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It’s an emergency.

I stare at the texts, wondering if I should go or not. More than likely, it’s not an emergency, just a way for Bree to get me to talk to her. But at the same time, what if it is an emergency?

My office phone beeps with an in-house call from my dad, summoning me like his stupid little puppet, and I make the decision to go. If nothing else, I’ll get to see Bree and maybe Brody for a few minutes. It’ll hurt like a bitch when I have to walk out the door again, but fuck, I miss them.

My phone vibrates with a call from my dad, and I send him to voicemail, then send a text to him that I’m dealing with an emergency and I’ll call him later.

He responds with a message demanding me to go see him immediately, but I ignore him and take off to the condo.

When I arrive, my heart pounds in my chest at the thought of seeing them. It’s been a little over a week since I’ve seen either of them in person or heard their voices, and I’m craving them like a damn addict.

Without thinking, I type in my code and use the card I still have to take me up to the top floor, and when the doors open, I find Bree standing there with Brody.

“You came,” she says.

“You said it was an emergency,” I say, masking my expression, knowing it will only make things worse if I show any emotion.

“It is,” she says, walking toward me. “I want the truth. Why did you walk away?”

I open my mouth to spew my go-to lie, but before the words come out, she adds, “And don’t you dare lie to me again. You promised me the truth…always. You at least owe me that.”

I close my mouth and consider how to go about this. Telling the truth will defeat the entire purpose of what I’ve done. And then it hits me… She said again. Is it possible she knows I was lying when I left?

“Hayden, please,” she says softly, palming my face gently. “Tell me why you left.”

“It’s not going to change anything,” I murmur, my eyes locking with hers before they go to her plump lips, wishing I could kiss her.

“That’s okay,” she says. “I just… I need the truth.”

The day after the charity gala

Dad: We need to talk.

I ignore his text, just like I did last night, not giving a shit that he needs to talk to me. There’s nothing I need or want to hear from him.

I’m about to put my phone away when a second text comes through that gets my attention.

Dad: It’s regarding your girlfriend’s little bakery.

Me: What about it?

Dad: Call Carly and schedule a meeting.

Such an asshole. Since there’s no way I’m not finding out what’s going on regarding Bree’s bakery, I call Carly and schedule an appointment for this afternoon.

When lunch rolls around, I let Hillary know I have an appointment and won’t be in for the rest of the day and then take off.

My dad runs behind in his previous meeting I’m sure to spite me, and finally, nearly forty minutes after our scheduled time, Carly lets me know he’s ready to see me.

“Son, how nice to see you,” Dad says. “Drink?”

“Get to the point, please. I have shit to do. What is it you need to talk to me about?”

He picks up a stack of papers and drops them in front of me. “Turns out Violet and Roy Heart were all too trusting. Although back then, times were different.” He shrugs. “People would shake hands and consider it an agreement. But things have changed over the years, and now, it’s very difficult for a verbal agreement to stand in court, especially when both parties are deceased.”

I stare at the papers in front of me, but I can’t make heads or tails of what I’m looking at based on the bullshit my dad is spewing.

“Let me,” he says, flipping the pages to the last one. “I have another meeting in fifteen minutes, so we’ll have to speed this up.” He points at the lines at the bottom of the page. “This is the contract between Violet and Roy Heart and Sal Benitez, where they agreed to a ninety-nine-year lease on the property where Heart’s Coffeehouse and Bakery resides. What’s missing?” He taps his finger right over the blank lines… Fuck, they’re blank. How can that be?

I flip through all the pages, looking for somewhere they might’ve signed, an initial, anything that can hold up in court. But there’s nothing. Neither party ever signed the damn paperwork. Which means Bree has no rights as far as her coffeehouse goes.

Fuck, if my dad buys the property, she’s screwed. He’ll kick her out in a heartbeat and without paying her a dime since she has no leg to stand on without a signed contract.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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