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He wandered over to the windows overlooking the city, estimating they were well pasta few inches. More like six if the snow on the ledge was anything to judge by. “Of course, it doesn’t. I doubt much intimidates a hardened businesswoman like yourself.”
“Oh, flattery. Behave, Mr. Ledston.”
Ignoring the obvious flirtation in her tone, he bit back a sigh. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight. The deadline is on Monday.”
“It is, but my client sees no reason to wait until then. He wasn’t too impressed with the lowball offer, Evander.”
“It’s lowball for a reason, Isabella. The work—and funds—required to bring the buildings back to habitable condition is double what I expected. That’s a considerable amount without adding in renovations to modify them to my needs.”
“Yes, well, he’s taken that under advisement.”
He remained silent, sensing there was more to come.
“After a lengthy discussion this afternoon, I persuaded him that you are the best person to sell to. Deterioration of the property aside, it means a lot to him. A sentimental part of his past, shall we say.” Isabella’s tone changed, growing a thin sheen of steel. “While he understands that he has no input into the future of the ranch once it’s sold, he has asked if you’ll be…compassionate with the renovations.”
“In other words, he doesn’t want it turning into a multimillion-dollar eyesore.”
“Precisely.”
“My plans for it aren’t anyone’s business but mine,” he said, chastising her just a fraction with words alone. “However, you can assure him that any and all work done will be in keeping with the surrounding area.”
“Good.” She sighed. “So, down to the money. He’ll accept the flat million, if you agree to cover the legal costs. Knowing you, you already have the paperwork drawn up and ready to sign?”
“I need to make an amendment or two, but yes, my attorneys are on standby to send it over.”
“Efficient as always. The money?”
“Also ready to transfer once the papers are signed.”
“I suggest you put your attorneys to work then, Evander. I’ll be in the office for the next hour or so. With any luck, we can have this wrapped up and finished with by Monday morning.”
Wouldn’t that be nice, he thought wryly. Someone, somewhere down the line, would probably fuck things up and delay the whole damn thing for six months, but he could hope for a speedy resolution. “I’ll get in touch with them now and start the ball rolling. A pleasure working with you, Isabella.”
“I suppose it would be rude to ask if you’d like to meet up with me to celebrate? Somewhere quiet, private?”
“I’m involved with someone, Isabella.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. While I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I’ll have to say no.”
“What a shame. Well, I guess that means I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening.”
The smell of steak was too delicious to resist. Turning away from the window, he noted Eli had set three covered dishes out on the table in the dining alcove. “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
He hung up and strolled across to the alcove, casting an eye over to the now-open bedroom door. Keeping an ear on the situation, fully expecting Callie to have a tantrum, he selected three wine glasses from the cupboard, then walked over to the bar to choose a celebratory bottle of champagne.
Popping the cork on a Krug Clos d’Ambonnay, Evander fired off a quick email to his attorneys, outlining the required changes to the legal papers, and requesting that they send the amended documents as quickly as possible.
From the open door, Eli’s voice rumbled like thunder. A couple of octaves deeper than his usual timbre—Evander recognized it as his friend’s best weapon in his Dominant arsenal.
“…barely eaten all day, Callie. The deadline can wait for an hour while you take a break and refuel. Ah-ah,” he added with a growl. “That wouldnotbe advisable unless you want to double your current tally.”
Her response was muffled, but obviously disgruntled.
“I don’t care. Get your ass out there, little girl, before—”
Callie fired a stream of words at him, much like a toddler having a tantrum, and then there was an almighty cry of outrage. The unmistakable sound of a hand striking flesh through material was clear—six hard smacks by Evander’s count—and then Eli strolled through the door with a laptop under his arm, and a sizeable erection tenting the front of his pants.
