Page 3 of The Last Goodbye

“Will you at least look at the numbers in that file? I also included listings that were currently for sale in Blue Sky Bay, and I’d be happy to negotiate a deal on your behalf.”

A gruff laugh escaped me. “Are you a real estate agent as well?”

“I’m a real estate attorney, and I’m very good at my job.” She tilted her head to the side confidently. Clearly the woman was not lacking in that department.

Again, I glanced at my wrist because I took my job seriously. I needed to get in that kitchen now, or the entire night would be thrown off. “I’ll take a look at it. If I change my mind, I’ll be in touch.”

I pulled the door open, and we stared at each other before I glanced back at the door.

Conversation’s over, sweetheart.

She stood up. “No need to reach out. I’m renting a house here in Blue Sky Bay, so I’ll be stopping in tomorrow to see what you think after you’ve had time to look over our offer.”

I groaned. “How about next time you don’t tell my staff that you’re pregnant with my child.”

She paused in the doorway, and the smell of vanilla and lavender flooded my senses. “How about you act like an adult and agree to see me tomorrow to discuss this further. I’m not just going away, Mr. Bennett.”

Her nearness was almost overwhelming. I cleared my throat and motioned for her to start walking, and I followed.

That was a mistake.

My eyes immediately landed on her perfectly peach-shaped ass, making it difficult to speak, much less breathe.

“And how long will you be gracing me with your presence?” I managed to get out as we stepped through the door behind the bar.

She turned around, a wide grin on her face. “Until you agree to the deal.”

Fuck.

I barely knew her, but I could tell she wasn’t joking.

Briar Sinclair was clearly a woman who was used to getting her way.

“Well, I guess you should look into buying a place then, because it’s not happening. And I need to get to work, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow. And every day after.” She winked before turning around and sauntering right out the door.

“Who the hell is that?” Dean, my bartender, asked, not hiding his interest as he stared at the door she’d just walked through.

“My worst fucking nightmare,” I grumped before making my way to the kitchen.

The woman thought she’d break me down over time, but she didn’t have any idea just how much shit I’d dealt with in my life.

This was nothing.

I could handle a rich real estate attorney dangling a big fat check in my face with my eyes closed.

Game on, Briar Sinclair.

two

​. . .​

Briar

This town was quaint and charming, no doubt about it. The few people I’d passed on the sidewalk downtown waved and smiled as if they knew me. But it was the quiet that was the most notable thing—no horns blasting, no one screaming profanities out of their car windows, and no crowds to maneuver through as I continued strolling along Bay Avenue.

This was a far cry from Manhattan, where I currently lived.