Page 51 of Gerard
Bernie recognized the man on the left dressed in khaki slacks and a white polo shirt. He’d slicked back his thick blond hair, displaying his model-perfect facial features. Bobby Burns had been a senior when Bernie was a Freshman in high school. As the star quarterback on the football team, he’d been the most popular student in the school. And he knew it.
The other man wore a tailored gray suit with a light blue shirt and graphite-gray tie. With salt-and-pepper gray hair and blue eyes, most women would consider him a silver fox.
Bernie considered him a trespasser and wanted him gone. She frowned and moved up to stand beside Gerard. “Bobby, we have nothing to talk about. I’m not selling Bellamy Acres.”
“Bernie, at least talk with my client, Mr. Jonathon Worthington of Worthington Brokerage Firm. He wanted to speak with you himself and let you know what Grand Bijou’s plans are for this property and those surrounding it.”
“I’ve already spoken to two of his firm’s salesmen.” Bernie held up her hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Worthington. Bobby is wasting your time. I’m not selling Bellamy Acres. Nothing you can say will change my mind.” She started to walk past him.
Worthington stepped in front of her.
Gerard tensed beside Bernie. “That’s one,” he murmured beneath his breath.
Bernie shot a glance at her Marine. His jaw was tight, and his fists were clenched.
“Ms. Bellamy,” Worthington said, “I understand this was your husband’s heritage. Land that has been in his family for over a century. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired and need a shower.” She stepped to the side.
Worthington stepped in front of her again.
Beside Bernie, Gerard murmured. “Two.”
Worthington continued, “Grand Bijou Resorts is poised to sink a lot of money into Bayou Mambaloa. Positioning the resort here will create hundreds of jobs at the resort as well as for the businesses throughout the town.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s nice. But it won’t be on my property.”
The man’s brow dipped. “We understand that when the boat factory closed, the town lost its major employer, and people had to leave to find work. Building a Grand Bijou Resort in Bayou Mambaloa will revive the town, the economy and keep young people from leaving.”
Bernie sighed. “Look, Mr. Worthington...”
He smiled. “Please, call me Jonathon.”
She didn’t want to call him anything as she wouldn’t be seeing him ever again and didn’t want to get to know the guy.
“Look, Mr. Worthington,” she said, holding onto her temper by a thread. “I heard this exact sales job from Bobby, verbatim. Now. Read my lips. Bellamy Acres. Is Not. For Sale.” Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer until she was practically nose-to-nose with the man. She poked her finger into his fancy tie. “And if you, or anyone else, hurts another one of my animals or tries to sabotage my property again in any way, I’ll find you, and I’ll make you pay.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Worthington raised his hands and gripped Bernie’s arms. “I’m not threatening you. You’re threatening me.”
“Three,” Gerard said. He moved around Bernie, grabbed Worthington by his tailored lapels and jerked him away from Bernie. He shot her a quick glance. “I know you can handle this, but he hit my limit.”
She fought a smile. “By all means. He’s not listening to me.”
Gerard glared at the broker. “You should listen to the woman. She’s not selling her place. No amount of sabotage or death threats is going to change her mind. As her bodyguard, if I find you on her property again, I’ll perceive it as a threat, and I’ll do whatever it takes to neutralize that threat, including but not limited to shooting, breaking bones, and feeding the perpetrator to the alligators.” He lifted the man by his suit. “Do I make myself clear?”
Worthington’s eyes were wide, and his face had paled. “Yes...yes, you do.”
Gerard held him there a moment longer and then shoved him away.
Worthington staggered backward several steps. Once he had his balance, he straightened his tie and suit jacket. He looked past Gerard to Bernie. “If you change your mind—”
Gerard stepped toward him, emitting a menacing growl.
Bobbie and Worthington scurried toward a black SUV with a Burns Realty sign affixed to the door. When they were safely inside, Bobbie spun the vehicle around and kicked up gravel as they left Bellamy Acres.
Bernie laughed. “Did you really growl at the broker?”
Gerard’s lips twitched. “I wanted to hit him, but he would’ve had to swing first. The growl wasn’t as satisfying as plowing my fist into his face, but it did release some of my anger.”