Well Built (Book Boyfriend #3)(6)

Her idea to expand her family's store to include more handcrafted items from local vendors-such as organic cheeses, breads, seasonings, and even maple syrups and jams and jellies-had been well received by the town, and she loved the thought of supporting local artisans in the community. Her concept had been a daily farmer's-market-type offering of goods that were gourmet and unique and would give shoppers the opportunity to purchase specialty items all in one place, rather than having to travel thirty miles or more to a big-box store. And as large as the building next door was, it would have given the market itself room to grow, as well.

So much for any of that.

"I'm really sorry," Claire said, her tone sincere. "I know losing the building is tough on you, but you have to know it's not your fault."

She appreciated her friend's sympathetic words, but they didn't make her feel any better. "Maybe it is my fault," Ella said, expressing the fact that she'd been second-guessing herself all night. "Maybe I should have been more prepared for someone else to bid on the building. At least have taken out a larger loan to have more money in reserve, just in case." God, hindsight was such a bitch.

"Who would even want to own that ugly building?" Claire said with a small laugh. "I mean, other than you, of course."

"That's exactly what I thought, and look where that got me. Absolutely nowhere." She opened a side drawer and withdrew the bottle of ibuprofen she kept stashed there and tapped a few of the tablets into her palm. "What could Kyle possibly want with the building when he hasn't lived here for the past ten years? It's hardly the kind of investment any shrewd or savvy developer would be interested in." She tossed back the headache medicine, washed the pills down with water, and prayed for relief, and soon.



       
         
       
        

"Now that's the two-hundred-and-twenty-five-thousand-dollar question, isn't it?" Claire drummed her pink-painted fingernails on the arm of the chair, her expression thoughtful. "Bottom line, you want answers, and there's only one person who can give them to you. So why don't you go and get them?"

Ella frowned at her friend. "What do you mean?"

"Go right to the source," Claire said with a shrug. "In this case, that would be Kyle."

Go and confront Kyle? Claire's idea was insane, and Ella quickly shook her head. "I don't know how to get ahold of him. Where he lives or even the name of his company."

A slow, mischievous smile curved the corners of Claire's lips, making Ella immediately wary. "Well, you could head over to the Family Diner and ask his mother those questions, but since I know you'd never do that, let's see what good ol' Google has to say about a Kyle Coleman who lives and works in Chicago."

Before Ella realized what her friend meant to do, Claire leaned across the desk and grabbed her cell phone. Ella quickly scrambled to retrieve it, but Claire sat back in her chair, out of arm's reach.

"Hey, give me my phone back," Ella demanded.

"In a sec." Claire's fingers tapped across the keyboard on the screen, and a moment later she glanced up at Ella with a triumphant grin. "Well, would you look at this," she said in an irritatingly sweet drawl as she read the information she'd found. "Kyle Coleman. Redeveloper at Premier Realty. And there's a phone number and a street address to his office." She batted her lashes in feigned shock. "Who would have thought that he'd be listed on the Internet and so easy to find in this day and age?"

"You're such a smartass," Ella grumbled, though she was smiling.

"It's why you love me." Claire's green eyes sparkled with humor. "You work too hard, you're way too serious, and I keep things lively around here."

"Yeah, okay, whatever."

Ella rolled her eyes, but the truth was, if it wasn't for Claire, she'd probably have no real after-hours social life, and she wouldn't laugh nearly as much as she did when she was around her best friend. Yes, she worked ten- to twelve-hour days and rarely took time off, and that's pretty much how it had been since she'd taken on the responsibility of managing the market after her father's stroke ten years ago. It had been the right thing to do because of his limitations, even if it had meant giving up her plans to go to college.

Between her and her self-centered, flighty sister, Gwen, Ella had always been the dependable one in the family, despite the fact that they were "Irish twins," with Gwen being older by only ten months. Ella was the one who never colored outside the lines and always stepped up to take care of everyone else's needs before her own. After their mother had passed away, she'd been the one to take on the task of cooking dinner every night, even though she'd only been thirteen at the time. She'd made sure her father's clothes were laundered, that the house was picked up, and tried to keep her sister out of trouble so their father didn't have to deal with Gwen's numerous acts of teenage rebellion.