Page 84 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

That was as close to approval as I was going to get. And I was more than happy to take it.

Alexis clapped her hands together. “Then let’s pop some champagne and make it official!”

I laughed. “I still have to sign the lease.”

“Minor details.” She waved a hand.

My father sighed, but I caught the pride in his eyes before he turned away. “Well, sweetheart, if you’re sure about this⁠—”

“I’m sure,” I said. “This is my place. My business.”

For the first time in years, I wasn’t running from something. I was building toward it. I was ready to put down roots in the one place I thought I would never end up at.

Dad looked around the place one more time and nodded. Now, he was seeing the potential. “Then let’s celebrate. Dinner’s on me. Alexis, you’re basically part of the family. You’re welcome to come.”

Alexis winked. “You two enjoy your father-daughter time. I’ve got a hot date with a bottle of wine and my couch.”

The restaurant was one of Dad’s favorites—a cozy Italian place with checkered tablecloths and candles stuck in old Chianti bottles. The smell of garlic and simmering tomatoes wrapped around us as we settled into a corner booth. I inhaled the scent and found I was truly starving.

“So,” Dad said, unfolding his napkin and putting it in his lap. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

I swirled my wine. “I know.”

“It’s a tough business,” he continued. “Brutal, sometimes. And not every season will be kind.”

“I’ve been in the business long enough to know that.”

He leaned back, studying me. “But you’ve got something I didn’t when I started.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Me.” He grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “And this town? They’ll see you for who you are. Hardworking. Independent. Someone who actually gives a damn about the people here.”

My throat tightened unexpectedly. I took a quick sip of wine to cover it.

Dad reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away, laughing softly. “You can’t just say things like that when I’m holding a full glass of wine.”

He chuckled, releasing my hand to dig into the bread basket.

“So,” I said, tearing off a piece of bread and dragging it through the marinara sauce on the plate. “What do you think the other realtors in town are going to say when they hear a Watson’s back in the game?”

Dad paused mid-bite of his breadstick, narrowing his eyes like he was already running through the list in his head. “Well,” he said after a moment. “You’ve got old man Thompson, but he’s been coasting for years. He won’t see you coming until it’s too late. He gets by on his name alone. He doesn’t know how to get his clients the best deals.”

I smirked. “Good. Let him coast right into retirement.”

“Then there’s Karen Michaels,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. “She’s sharp, but she’s all about those high-end vacation properties. You won’t be stepping on her toes too much.”

I nodded, making a mental note. Karen was good—too good to underestimate—but Dad was right. Her niche was different from what I had in mind.

“And Greg Hargrove?” I asked, keeping my tone casual even though Greg had always rubbed me the wrong way. He was the kind of guy who thought charm could make up for competence. He’d been my dad’s biggest competition over the years.

Dad snorted. “Greg? He’ll talk a big game, but he’s lazy. Always cutting corners. You’ll outwork him without breaking a sweat.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Confidence boost, Dad. Thanks.”

He gave me a knowing look. “You don’t need my confidence boost, kid. You’re already three steps ahead of anyone else in this town. You’ve got the guts to come back here and start over, and that’s something most people never have the courage to do.” He paused, taking a sip of his wine. “But keep your eyes open. Small towns have long memories, and not everyone’s going to be happy to see you back. Some people might see you as competition or think you’re just here to stir the pot.”