Page 20 of That Conflicted Feeling

“That’sCarly.Myassistant.Andbest friend.Theone who did the artwork on the bus.”

Ijump again as her head reappears between the beads.

“Oh, she’s back,” saysMax, recoiling.

“Forgotto say,Poll.Iheard the figs might come early this year.”Shecan barely keep a straight face.

“Iheard the opposite.Morelikely none at all.Probablya total fig drought.”I’llkill her. “Anyway, thanks for the update.Goodnight.”

“Night,Poll.”Shewaves atMax. “Goodnight,ManInSuit.”

“Goodnight,WomanInScarf,” he replies, slightly puzzled.Heturns to me. “Isshe a bit odd?”

“Abit.Butshe’s also the best.Anyway,Ihave to go.Whatdid you want?”

Hetakes a breath and looks at me thoughtfully. “Ithought about what you said about the possibility of a newYellowBarnaffecting your business.Andyour livelihood.”

Well,Ihadn’t expected to get through to him that quickly.Howdelightful that he’s so open to input.Maybehe is kind of hot after all.

“AndIwanted to make you an offer.”

“Anoffer?”Thatmight have been a little loud.

“Yes.”Helooks around the room, sizing it up. “Icould buy your shop.”

Oh, no.He’dbetter not be doing this.

Ifold my arms and hold them tight across my chest to stop my hands from shaking. “Youcouldwhat?”AndIdon’t care if that’s too loud.

Therubber ball bounces against the inside of my rib cage this time.Butnot for any reason that’s good.

“AndIcould sweeten it a bit.”Hesmiles like this is the most normal, casual thing in the world for him. “Youknow, to give you enough to tide you over.Whileyou figure out what you want to do next.”

So, he assumes he can buy me off, and that’s that?I’mdealt with?

Redhot fury boils up from my toes and burns my face.

“Oh, no.”Oneof my arms has unfolded itself andIseem to be waggling my finger at him. “Oh, no, you don’t.Donot do this.”

Heshrugs.

“Okay,Icould sweeten it alot.Thenyou’d have a comfortable buffer zone before you needed to earn anything again.”

Ican’t look at him.Ican’t look at the perfect lips and the perfect hair and the perfectly kissable neck.

Itake a step back and turn away.ButIcan’t let him get away with this.Ispin around to face him again.

“Hell, no.Youdo not get to show up in my town and my shop, expect to buy me off, then build a giant monstrosity of a glowing yellow store, and waltz out again leaving a trail of lives ruined behind you.Oh, no.”

Ifanyone took my blood pressure right now, their machine would short-circuit.

“Thatsounds a bit dramatic.”Heholds out his hands.Oneof them gave me tingles the other day.NowIwant to slap them both away. “Iwas only—”

“Isthis what you always do?Someoneopposes you, so you wave a bunch of money at them and they disappear?”

Ican’t listen to this.Ican’t listen to another rich asshole who thinks they can waltz into my life, drive a bulldozer through it, and waltz away again.

“Well, you can’t buy me,”Isay. “I’mnot for sale.AndI’mgoing nowhere.”