Page 47 of All Mine

He fiddled with the menu. “I’d venture to say everyone’s personal experiences make their reality slightly different from the next person.”

“Very well. What was this truce you spoke of?” I crossed my legs.

“I want you to stop protesting my business.”

“Or you won’t have sex with me?”

“It’s about my professional life, not personal.”

“It’s all the same for me.”

“Fair enough. My client was distraught with today’s protest and has threatened to fire me off the project. So, I’ll lose a whole butt-ton of money and not to mention all the wasted time. Oh, and you’ll lose out too.”

“How do you figure?”

“The longer all this takes, the longer until you get a custom bakery that has the capabilities to serve even more customers and isn’t a fire hazard.”

“It is not.”

“You’re not up to code in that kitchen.”

“I pass every health inspection.”

“Building code, I mean. That kitchen should have never passed inspection. And probably wouldn’t have if your name hadn’t been—”

“Don’t you dare. My name has zero clout in this town anymore.”

“You cannot possibly believe that. Even if it has very little to do with it, everyone knows and adores you.”

His preposterous insinuation bounced around my brain. My family had nothing to do with my business, and the inspector certainly didn’t consider that. Right? I stood.

“Now, now,” he said in a placating tone that grated the length of my spine. “Tell me what you want in exchange for not picketing my business. That’s how truce’s work.”

“Is it at all possible for you to not be an ass?”

“Yes. But, I find that life isn’t nearly as much fun.” He flashed a boyish grin.

“Oh my god,” I muttered. What had I gotten myself into? I plopped back down in the chair, and leaned forward.

He slid a foot over and tapped mine. “So, what’ll it be.”

“Don’t buy the land.”

“You know I can’t give you that.”

“The name of your client.” I rubbed my sweaty palms across my thighs.

“I signed an NDA.”

“Is that normal?”

“No. But, he’s very particular about his privacy.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood. Would some faceless figure evict us?

“Fine. I won’t protest your business, but I will not stop looking for a way to stop the sale.” My protests wouldn’t put him out of business, and it wasn’t fair of me to try. I needed the name of his client.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

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