AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Um, yes, I am. Can I help you?” I said slowly.
“Declan Tierney,” he said, holding out his hand.
I looked at it for a second before giving in and shaking it. “Charlotte O’Neil. What can I help you with, Mr. Tierney?”
“Please, call me Declan.” He smiled.
It was the kind of smile that made me want to call him something other than Declan.
Like dickhead.
“That bed and breakfast. I own Tierney Construction Ltd, and I’ve been looking at it for a while. It’s in a rough condition, but it’s still worth a hell of a lot with all that land. Would you consider selling it?”
Jesus Christ, my grandpa hadn’t even been in the ground for twelve hours yet, and this man was already trying to snaffle my inheritance off me.
And, huh. Tierney Construction. I knew all about their shoddy business practices. They were in the news every other week for their new builds falling apart like they were made of cardboard and PVA glue.
Seriously. I’d made school projects with better staying power than their houses.
“You do know this is my grandfather’s wake, don’t you?” I asked coldly. “We buried him this morning. This is extremely rude of you.”
He held up his hands. “My apologies.”
He didn’t sound that apologetic.
“Are you aware of the state of the place? It’s falling down, you know.”
I glared at him. “That’s quite the exaggeration. To answer your question, no. I’m not planning on selling it.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.” He sighed and reached inside his jacket. He produced a small brown envelope and held it out to me. “Perhaps that’ll change your mind.”
Is this dickhead trying to pay me off?
“I sincerely doubt it,” I replied.
“Humour me and take a look, Charlotte.”
“Miss O’Neil,” I corrected him, taking the envelope. It was against my better judgement, but this man was awfully smug. He seemed completely sure that whatever number was in this envelope was going to convince me to sell and, okay, sue me.
I was a curious cat.
I wanted to know how cheap he thought I was.
I slid out the flap and pulled out the piece of paper.
It was so much money they couldn’t even write a cheque.
Cheapskates.
Either way, nine hundred thousand wasn’t even close to what the property was worth. I didn’t know much about property values, but I wasn’t dumb—the building itself was a bit of a mess, if that wasn’t the understatement of the century, but the land was worth a small fortune.
“Mr Tierney—”
“Declan.”
“Mr Tierney,” I repeated, closing the envelope back up. “Are you mocking me?”
His eyebrows shot up.
