Читать книгу Engaging The Enemy - Reese Ryan - Страница 10

One

Parker Abbott pulled into the parking lot of the two-story building that had definitely seen better days.

Better decades even.

He parked, turned off the engine and groaned.

Kayleigh.

His high school nemesis and the one person in town who was most likely to head up the Parker Abbott not-a-fan club.

Usually he enjoyed negotiating deals for their family-owned distillery. But the thought of negotiating anything with Kayleigh made a knot form in his gut.

Perhaps because, deep down, he still saw her as the girl with curly pigtails and thick glasses who had once been his closest friend. Until a falling-out had made them bitter adversaries.

Parker heaved a sigh, pushed open the car door and climbed to his feet.

Waiting five more minutes, or even five more days, wouldn’t make the task ahead any easier.

Parker straightened his tie and grabbed his attaché from the back seat of the car. He wasn’t that preteen boy with a killer crush on Kayleigh Jemison anymore. He was a goddamned professional, and he was going to act like it, even if it killed him.

As Parker approached the shop, he caught sight of Kayleigh’s shock of coppery-red curls through the window. She was gorgeous, as always, with her honey-brown skin and expressive coffee-brown eyes.

Kayleigh was laughing with a customer, but as she waved goodbye to the woman, she caught a glimpse of him standing outside, gawking at her.

Her deep scowl and hard stare confirmed exactly what he’d expected. Kayleigh Jemison was going to give him hell.

He reached into his pocket, flipped the top on a tube of antacids and popped two into his mouth.

* * *

Kayleigh Jemison folded her arms as she stared through the window of her small handmade-jewelry-and-consignment shop.

What the hell was he doing there? It wasn’t Christmas and his mother’s and sister’s birthdays weren’t imminent. And the uptight, Wall-Street-wannabe certainly wasn’t the kind of man who’d wear her hand-tooled jewelry. So why was he here? And why on earth was he staring at her like she was a museum exhibit?

Kayleigh involuntarily dragged her fingers through her wild red curls, trying to create some semblance of order.

It was a slow weekday, so she’d been in the back, stamping and hammering metal pieces to be shipped to customers across the country. She wore a faded old T-shirt and a tattered pair of jeans stained with leather dye. A black bandanna pulled her hair back.

In short, she looked a hot damn mess.

Of all the days for him to show up at her shop... Kayleigh sighed, giving up any hope of redeeming her look.

What did it matter anyway?

As far as Parker was concerned, she was beneath the mighty Abbotts. They were the family with the keys to the kingdom in their growing small town of Magnolia Lake, Tennessee, a gem situated in the foothills of the picturesque Smoky Mountains.

The Abbotts, owners of King’s Finest Distillery, the largest local employer, were well-known and beloved by everyone in town.

Except her.

The little bell over the entrance tinkled when Parker yanked open the door, holding it for the customer who was leaving. The woman was juggling her purse, her bags and an unruly toddler.

So he does have manners. He just uses them selectively.

“Parker Abbott, what brings you into my shop today?” Kayleigh stood straight as a rod and tried to relax her involuntary scowl.

She’d returned to Magnolia Lake to start a business after going to college in Nashville and then living in Atlanta. Waging an outright war with the Abbotts would be detrimental to her interests. Besides, despite her disdain for Parker and his father, his mother and sister were nice enough. They’d been longtime customers and had referred lots of other clients. They’d even invited her to sell a few of her higher-end pieces on consignment at the distillery gift shop.

It was a lucrative partnership. So despite her utter disdain for the man who’d once been her closest friend, but betrayed her without the slightest hint of an apology, she would play nice.

For now.

“I wondered if you planned on coming in or if you were auditioning to be a living statue.”

Okay, maybe not exactly nice, but close enough.

He glared at her with his typical Parker Abbott glare, but then he did something beyond strange.

He actually smiled.

Or at least he was attempting to smile. He looked like Jack Nicholson as the Joker.

She kept that observation to herself, but she couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her face.

“Good afternoon, Kayleigh,” Parker said in a tone that was unnaturally cheerful for him. “I was hoping I could have a few minutes of your time, if you’re not too busy.”

Kayleigh scanned the empty store, but bit back a flippant response. “Sure. What can I do for you, Abbott?”

Parker relaxed and his smile looked a little more natural. “Actually, I’d like to do something for you.”

“Is that right?” Kayleigh folded her arms, one eyebrow raised. “Now, what would that be?”

Parker indicated the two chaises placed back-to-back in the center of the store. “Would it be all right if we sat?”

Kayleigh shrugged. “Sure.”

After Parker took a seat on one of the chaises, she sat at the opposite end and turned toward him, glancing at the leather cuff timepiece on her wrist. “You were saying?”

Parker was one of the most impatient men she knew. Why, for God’s sake, wasn’t he getting to the point? She had orders to complete and ship.

“I’d like to buy your store.”

“What?”

Surely she’d misheard him. Why on earth would Parker want to do that? The man had no use for her jewelry; he only wore a watch. In fact he collected high-end timepieces purchased at seizure auctions and estate sales. But that was the extent of his jewelry collection, as far as she could tell.

Kayleigh schooled her features, determined not to show her surprise. “I’m sorry, did you say you want to purchase my store?”

Parker straightened his tie and made another attempt at a smile. This one was better. “Not the store, per se. What we’re after is the building. You’d be free to reestablish the store wherever you’d like.”

Kayleigh almost laughed. She pointed to the worn floorboards beneath her. “You want this building?”

She loved this place, but the old girl was falling apart at the seams. She’d bought it five years ago, expecting it to be a long-term fixer-upper. But the building had required expensive repairs to the foundation, new plumbing and electrical rewiring. All of which had cost a bundle but had done little to improve the aesthetics.

The ancient roof had been patched more times than she cared to admit, and the HVAC system for the store was just about on its last legs. The nicest part of the building was the apartment she rented out upstairs. Her apartment, also upstairs, had plenty of shabby but very little chic.

“Why would you want to buy my building? The distillery is ten miles from here. And if you want a building in town, why not one built in that new multipurpose shopping center your brother is building up the road?”

There was a tick in Parker’s jaw and his mask slipped. He seemed to be making a real effort to hide his annoyance, but it flickered in his dark eyes.

“We have plans for it.”

It was evident that Parker didn’t want to share those plans. At least not with her.

“Thank you for the offer, but my building isn’t for sale,” Kayleigh said politely, rising to her feet.

“You haven’t even heard my offer.” Parker stood, too.

“It doesn’t matter what you’re offering because the building isn’t for sale.” She folded her arms again.

“Despite its current condition, I’ll give you the tax-assessed value of the building.”

Though she knew the information was public, it made her skin crawl to think that Parker had gone through her records. She scowled. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

She walked behind the counter, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Kayleigh, you’re being unreasonable. I’m making you a generous offer.” When she didn’t reply, he waved his large hand around the room. “My God, look at this place. No one in their right mind is going to give you full value for this building in the condition it’s in now.”

“I plan to fix the place up. Flip it, eventually.”

“We both know that’s not something you can afford. If you could, you surely would’ve replaced that old, leaky roof by now.”

Kayleigh’s face stung. It was one thing for her to disparage her old, run-down building; it was another thing altogether for the high-and-mighty Lord Parker Abbott to do it.

“You don’t know anything about me or what I can afford,” she seethed, her pulse racing.

“Then why haven’t you—”

“I’ll replace the damn roof when I’m good and ready.”

Parker sighed, clearly exasperated that she hadn’t fallen to her knees and kissed his expensive Italian loafers, thanking him for his “generous” offer.

“It’s your first property and it’s where you started your business. You’re sentimental about the place. I get it. I’ll offer you five percent above tax value.”

“No.” Kayleigh peered at him.

“Ten percent above.”

“No.” Her heart jackhammered in her chest. Partly because she was indignant that Parker Abbott thought he could just walk in off the street and steal her building right from under her. As if she was an inconsequential bug he could squash under his heel and then keep it moving. Partly because she realized she was acting contrary to her own best interest.

Parker was right. No one else would want this building in its current condition, and they certainly wouldn’t give her the tax-assessed value for it.

“Dammit, Kayleigh, we’re being more than generous here. You’re just being obstinate for the sake of it. Forget for a moment that it’s me making the offer and just think about it. You can move to that new shopping center that’s going to get all that tourist traffic. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

“Is there a better way for me to say this? Hmm... Let me see... Hell to the no, Parker. My building isn’t for sale.”

Parker sighed heavily, as if the words he was conjuring were causing him physical pain. “All right, Kayleigh. What if we pay fifty percent more than the assessed value?”

Kayleigh’s ears perked up. If cheap-ass Parker Abbott was offering to overpay for her building, he wanted the place desperately. Which meant she was the one with the leverage. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. A chance to reclaim some of what Duke Abbott had stolen from her family.

While she and her older sister, Evelisse, were away at college and her father was deathly ill, Duke had paid her mother a mere pittance for the land she’d inherited from Kayleigh’s maternal grandfather. He’d taken advantage of her mother at her lowest point and robbed them of land that had been handed down in their family for generations.

Kayleigh stood taller, her chin tipped up as she met his intense gaze. “It would be nice to move my shop to the new mixed-use center, but as I’m sure you already know, leasing space there won’t be cheap. And there’s something else you haven’t considered...”

“And what might that be?” Parker, the unofficial president of the Hard-core Perfectionists’ Club, looked indignant at her insinuation that he’d overlooked something.

“This building doesn’t just house my business. It’s also my home. Then there’s the rental income from the other apartment. While your offer seems generous on the surface...all things considered...it’s a hard pass.”

“That’s why I’m offering you way more than this...place...is worth.”

“But not enough if you expect me to move my shop, studio and apartment while also recouping lost rental income.”

“No one’s lived there since Savannah moved out three years ago,” Parker said, referring to his sister-in-law and Kayleigh’s closest friend.

“I make even more off it as an Airbnb,” she said casually.

“Okay, fine. What figure would you consider adequate compensation?” Parker shoved his hands in his pockets and widened his stance.

Kayleigh’s gaze was automatically drawn to the panel over his zipper and the outline of his...

Nope. Uh-uh. Hell no.

“Give me twice the tax-assessed value and I’ll gladly hand the building over to you today. Lock, stock and barrel.”

Parker looked like a volcano about to erupt. “Are you insane? Seriously, Kayleigh, you should be paying me to take this friggin’ money pit off your hands. Like, right now, before the whole damn building falls down around us.” He gestured wildly.

Before she could tell him exactly where he could shove his last offer, her phone rang. She blew out a hard breath and whipped her phone out of her pocket.

Kira Brennan.

Kayleigh hadn’t seen or heard that name in more than seven years. She hadn’t expected to ever again. So why was Kira Brennan calling her now?