of passenger trains gave way to cars, and trucks took over much of the transportation system. Passion began to dry up as the railroad laid off thousands of workers, and more than half the population moved elsewhere.

Then a few years ago came the news that Lithium had been discovered while some university geologists were evaluating a rock formation about fifteen miles out of town. I did the research. If it could be recovered, it would be huge, since the U.S. imported eighty percent of the mineral. I gambled and decided to move to Passion, my mom's birthplace and the town she been yearning to return to for years.

It paid off. Big time.

Passion was prime for new real estate opportunities. I had a front-row seat and more opportunities than I could keep up with. I'd decided the best long-term investment was developing businesses rather than residential areas. Most other companies chose the housing market, so I had little competition. My small company grew, both physically and financially.

Our City Manager also had the foresight to see that many new families and businesses might locate here once the new mine was in production, but not if there was nothing else to offer them. He was determined to bring the cosmopolitan feel the small city had a few generations ago back to life, and so far, he was doing an excellent job. Citizens loved the new stores and facelifts of old ones.

The big problem? Not enough parking. People would go elsewhere to shop or conduct business if they were too frustrated trying to find parking. Just over a year ago, I'd purchased a section of old buildings and was working on remodeling them into state-of-the-art offices, worthy of the best professionals our city, or any town within a hundred miles, had to offer. But I couldn't attract owners if they couldn't entice clients who hated to come downtown because of limited street parking. When I'd approached Phelps with the idea of turning the abandoned newspaper building on a corner in the middle of downtown into a parking garage, he'd agreed without hesitation.

Fucking Phelps. He has to see the bigger picture! What else could be more important?

Across from me, John shifted in his chair and crossed his leg over his opposite knee.

My eyebrow arched. While we got along well, we didn't do idle chitchat. I respected John immensely, but he was twice my age, and we didn't have much in common outside of work. "Something else wrong?"

"I ran into an old friend yesterday, someone I knew in high school but haven't seen since."

Why the hell was he telling me this? "Oh?" I sorted some plans and estimates on my desk.

"We got to talking. It turned out she’s your mother."

I pushed the papers aside. It seemed we might have more in common than I thought. "I didn't realize you knew her."

"As I said, it's been awhile. I hadn't known she was related to you, nor that she'd moved back to town." He held my gaze.

I leaned back in my chair. "Why are you telling me this?"

John looked me straight in the eye. "I'm taking her out to dinner tonight. I thought you should know."

Well, shit! Didn't see that coming.

"Okaaay," I said.

"Depending on how it goes, it might not be the only time."

"I see." While I tried to keep my expression neutral, my insides felt like they were on a Tilt-a-Whirl ride.

"We went out a few times in high school. It was nothing serious at the time. Then she met your dad, and that was that as they say. Your dad was a super guy, and they made a great couple. Caroline and I remained friends for the rest of high school, but we didn't stay in touch after graduation. It was good to see her today, and we hit it off, just like old times."

John shifted in his seat while I continued to stare at him. "Your dad was a great guy, Jax. I'm sorry about what happened to him. I'm sure it wasn't easy on you or your mom."

You have no idea, I wanted to say. Instead, I nodded. "It wasn't."

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