Beautiful Distraction(163)

Silence, then, “Brooke, the decision has been made. Leave it at that.” His tone was sharp, leaving no room for discussion.

“But—” I brushed my hair off my face. This was the real Jett Mayfield. The one that did as he pleased. But hadn’t he said he hired me for my attitude? And did he not tell me he believed in me and in my talents? Wasn’t that the reason why he entrusted me with the case in the first place? “It’s too much, Jett. You’ll be in the red. Trust me on this one.”

He let out an annoyed sigh. “We need to get this deal, no matter what.”

“But…you’re risking losing millions and I don’t understand why. The place is not worth that much money.”

“You don’t need to. I’m giving the all clear and it’s happening. That’s my final word. Anything else I can do for you, Brooke?” He was brushing me off like an annoying fly. My temper flared, and I threw my hands up in exasperation. Jett Mayfield was stubborn, I got that, but unless he had a pretty good motive for moving forward with the acquisition, his obstinacy was unfounded, and I was hell bent on making him aware of it.

“I was a realtor before you hired me. And a pretty good one, you said so yourself.” I paused, waiting for his reaction—any reaction—but it didn’t come. So I continued. “The airport is only an hour away, meaning there’s bound to be some noise. The view is stunning but it’s just one lake. You’d have to divide the waterfront land into ten, which doesn’t leave much space for spreading out your beach towel, let alone go water skiing and sailing, and what else rich people do. It’s a mistake. It’s far too—”

He cut me off. “Brooke.” He wasn’t listening. How the hell could I make him pay attention? I began to type furiously on my computer, opening accounts to quote examples of asking prices so I could finally drive my point home. I wasn’t willing to give up. Not in this matter. I wasn’t going to lose the company forty million and risk sending them into a large black hole.

“I’m paying out of my pocket,” Jett said so low, I wasn’t sure I heard him right.

My hand froze over my keyboard as my brain fought to grasp the meaning of his words. He had that much money in his back account? And he could part with it just like that, in the blink of an eye? I knew he was rich, but I never realized to what extent.

I shook my head in disbelief at how easily he could throw money out the window. It was his money, and he had a right to do with it as he pleased, but still. There was no guarantee he’d make a profit. There wasn’t even a fifty-fifty chance he’d earn his investment back. He was more likely to make a loss than if he tried his hand at gambling.

“But why?” I tried to control my voice as I tried to rack my brain for the best reason. “You’re acquiring a potential murderer’s estate.”

“My father wants it. Thinks he can make a fortune in Europe. I have no choice.”

“Does he know you’re spending this much money?” I don’t know what made me ask that question. Probably my desperate subconscious clinging to any possible argument that could change his mind. The longer we talked this over, the more he might be inclined to change his decision. Regardless of whether our relationship lasted, I cared about him enough to try to stop him from making stupid mistakes. And buying this place was a mistake, whether he wanted to acknowledge it, or not.

“Does he know, Jett?” I asked again.

He still continued to hesitate, and in that instant I had my answer.

“Oh. My. God,” I said, burying my head in my hands. “You haven’t told him.”

“My father wants this estate and I’m getting it for him. Apart from you and my lawyers, no one knows how much I’m paying and I’d like to keep the actual price undisclosed,” Jett said. “Look, I wish I could explain but can we do this another time? I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow and then we can talk some more.”

“But—”

He cut me off again. “No, Brooke. I’m in a meeting and the clients are waiting. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” I whispered, but the line was already dead. I closed the file and locked it away in my cabinet, my mind circling around the grave edge in Jett’s tone.

The strain in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe he was stressed, or maybe worried. Either way, he was being stubborn about the whole situation. For the first time I wondered whether there was more to that estate that Jett didn’t tell me.



***



I arrived at the café with ten minutes to spare and parked near the entrance where I could both keep an eye on my car and make a fast exit if need be. It didn’t surprise me that the place was empty. Most people were either still at work or stuck in rush hour traffic. Signaling the barista to take my order in a few minutes, I slumped into my usual spot at a four-seat table and fished out my cell to place it on the table so I wouldn’t miss an important call or text message.