Page 5 of Daddy's Game

“Ya think?”

“–so why don’t we try a reset? How about I buy you dinner, and we can talk about my proposal. Just talk.”

Her eyes narrowed with cunning.

“Are you asking me on a date? For real? In the same breath as you say you want to buy my center?”

“If you want to call it a date, then so be it,” I said smoothly, which served to infuriate her. I couldn’t help myself with trolling her a little bit. “But my mind is on business, I assure you.”

I could tell from the sneer on her face she knew I was lying. My business brain was being drowned out by my other brain. I wanted to see more of this woman…in more ways than one.

“Look, you’re wasting your time,” she said, closing her eyes and making a dismissive gesture with both hands. “I don’t want your money, so you might as well stop.”

I struck upon an idea I knew wouldn’t fail. It wasn't hard to see that the center was strapped for cash.

“You may not want my money, but you certainly need it.” I gestured to the building’s facade. “You have more windows covered by wooden planks than glass.”

I jutted my chin toward the ceiling, where several dull brown stains formed a rorschach blot on the tiles.

“I’m willing to wager this leaks anytime that it rains. Doesn’t it?”

She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

“Yeah, there are some maintenance issues. That doesn’t mean I’m going to sell.”

I was losing her, on several fronts. I’d learned something in the business world. Sometimes you used the stick, and sometimes you used a carrot.

“How about if I sweeten the pot?” My voice dropped lower. “What if I donate ten thousand dollars to your center—just to have dinner with me and hear my proposal? No strings attached.”

Her lips drew into a thin, tight line. I knew I had my hooks in her, but she proved more stubborn than I thought.

“I’m still going to have to say no.”

“Fine, then let’s make it thirty thousand.”

Her eyes bulged and she stammered out some kind of protest. I had her on the ropes, in boxing terms. Time for the metaphorical knockout blow.

“You’re a hard bargainer, Grace,” I said, surprising her by revealing I already knew her name. “All right. If you have dinner with me tonight and hear me out, then I will cut you a check for one hundred thousand dollars. Now surely, you can’t say no to that.”

3

GRACE

Damn him,I thought bitterly.He knows I can’t refuse that offer. It’s just too generous.

I knew he was just trying to manipulate me into selling the center. And despite my initial attraction, I didn’t want to spend an extended period of time with him. Okay, it was probablybecauseof my attraction to him that I didn't want to do that. I didn’t trust myself to make good decisions around Brock. He had that much of an effect on me.

Yet, I had to think about more than just myself. I had to think of each and every disadvantaged youth who needed the center to fulfill dreams they would otherwise likely never achieve. Dance, music, theater, fine arts—these dreams are often out of reach for people from the ‘wrong side of the tracks.’

The center helped them achieve their dreams. I couldn’t let them down just because I was afraid of a somewhat handsome–okay, extremely handsome man with perfect cheekbones and a body that just wouldn't quit.

I would make the sacrifice for the greater good.

I heaved a sigh, and his smile grew by a mile. He knew that he had won, at least this minor skirmish. But no way would I let him win the war and take the center from me.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “I agree to your terms. But I’m not getting in your car, or meeting you anywhere, until that hundred grand is in the center’s bank account.”

Brock held up a finger. I couldn't help but notice how huge his hands were. He had big veins snaking through them, indicating a lot of power. A flash of those hands caressing me ran through my mind like a streaker before I could possibly stop it.

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