Amy Vastine - The Hardest Fight

Elizabeth scowled while Dylan restrained himself from chuckling. Lucy was sassy as ever. The assistant dragged in a couple of chairs and apologized as she shoved them into the already cramped space.

“Let’s just get right to it, shall we?” Elizabeth asked.

“Let’s,” Lucy answered, taking a seat on Ms. Clayton’s side of the table.

“Obviously, we’re interested in purchasing the property you own on Western,” Elizabeth said with a wave of her hand.

Lucy’s expression gave nothing away, but her counterpart swallowed hard and began to fidget. Ms. Clayton was the key to the success of this deal. Dylan had done his research. The board was split. There was one vote to win over and that member would be swayed only by the executive director.

She was nervous, possibly anxious to get to the bottom line. How much was Prime Developments willing to pay? Open Arms couldn’t deny they needed the money. There were signs of financial trouble everywhere Dylan looked. From the broken door when they walked in, to the duct tape holding one of the chairs together, it was clear there weren’t extra funds for the little things.

“Are you making an offer?” Lucy asked.

As Prime’s legal counsel, Dylan had been invited to this meeting to help with negotiations. He saw it as a chance to show off his ability to read people. It was a talent, really. A skill that came in very handy when interviewing witnesses or figuring out how hard to push someone with relevant information. Not only could Dylan tell when someone was lying, his powers of observation allowed him to appear as if he was able to read their minds. It was the same tactic that so-called psychics used to convince people they were talking to their dead relatives. These tricks had served him well in his career and helped him dodge a few bullets in his personal life. That girlfriend in college who was cheating on him only got to cheat once before she wasn’t his girlfriend anymore.

Dylan could read everyone. Everyone except for Lucy. The woman was a complete mystery. He never knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers, which was what had drawn him to her in the first place. Her mind was a fascinating place when she let him in. Lucy was smarter than most people assumed.

Lucy wasn’t going to stop him from making a good impression. If Dylan could help Prime get this property, he would prove himself to everyone at his firm, especially his boss, who just happened to be his mother. Their familial relation didn’t give him any advantage in pleasing her. Results were all that mattered to Clarissa Stevens-Hunt. So, whatever it was that Lucy thought, it wouldn’t keep the board from taking Prime’s offer if Dylan had anything to say about it.

Elizabeth held out her manicured hand, waiting for Dylan to place the offer he had drafted in it. “I think you will find our offer more than generous.”

Dylan wouldn’t call it generous. It wasn’t nearly what the property was worth, but it was surely enough to entice a needy organization such as this one. He watched as Elizabeth’s assistant slid copies of the offer across the table. Ms. Clayton passed hers off to Lucy without even looking at it. Obviously, it was too tempting. Lucy was the one who would do the negotiating, of course, because she was the tough one.

She had been Dylan’s biggest competition in law school. He had thought she hated him when they met. Turned out she had been more interested than she’d let on. They had dated the last year of law school and for two years after that. Dylan had believed she was the One, and everything she had said and done told him she felt the same way. That was how he had learned about the tiny glitch in his superpower. She had broken his heart without any notice. Actually, she’d ripped it out, stomped on it and driven over it with a steamroller just to be sure she’d done the job thoroughly. She was tough, all right.

“Generous?” Lucy questioned with a tilt of her head after reading the offer. “I’m guessing you assumed we were too busy ‘do-gooding’ to have done our homework.” She folded the piece of paper in half and set it in front of her. Ms. Clayton glanced at it but didn’t pick it up. “The members of the board are educated businesswomen. This is insulting.”

Elizabeth uncrossed and recrossed her legs. She ran her tongue over her teeth, a sure sign that Lucy had struck a nerve. She took a breath before replying. “We aren’t looking to offend anyone. What would it take to get your interest?”

“We aren’t interested in selling,” Lucy answered, but Ms. Clayton bit her lip. The director clearly wasn’t as sure as the legal advisor.

“Well, not all of us are interested,” Tanya Robbards, one of the board members, corrected. “Yet.”

It was Dylan’s turn to negotiate. “We aren’t here pretending we don’t know the predicament Open Arms has found itself in. Surely, you understand that if we wanted, we could wait a few months until the house goes into foreclosure. What we’re offering you—” he pointed at the folded paper, hoping Ms. Clayton would simply look at it “—is a chance to continue to do your work in this city.”

“We don’t need your money to continue our work,” Lucy cut in. The cold, level gaze she gave him did nothing to cool the heat that had crept up his neck. He hated that she could get under his skin so easily yet be so unaffected herself.

“You don’t, or Open Arms doesn’t?” he challenged. “If you foreclose on the house, you gain nothing. If you sell, you have enough equity to keep the rest of the organization running smoothly.” He sought to prey on Ms. Clayton’s fears. “You wouldn’t have to worry about losing this place, as well. So many women and children would still benefit from what you do.”

Ms. Clayton’s gaze drifted back down to the paper and the offer she hadn’t even seen yet. Her fingers tightened around the arms of her chair. She needed one more tiny push. He gave Elizabeth the sign she had been waiting for, and she went for Ms. Clayton’s jugular.

“Add another five thousand to that number,” Elizabeth said. “I’m sure that will help Open Arms purchase a new house in another neighborhood.”

With wide eyes, Ms. Clayton glanced over at Lucy. Her lip had to be bleeding given how hard she was biting it. She was just about to break and glance at the number when Lucy stood up, snatched the paper off the table and crumpled it up.

“We appreciate that you’re so concerned about keeping Open Arms’s doors open. Perhaps you’ll consider donating. We accept all major credit cards and love it when corporations match an employee’s gift.” She opened the door and waited for them to leave the room.

“I suggest you carefully consider what we’re offering,” Elizabeth warned.

“Safe Haven is very important to this agency,” Sharon Langston, another board member, replied. “We’ll be in touch if we’re interested.”

“We promise,” Lucy added.

“Ah, you say that, but do you really mean it?” Dylan asked. She had made promises to him in the past, like she would love him forever and wanted to change the world with him. She hadn’t meant that , now had she?

She didn’t answer. Her expression was pained. Again, he couldn’t tell what that meant. Did she realize how badly she had hurt him five years ago? Did she feel any remorse?

“Well, you have thirty days,” Elizabeth said. “After that, the offer will be off the table for good. Then, like Mr. Hunt explained, we will simply wait for it to foreclose.”

Elizabeth and her team all stood and exited the office. Lucy seemed to be holding her breath as Dylan approached her. He, on the other hand, took her all in. She still smelled like lilacs. The lilac bushes that edged the front gate of his greystone always made him think of her in the springtime.