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Again, the vision of blonde Luke rose in his mind, as did an idea. Something that had him killing the motorcycle’s engine. It was also something that lifted a little of the melancholy that had settled over him like a mist since last night.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his phone, not remembering the name until he saw it. He tapped on the phone number and listened to the ringtone as he rolled slightly forward to look up the manor’s driveway.
The road disappeared into a screen of trees, but he saw the front of the stately mansion in his mind’s eye. It would have looked magnificent that morning, looming out of the dawn mist. Like he’d time traveled back to England.
When the woman answered and put him through to his agent, he said, “Hey, it’s Ryder. I have a question for you. How familiar are you with Seattle real estate, and do I have enough cash on hand to make a purchase?”
42
Nita trudged wearily toward Diesel’s car, her body heavy with exhaustion from the grueling bar exam and the lack of sleep. The late afternoon air was chilly, the clouds looming overhead, casting a gray pallor over the city. It felt as if the weather matched her weary state of mind.
“Well, legal eagle, spill the beans. How did the exam go?” Diesel asked, looking at her with an expectant smile.
A faint smile tugged at Nita’s lips as she mustered the energy to respond. “I survived. There was this one question about commercial leasing that I think I messed up, but honestly, I don’t even care.”
Diesel chuckled, her laughter filling the car with a much-needed burst of energy. “Commercial leasing, huh? That’s ironic, considering what I’m about to tell you. Brace yourself, Nita. The Grunge City Girls have a practice place. And it’s the same as the old practice place.”
Confusion furrowed Nita’s brow, her tired mind struggling to grasp Diesel’s words. “I’m too fucking tired for jokes.”
“It’s no joke. What’s even cooler is it came from an email on our piece of shit website. Apparently, some property management company bought the warehouse from Luke and contacted us as previous tenants.”
Nita frowned, trying to make sense of what Diesel was telling her.
“Grunge City Girls have a website?” she asked, smiling when Diesel looked offended.
“Yeah, we’ve had it for two years, you bullshitter. You harassed me to put your photo on the home page, remember?”
“That pick of me leaping over Death Rider was kick ass, admit it,” she said, laughing.
“You’re missing the point. We have our practice rink back,” Diesel insisted.
“I think Luke is pranking us. Why would he sell the place when he could make bank on leasing it to people who could actually pay him?”
“Because owning a warehouse still has a lot of expenses, and Luke’s a shit business owner,” Diesel explained. “Somebody probably offered him a nice lump sum, and he took it.”
“Okay, but we were never on an official lease. Why would this company call us?” she asked.
Diesel looked blank as she tried to figure that out.
“It’s more like Luke will have someone lease it and have a good laugh at us when we show up in full gear for a practice,” she said.
“No. This sounded like a legit company that wanted us to sign on as their tenant.”
“And what’s that going to cost?”
“It sounded like the first year was free. They said something about the new owner using the purchase as a write-off,” Diesel said, but didn’t sound sure of herself. “I guess it’s possible Luke’s pulling some elaborate trick, but I honestly don’t think he’s smart enough.”
“He definitely wasn’t as smart as he was mean,” Nita agreed with a frown.
“So if it’s not a prank, and he really sold, who knew we were looking for a new place to practice and wanted to help us out?” Diesel asked, pulling out into traffic.
Nita thought about it. The only person she knew who had that kind of money and knew about them needing a place was Kensley.
Kensley, who also felt guilty for talking her into taking the bar exam. Kensley, who also wanted her to join her law practice and might butter up her offer by doing the team a favor.
“Maybe I have an idea,” she murmured, pulling out her phone.
“Oh shit, do you think Mr. Stickman did it?” Diesel asked, her eyes wide. “I didn’t think security paid that much.”
