“You play the bad cop,” she tells me. “I’ll play the good one.”
The dump looks even worse inside. The pervasive smell of dirt and mildew turns my stomach.
“Mr. Emmerson?” Alice calls to no one in particular. No one answers, and my first thought is that the owner bailed on the meeting, but the door was open. Then again, it’s not as if anyone’s going to rob this shit hole even if the door was open and had a neon sign saying Rob Me on it. At last, a grunting man in his fifties comes stomping toward us, wiping sweat off his bald head. He gives Alice a blatant once-over, looking with hunger at her, which instantly gets him on my bad side.
I step forward. “We’re here to see the property.”
The man extends his hand to my sister, and Alice shakes it vigorously before stepping back. “Thank you for agreeing to meet us on such a short notice. I’m Alice, and this is my brother Max.” She sighs dramatically as she scans the room. “Unfortunately, this isn’t quite what I imagined.”
“But this location is top notch,” Sleazeball says.
Putting my hands in my pockets, I pace the dump. “I know the price per square foot in this area. Your asking price is at least forty percent too high.”
&n
bsp; Sleazeball jerks his head back. “I’m afraid you got the wrong information.”
“I don’t. The price you asked for would be fair if we were standing in a decent building. This is a barn.”
“Max,” Alice admonishes in a gentle voice, which is very unlike her but plays well for the good cop method. Turning to Sleazeball, she adds, “I’m afraid my brother does have a point. Revamping this place up would take a considerable investment. I’d say that investment makes up that forty percent you’re overcharging.”
“It’s the only deal you’ll get,” I say calmly. “Take it or leave it.”
The man wipes his forehead, clearly taken aback by our stance. “I need to think about this.”
“Perfect,” Alice says. “Let us know your decision within three days max.”
“We’re looking at two other options,” I add, which makes him snap his head in my direction. “We’re making our decision this week.”
That’s a blatant lie, but I know these people. If you don’t give them a deadline and put pressure on them, it doesn’t work. Alice walks to the window at the far end of the barn/dump and looks out the window at the scenery with hopeful eyes, which means she really wants this place. I have to admit, the location is perfect. Turning on my heels, I catch Sleazeball looking at my sister as if he wants to eat her up. My blood boils instantly. If Alice ends up buying this place, she’ll meet with him again, and I might not be with her. Sure, my sister knows how to kick ass, but she’s vulnerable and a little oblivious to what’s happening around her when she’s passionate about something. Like now.
“If you ever look at my sister like that again, I will shove your balls so far up your ass, you’ll spit them out,” I tell him in a low voice so my sister can’t overhear us.
Sleazeball flinches, because he didn’t see me approach. Then he takes a step back as if wanting to put as much distance between us as possible.
My sister turns around, gesturing at me to head out. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Emmerson. I’m looking forward to hearing from you.”
“I’ll e-mail,” Sleazeball says, his eyes darting between my sister and me.
“We were badass,” Alice says once we’re in the car.
“Very,” I agree. “I bet he’ll write by tonight.”
“Mmm, why did he look as if he was about to shit his pants when we left?”
“No idea.” I suddenly become very interested in a dirty spot on my windshield. As I drive into town, we talk about everything and nothing, and then the conversation veers to Emilia again.
“How long will your therapy last?” Alice asks.
“Four weeks.”
“Wow, that sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“At least you get to spend time with Jonesie.”
“Yeah,” I say dryly. Just thinking about her sends my mind into a tailspin. Damn it. Being friends with Jonesie was one of the best parts of my childhood, but being friends with a grown-up Emilia might just be my most trying challenge yet.