Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Well. That was a new wrinkle.
I took a drink of water. “She’s aware of this?”
“Yes,” Martha said. “I just told her a few days ago, and she’s quite upset about it. But contrary to what she might think, this isn’t just about me wanting her to settle down and have a family, although I do worry about her being alone. I even tried to set her up with my dentist the other night, but it didn’t go very well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I hid my grin behind my glass.
“I just don’t think she understands the toll it would take on her,” Martha went on. “Not just financially, but physically and emotionally. She’d turn herself inside out for this place, entirely on her own, without any support. And if she failed, what then? She’d blame herself. And she’d have no one there to hold her up.”
Our food arrived, which gave me ample time to process what she’d told me and consider how to proceed. “I take it there’s no spouse on the horizon?” I picked up a quarter of my club sandwich.
“No.” Martha sprinkled a little pepper over her soup. “She had a steady relationship for several years, but it ended last summer. Her fiancé got a job opportunity out west, and she couldn’t bring herself to leave Snowberry.”
“She was engaged?”
“Briefly.” She hesitated. “She was quite hurt when he left. But she wouldn’t go with him.”
“I understand.” I experienced a pang of sympathy for Lexi. Not just because of the broken engagement, but because it didn’t seem right that just because she was single, she wouldn’t be given a chance to prove herself. She could have gone out west with her fiancé, but she’d stayed.
“Are you married, Mr. Buckley?”
“No. My career keeps me very busy. I don’t have a lot of time for a relationship.”
“You sound like Lexi.” Her tone made it clear that was not a compliment. “Pardon me for asking, but how old are you?”
“I’ll be twenty-nine on Sunday.”
She clucked her tongue. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your generation that you wait so long to settle down and start your families. Work isn’t everything.”
“No, but I enjoy what I do. I’m sure Lexi does too. And I can certainly understand her attachment to the place where she grew up.”
Martha ate a spoonful or two of soup. Sipped her tea. Sat back in her chair. “Mr. Buckley, I’ll be frank. There are currently no other bids for Snowberry on the table. I’m too old and tired to continue running the place. I can’t deed it to Alexandra if she doesn’t have a husband. And your client’s offer is generous.”
“It’s the best you’ll get,” I said confidently, but without arrogance.
She dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Would your client conceive of purchasing Snowberry and keeping it open?”
I shook my head, unwilling to mislead her. “No. They’ve made their intentions clear. It would be demolished.”
“All of it? Would they consider leaving a few things in place? Perhaps they could hire Alexandra to run the operations here? Keep ties to the family?”
I hesitated. Black Diamond had been firm on this—I had no room to negotiate. “I want to be completely transparent with you, so I have to say no.”
“I appreciate that. You seem like a trustworthy fellow.” She studied me a little more intently. “Mr. Buckley, I’m inclined to sell. But I really want my granddaughter to be on board, and that may take a little more effort. Lexi has attachments to this place that go beyond simply wishing things could stay the same.”
I said nothing, giving her the space to elaborate, if she wanted to.
“Both her parents died in a car accident when she was nine. Their ashes are scattered along the mountaintop.”
The pang I’d felt earlier became an ache within my chest, a fault line cracking open. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was tragic for everyone—my son and his wife were wonderful people, and I miss them every day. And maybe their loss did contribute to my husband’s reluctance to make changes. Maybe he, like Alexandra, thought that if things looked the same as before, they’d feel the same. Or maybe it was meant to honor them. I don’t know for sure.” Her paper-thin voice wavered. “Grief is very personal.”
“It is.” I cleared my throat and reached for my water, focusing on the icy-cold liquid sliding over my tongue, unwilling to let any buried memories surface just now.
“Anyway, letting go of this place is more complicated for her. She’s holding on for many different reasons.” Her eyes met mine. “And money isn’t one of them.”
“I’d be glad to speak with her, if you think that will help.”
Martha McIntyre sat up taller and beamed. “What a marvelous idea. I’ll give you her phone number.”
I walked out of the restaurant with Lexi’s number in my contacts, but I knew better than to think she’d have a conversation with me over the phone. Even if she answered a call from an unknown number, the second she realized it was me, she’d hang up. For that reason, I decided to take advantage of the fact that I knew where she lived. If she wanted to slam the door in my face, fine—but I felt like I’d have a better chance to convince her of my sincerity if she could look in my eyes.