Page 37 of Rookie’s Redemption (Iron Ridge Icehawks #5)

"Mia! Oh thank God!" Zoe's voice is high and panicked. "You need to get to the shelter right now . There are these corporate people here demanding to meet with you. They say it's time-sensitive and they won't leave. I don't know what to do!"

"What corporate people? We don't have any appointments scheduled."

"They won't tell me anything. But they have lawyers with them. And they're wearing really expensive suits!"

I look at Ryder, whose face has fallen as he shoves whatever he was holding back into his pocket.

I sit there in silence, caught between two worlds. Ryder's face tells me he had something important to say, and my heart begs to stay.

But the shelter… It's my responsibility. My life's work. Ryder will understand, won't he?

"We'll be right there," I say, already standing.

"Mia, you don't have to—" Ryder starts, but I can hear the disappointment he's trying to hide.

"Yes, I do. If there are lawyers involved, this isn't something I can put off." I help him pack up the picnic with shaking hands, my mind racing. "I'm sorry. The timing is just..."

"Terrible," he finishes quietly. "Yeah. But you're right. This sounds important."

The drive back to town is tense, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Ryder's hand finds mine , squeezing gently.

"Whatever this is about, we'll figure it out," he says.

But there's something in his voice that doesn't sound entirely convincing. Like he's disappointed I've just ruined what was shaping up to be an absolutely beautiful evening.

When we arrive, the shelter parking lot has three black sedans with rental car plates, and through the windows I can see people in suits moving around inside.

"Corporate people," I mutter, suddenly aware that I'm wearing a cocktail dress and heels instead of my usual work clothes.

Zoe meets us at the door, vibrating with nervous energy. "They've been here for an hour. They keep saying they have a proposal that can't wait."

"They're not the only ones," Ryder mumbles, but when I frown in his direction, he just shakes his head and holds the door.

I push through the entrance, Ryder close behind me, and come face to face with three people who look like they stepped out of a boardroom magazine. Sharp suits, expensive shoes, and the kind of confident bearing that comes from having serious, serious money.

"Ms. Harper?" The woman in the center steps forward, extending a perfectly manicured hand. "I'm Victoria Walker from Walker and Associates Investment Group. Thank you for making time to see us on such short notice."

"I didn't exactly have a choice," I say, accepting her handshake. "You demanded an emergency meeting. Care to tell me why?"

"Because what we're proposing is genuinely time-sensitive." She gestures to her companions. "This is James Walker, my brother and our acquisition specialist, and Gregory Morrison, our legal counsel."

Acquisition specialist?

"Ms. Harper, your recent fundraising success and subsequent social media attention has caught the notice of several investment groups," Victoria continues, pulling out a tablet.

"The story of a small-town shelter raising over one hundred thousand dollars in a single night has been covered by at least three national news outlets. "

I glance at Ryder, who's watching this unfold with frustration evident in his expression.

"Okay. And why exactly are you telling me this?"

"We're interested in taking over the shelter.

Our company is proposing full acquisition of Tails & Paws with you remaining as executive director," James says, stepping forward with a thick folder.

"We've done our homework, and we believe what you've built here could be expanded into at least five locations within two years.

State-of-the-art facilities in Denver, Seattle, Phoenix, and Austin. "

"And where does that leave me?"

"You would remain as executive director," Victoria says smoothly. "Doubled salary, comprehensive benefits package, oversight of all five locations. If you wanted it, that is."

The numbers he rattles off make my head spin. A better salary, facilities that would make my current renovations look like amateur hour, the chance to save thousands more animals than I ever could in Iron Ridge.

"We've prepared a comprehensive offer," David adds, setting the folder on my desk. "But our investors are looking at several opportunities, and we'll need a decision by Friday to move forward."

"Friday?" I stare at the contract, which looks to be about fifty pages thick. "That's three days away."

"As I said, investments like this are time-sensitive." Victoria's smile is perfectly professional. "Ms. Harper, this is the kind of opportunity that could change not just your life, but the lives of countless animals across the United States. I know that means something to you."

Through the pages I can see, I catch glimpses of corporate clauses, brand alignment requirements, relocation expectations.

This isn't just about expanding the shelter—it's about turning my life's work into part of a corporate machine.

"I need time to think," I manage.

"Of course. The full proposal is in that folder, including compensation packages if you choose to take the money and give us full control." Victoria hands me her business card. "We'll leave you to review everything. Call me by Friday with your decision."

They file out as efficiently as they arrived, leaving me standing in my renovated shelter holding a contract that could change everything.

The same shelter where Ryder and I fell in love all over again. Where we built the foundation for whatever he was about to ask me on that hilltop.

Friday. Three days to decide between the life I've built here with him, and the chance to impact animal welfare on a scale I never thought possible.