Right. Like I stand a chance of erasing the imprint his words leave behind on my scarred heart.
This is exactly how you got into trouble the first time.
He disappears down the hallway Mr. Thomas went without sparing me another glance.
I take a moment to recover before joining Cal and Mr. Thomas on the property walkthrough. Rather than focus on my conversation with Cal, I spend the entire meeting asking the appraiser questions about the house and surrounding land. I try to keep my face neutral and avoid any shady eyes or sneaky smirks. Cal throws strange glances my way through the whole exchange, most likely because he suspects something is amiss with my interest.
You should have kept your mouth shut.
No going back now.
Based on the appraiser’s notes, the house has many issues. From the leaking roof to some termite damage in the basement, the property needs a serious overhaul. The only place that seems somewhat decent is the guesthouse, but mainly because it was built only ten years ago.
I always knew the house needed work, but I didn’t realize just how much until now. It might take my whole life to get to all the problems.
The appraiser scribbles a few more notes on his clipboard before looking up at us. “Bottom line is I doubt you’d get more than a million for the house.”
Cal shrugs. “That’s more than my grandfather paid for the place back when he bought it.”
I glare at him. “There’s no way we are only getting a million for it.”
“You have some serious termite damage, a roof that needs to be completely redone, windows that are fifty years old and desperately in need of being replaced, and enough small renovation jobs to keep a general contractor busy for a whole year.”
“How much would that all cost to fix?” I ask.
“I’m guessing two hundred thousand dollars, give or take on the finishes. Prices can vary if you know some people in contracting that can give you a good deal.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I know some people who would do the job for the cost of supplies if I asked them.” And they would be willing to draw out the entire process for as long as I wanted, which is a win in my playbook.
Cal’s gaze burns into the side of my face. “We’re not going to remodel the house.”
I turn to face him. “Well, we’re not going to put it on the market for a million when most houses around the lake are selling for triple that.”
“Those look like the Ritz compared to this.”
“Then we give this one a little bit of a facelift.”
“With what money?”
I shoot him a look. “Are you pressed for cash all of a sudden?”
He barks out a laugh. “So you expect me to front the money? Of course.”
The appraiser’s eyes bounce between the two of us like he is following a tennis match.
“We can split the costs,” I offer.
“Where will you get those kinds of funds?”
“You can deduct it from my earnings once we sell the place.” Which is never.
If it were anyone else, I’d feel guilty for talking them into this crazy plan, but this is Callahan Kane. His trust fund is padded with enough money to make his great-great-grandkids little baby billionaires one day. Two hundred thousand dollars is nothing for him.
The appraiser shifts his weight from foot to foot. “In theory, she’s right.” Don’t we love to hear it. “The more you invest into a property, the more justified a higher listing price is. Remodeling a unique house like this would increase the profit margin significantly. Especially since there are lots of people searching for turn-key vacation homes in the surrounding towns.”
I gesture toward the appraiser. “See?”
Cal rubs his stubbled jaw. “Since when do you care about profits? I thought you didn’t want to even sell the place.”
“I’m thinking about the future, Callahan. I know it’s hard but try to keep up with me.”
His nostrils flare. “I am thinking about the future. It’s just that my version happens to be a realistic one.”
“Can we sell the house for more than suggested?” I ask.
Mr. Thomas’s gaze swings between the two of us. “Technically speaking, yes. Since the house is paid off and doesn’t carry a mortgage, you can sell it for any price.”
“That’s not a real answer,” Cal grumbles.
“Just because it isn’t the answer you want to hear doesn’t make it any less real.” I place my hands on my hips and stare him down.
Cal ignores me as he turns back toward the appraiser. “How much increase are we talking?”
The man flips through the pages attached to his clipboard. “If you fix the glaringly obvious issues I found with the place, then you can possibly get an extra million out of it.”
I shake my head. “I want to sell for three.”
The appraiser’s face pales. “Million?”
“Sure. If the neighbor down the road who had less land could sell their property for that price, why couldn’t we?”
“Because their house was brand new and had state-of-the-art everything,” Cal answers for the man standing across from me, staring at me like I’ve lost it.
Maybe I have.
I look out the window that faces the serene lake. “We have more land and a better view of the lake. I’m sure someone will be willing to pay three million for it.”
The appraiser tugs at his tie, loosening the knot as if it was choking him. “Well…it’s your choice to sell the place for whatever price you think is best.”
I raise my chin. “Perfect.”
Cal’s eyes narrow. “You can’t seriously think we will find someone who will buy this place for that much money.”
“Of course we can. All it takes is finding the right buyer. Isn’t that right?” I face the appraiser again.
“Technically yes. Although setting the price too high might turn some buyers—”
I cut him off. “Great. That’s all I needed to hear.”
He readjusts his glasses with a huff. In any other scenario, I wouldn’t be so forward and rude, but letting him speak out of turn might backfire on me.
Cal rubs his chin. “Now it all makes sense.”
I peek over at him. “What?”
“All your questions to the appraiser, your insistence on giving the place a facelift, and the reason why you want to set such a high price.”
Well, damn. He figured me out sooner than I anticipated.
13
CAL
I leave Lana in the kitchen while I walk the appraiser out. When I come back, I find she hasn’t moved from her spot by the window that overlooks the lake. Her fingers tap against the counter to the beat of her hum.
I seize the opportunity to take her in without being judged for it. She looks heaven-sent, with the golden glow of the sun surrounding her like a halo, highlighting the warm tones of her hair and the edges of her curves.
Those fucking curves.
Lana is soft in all the right places. Her love of baking and all things culinary has turned her body into a work of art, with hips meant for gripping and an ass meant for worshipping.
Don’t think about her ass.
Too late. My eyes drop, burning a hole into her leggings.
“As much as my ass appreciates the attention, I’d like to get along with my day. I have a ton of work to grade before tomorrow.”