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“Hold up a minute,” Henry commands.
I bring us to a stop.
He leans back in the seat. “Would you look at that.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He waves a hand. “Not one slanderous sign. Just trees. You did what my lawyer and my fat checkbook couldn’t convince Sloane Parker to do.”
Hearing him speak her name sets unease along my spine. “Have you ever met her?”
“Nope. I’ve seen pictures, though.” A small, knowing smile curves his lips. “Which is why I told you to stay away from her.”
I school my expression on the trees ahead. So, he knows she’s a smoke show. I’m amazed he didn’t try to fuck a property sale out of her back before Abbi came into his life.
“How’d you pull that off again?”
I sense a tone behind that question—that it’s not entirelyinnocent, like he’s fishing to see how honest I’ll be with him. But I learned to always assume Henry knows far more than he lets on. He’s got investigators on permanent payroll.
“It wasn’t that hard, actually,” I begin. How much do I want to tell him? About the negotiation, that is. Definitely not the fucking. If his PI caught me, let him throw down the damning photos. I’d like copies to jerk off to. “I found a weakness, and I exploited it.” It sounds shitty when I say it like that, but I really did help her with all the best intentions. “She had staff she didn’t want to lose to Wolf, and we had more than enough people applying, so I made sure we didn’t clean her out.”
“The Sea Witch. Coffee shop and”—he frowns in thought—“tiki boats?”
And there Henry is, proving my damn point about always knowing far more than you’d expect a busy billionaire to waste his time learning.
“Smart. No fight, the signs are down. Now my wife doesn’t have to come out here and see all her dirty laundry hanging in broad daylight for these fucking reporters to make a meal of.” His jaw clenches.
“Is that why you had an issue with them? For Abbi?” That’s commendable, but I’ve never doubted his love for her.
“Definitely a sore spot, but no. We need as little attention on that property as possible now, with the eminent domain claim coming soon.”
“I’m sorry,what?” Did I hear him correctly?
“Eminent domain. It’s where state officials can claim private property?—”
“Yeah, I know what it is.” Alarm bells go off in my head. “Forthat?” I point at Sloane’s little piece of paradise, with its kitschy trailers and colorful beach house, its noisy-ass rooster. “But I thoughtyouwanted that land?”
“That land. Other land. I tried to play nice.” Henry’s smileis downright wicked. “I havebigplans for Mermaid Beach, and a lot of connections to help make it happen.”
52.Sloane
Frank marches into the rental shop and stops in front of the counter to loom over me like a storm about to erupt. “Just had an interesting conversation.”
This can’t be good. “With?”
“Jeremy, about your run-in with Cody yesterday.”
I groan. “How much did he mention?”
“He told me aboutthat.” He checks over his shoulder, spots Rebel at the coffee, and leaves it unspoken. “But what did Cody call you?”
“Let me see.” I mock ponder, a pen pressed under my chin. “I believe it was ‘a raging bitch.’”
Murder shines in Frank’s eyes. “If he steps foot in here again?—”
“I’ll punch him myself. You know, because I’m araging bitch. That’s what we do.”
He shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”