“Well, of course you are,” Mr. Adams says quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I was just saying … since I’m guessing it’s a company expense, is all.”
“And who says I don’t own the company, Mr. Adams?” I lift a brow.
“You don’t,” Ridge utters. “We’ve been through this quite a few times, Fireball. Let me tell you how it goes and see if it tracks. The big boss man—or woman—is always the last to come out.” He looks me up and down, playing with me like I’m his prey. “First, they send the weakest one, and we met that guy this summer. Poor bastard. Couldn’t sell water in a drought. Next, they send the one who’s trying to climb the ladder.” There’s a short pause before he points at me. “And look … here you are.”
Just being here and letting them know we’re interested in this land has his boxers in a bunch. A big one at that. I’d like to tell him to fuck off, but that’s not professional, and it’s certainly not going to get me any closer to sealing this deal either.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you gentlemen at least hear me out over dinner?” I smile—or I attempt to. “You can come to my Airbnb. And you are welcome to bring your wives or the rest of the family.” I say the second part, hoping they’ll say the others are out of town. I don’t know how many other Ridge Adamses I can handle; I did my research on this family the night beforeI flew here, so I know that Ridge has three brothers, and I’m pretty sure they all live right around here too.
Hopefully, they’re more delightful.
The men glance at each other, and even though it’s obvious Ridge can hardly stand the sight of me, I get the feeling that his dad feels bad—which I hate, but I also know that I could use it to my advantage.
“I’ll check with my wife, Katherine,” Mr. Adams says, his voice low, like I’ve just put him in the worst spot ever.
“I’ve been out to haul all day, so tonight’s not going to work,” Ridge utters. “Also, we’re not coming to your Airbnb,” he adds, grabbing a tool out of his bag and holding it at his side. “If you want to talk, you can come to us.”
I shouldn’t feel hopeful, given the absolute glare that’s still resting on his face. But he didn’t say no, so that’s got to count for something.
“All right, that sounds fine.” I fake a polite smile, even though I want to punch him in the face.
“I’ll talk to my brothers,” he grumbles before turning his attention to his dad. “A hose blew, so I’ve got to repair it before it gets any later.”
“Go on.” Mr. Adams nods.
As Ridge makes his way back toward where he first appeared from, he spares me one more glance. His eyes are filled with humor, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “Hey, Fireball.” He jerks his chin up. “If you think I’m a dick, wait till there’s three more of me sitting at a table with you while you try to make your pitch.”
“I live in New York City,” I coo. “I work in a building full of men who think they are God’s gift to earth. So, trust me, I’ll be just fine. Thanks though.”
I fight back my eye roll, and after another glare, he disappears back into the wheelhouse of his boat.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a business card and hold it out to Mr. Adams. “My cell is on there. Please, let me know a day and time that works for all of you.”
Reluctantly, he takes it. “Will do,” he mutters, looking down at it. “Oh, and, Stella?”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.” He cringes. “My boys? They love this land. This is their pride—their legacy.” He looks at me. “So, while they may agree to hear you out … us selling? It’s never going to happen.”
Before I can come up with something to say, he walks off, leaving me on the wharf by myself in the cold December night air. I stand here for a second, looking around at the dimly lit cove with the lobster boats scattered throughout the water before, finally, I turn and leave before Ridge gets a chance to come back and be a dick once more.
Dick should be that guy’s middle name.
“Ol’ Outlaw, you on here?” comes over my radio as I sail in past the lighthouse, headed into the wharf to sell today’s catch. I know it’s my brother Riley’s voice right away.
Like a jackass, I felt cool and named my boatEastern Outlawright after I graduated high school. Years later, I knew it made me look like a cocky prick, but my grandfather had helped me pick the name out after I got busted throwing a party when I was eighteen. So, when I got a new boat, I named it the same thing.
Picking up the microphone, I bring it closer to my face and keep my other hand on the wheel. “Yeah, go ahead,” I say to Riley.
“What the fuck is this dinner bullshit tonight?”
I can feel my two stern men’s eyes on me—no doubt, they’re wondering what Riley is talking about. The thing with these two guys? They love to gossip a bit too much, and that’s exactly how the rumor mill gets started—by hearing a sliver of information. If they hear why we have to meet this woman, they’ll tell half the town we’re selling out by tomorrow.
“Just some business thing—that’s all.” I leave my answer vague.
I know I’ll have to fill him in on the truth before the actual dinner at our parents’ tonight, which I will. But there’s no sense in doing it now. Besides, it’s Riley. He doesn’t get worked up over anything, so he certainly won’t about this.
What he will do is hit on Stella. And that’s annoying as fuck because she’s the villain. We need to treat her like one.
