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“Huh?” He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Sure. Let me just grab my papers out of the car.”
As he stepped outside, I cleared my place and headed to the kitchen. Debra and Ben were by the sink. He whispered something in her ear and lightly rested his hand around her waist. She giggled, actually giggled, and looked up at him. Their lips met briefly, and both of them grinned.
“I hate to interrupt the moment,” I said dryly. “But this is my kitchen.”
They quickly broke apart like two ashamed teenagers. Ben’s face was red as a beat, and Debra’s eyes flashed in temper. “Before you start on us, I’d like to remind you that there’s nothing in our contracts that says we can’t be together.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered.
“And we’ve been completely professional while we’re at work. This is dinner, personal time, and not work,” she snapped.
“It’s personal time in my kitchen,” I said mildly as I put my plate on the counter.
“Damn it, Brendan, are you going to make a big deal about this?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I opened the fridge and grabbed another beer. “You’re the one making a big deal of it. I’m just trying to clean my plate. You want to know my opinion? I think it’s about damn time Ben pulled his head out of his ass and gave you a chance. As long as it doesn’t interfere with work, I don’t care what the two of you do.”
There was a beat of silence, and Ben cleared his throat. “Thank you, Brendan. I appreciate that.”
Clapping my hand on his back, I nodded. “Good. Now go home. I don’t expect to see either one of you here until Monday, and for god’s sake, get some sleep. The two of you look like hell.”
Debra blushed, something I thought I’d never see, but gave me a small smile. As they scampered out, I finished the dishes and chugged my beer. I wasn’t really in the mood for romance, but I liked to see my friends happy.
“I’m back,” Gordon announced as he slapped his briefcase on the counter. “It turns out that Dennis Blackwell has had his hand in a lot of pies for several years. He’s been playing the shell game, and it took a lot of time to dig this information up. You’re paying out the nose for it too.”
“As long as it’s good, I don’t really care what I’m paying for it,” I grunted. “Go for it.”
“He’s been hiding things from his daddy. After sorting through about twenty different shell corporations, I found a small company, and by small, I mean it has only one employee, that has applied for a business license here in the county.”
“Is that one employee Dennis Blackwell?”
“Actually, it’s not. It’s a lawyer. Dennis doesn’t pay him directly, which is why it took us some time to make the connection, and why Harry probably doesn’t know. This lawyer submitted plans to the agricultural planning committee to open a resort on Harry’s land.”
I nearly choked on my beer. “A resort? Who the hell is going to pay to stay on a ranch?”
“People like Cindy Collins,” he said as he nodded at her empty seat. “It’s going to be a luxury style cowboy experience ranch.” He pulled out another piece of paper and slid it across the table. “We’re talking about a lot of development over that land. A rustic bed and breakfast that is supposed to look like a five-star hotel. Three different restaurants. An Olympic-sized pool as well as a golf course and tennis courts.”
“How the hell is anyone going to have the cowboy experience with all that going on?” I demanded.
“They’re keeping room for things like a rodeo and a racetrack. The horses will be forced onto a much smaller amount of land, and he plans to bring in some cattle as well.” Gordon shook his head. “I can already tell you right now that the county would be a fool not to accept the plan. All they’re going to be thinking about is money.”
“It would ruin this town,” I snapped. “Forcing horses on that small of a space is abuse, and the noise alone would ruin this ranch. Not to mention that targeting people who have no respect for anything is a huge mistake. They’d turn this town into their personal playground. There isn’t a chance in hell that Harry will let that happen.”
“You’re right.” Gordon gathered his papers. “We’ll present this to him next week. You’ve won, Brendan. You don’t need Jillian to convince Harry anymore. The charade is over.”
“What charade?” Jillian asked as she walked back into the kitchen. My stomach immediately tightened. If she knew that we could end our little deal right now, would she stay?
Could I take that chance?
“Ben and Debra are together,” I said quickly before Gordon could answer. It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t really answering her question.
