Page 33 of Forever Yours
“Thanks, Gabe.” Prudence gave Greyson another light punch as she walked away with her mug.
“Worth it,” Greyson explained. “Now she’ll have to punish me later.”
“For fuck’s sake, you don’t learn, do you?”
Greyson winked. “I never have.”
The kitchen timer went off and Annabelle called out, “All right, guys, butts in seats please.”
“Here.” Gabe opened the cabinet drawer and handed silverware to Greyson.
“So, what’s everyone’s plan for today?” Greyson asked as he set the table.
As the group dug in Sebastian said, “Guys call the living room.”
“You call it?” Annabelle sneered. “Can I call dibs on our bathroom later?”
“Yeah, you can’t call a room, Sebastian,” Devlin agreed. “The living room is the brightest, with the best setup for the flow of ideas. Plus”—she gestured to the kitchen—“coffee proximity.”
“Iwaskidding, but now I want the living room.” Sebastian speared a pineapple chunk with this statement.
“The den upstairs has just as much light,” Gabe pointed out. “I don’t care where we work, the guys can be up there.” He shot a small smile to Devlin, who nodded back.
“I was joking too, but I appreciate it,” Devlin acknowledged. “We can switch this afternoon if it makes a difference.”
“No need. Good ideas will come no matter where we are.” Greyson glanced at Devlin. He must have seen her shift in her seat as he added, “Sorry, Dev. It’s not personal.”
“It’s not,” Sebastian insisted. “I could just as easily join with you and give you all my expert advice.”
“None of this is personal,” Devlin acknowledged. “You’ve all become my friends and whatever happens here won’t change that. Now, if we’re all done, I’m ready to get started.”
Chapter Eleven
“So, what you’re saying is that statute fifty-two, bylaw four states that you guys can resolve this with a dance off?” Sebastian’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline as he said this.
“Not in the typical sense,” Gabe tried to explain to Sebastian once again. Of all the things he could’ve forgotten to bring, he hadn’t grabbed his copy of the township bylaws which outlined the convoluted codes for buying a downtown property. “Think more of a 1920’s dance-a-thon.”
Sebastian sat in silence for a moment. “Okay, I am thinking of that, and it still doesn’t help me understand why that would be a legal way to solve a property dispute.”
Greyson, who was lying on the leather sofa, moved his arm off his eyes. “No one knows why.”
“And this is the same building that was the speakeasy?”
“Yes,” Greyson and Gabe answered in unison.
The planning part of the morning so far had had little actual planning. Sebastian, in an apparent attempt to understand the town and its laws better before offering his advice, had been asking question after question, and his frustration increased with each brother’s reply.
Sebastian sat thoughtful for a moment before asking, “Do you think you can out dance Devlin?”
Gabe laughed at the reality of his situation. He’d gone from putting an offer in on the building, to being told he needed to put together a proposal that would beat out the woman he was scared he was falling for, to seriously considering having a dance competition to win.
“This thing is going to drive me nuts,” he said. “It doesn’t help that I forgot to bring a copy of the city codes so I could try to find some sort of loophole that would make me a slam dunk.”
“You shouldn’t need loopholes, Gabe. You’ve got a strong proposal, plus your business has been established for many more years than Devlin’s.” Greyson put his hand back over his eyes and groaned. “I hate talking like this. IlikeDevlin!”
Gabe swallowed past the lump in his throat that popped up every time he started to think about winning. He’d been able to peek behind the curtain that Devlin had kept shut when they shopped for his house and no matter what voice was telling him to be cutthroat about business, a louder, more insistent voice stated that whatever this woman had to show him was far more important than a business expansion. The problem was, he didn’t know which voice to listen to.
Sebastian pulled out his phone. “The city codes have to be on the township website.” He tapped the screen a few times before cursing. “Fuck! I forgot about this whole no reception thing.”