Chapter Fourteen
J axon knew he needed to get on with his life. Talking with Ivy last night was wonderful, but not fair to her. He’d almost kissed her. Just because she listened. Was he so hard up for female companionship that the first sympathetic ear caused him to move in for a kiss?
Lame.
Ivy didn’t know he was leaving. He’d almost told her before Montgomery flew off like a shot. He needed to be honest, but every time he tried to break the news that he was selling the building, something intervened.
He ran a hand over his face. All that would have to be sorted later because he had overslept and was late for his breakfast meeting. Derrick Cross was not a man accustomed to waiting.
Cross was key to his escape from Hazard. They’d agreed to meet at the diner before heading to the Realtor’s office to finalize the details of the sale. They also had much to discuss pertaining to his new job at the Boston office. But first, breakfast.
Jaxon entered the diner to a smaller crowd than usual.
The large crowd, apparently, was across the street at the tea shop. A young waitress with dark hair and deep-set eyes, that he recognized as Pedro’s sister, offered to seat him but he waved her off when he spotted Cross in a booth studying the menu. Jaxon paused. Derrick Cross looked out of place sprawled on the worn upholstery of the booth, his height and long legs ill-suited to the cramped seating. Despite his posture, his outward appearance was otherwise impeccable. Dark hair cut in an austere style, he wore a suit and radiated professionalism, even as his dark eyes flicked over the menu in decided displeasure, his lips turned down in a grimace. Jaxon slid in across from him.
Derrick put down the menu and frowned. “You’re late.”
Jaxon raised a brow and glanced at the clock over the counter which read eight a.m. exactly.
When the waitress hurried over, Jaxon ordered huevos rancheros while Derrick launched into a complicated order of eggs over-hard, bacon extra crispy but not charred, fresh fruit instead of potatoes, and then groused over their lack of dark rye. Jaxon chuckled at how precise and detailed Cross was over breakfast.
At Derrick’s glower, he hid his laugh with a cough.
Really, if the man was this particular about breakfast, what would he be like to work for? The thought was sobering. Still, he wouldn’t report directly to Derrick at the Boston firm, would he?
Jaxon shoved that concern aside for later consideration. They were here to talk about the sale. This was a personal sale for Derrick, not part of the Boston firm business at all.
Jaxon suddenly found himself reluctant to discuss it. He wanted to talk about the job instead.
“This town.” Derrick shook his head.
“Don’t you like it?”
“I want to improve it. You must admit it needs help. A beautiful location with potential, but the buildings need updating.”
“My building’s in great condition.”
“I want to buy up this entire section and would in a hot minute.” He snapped his fingers. “Long past time to bring it into this century. This whole town is destined to fall into disrepair, unless someone takes a hand. That inn, for certain. I would have turned it into offices.”
“Really? Instead of an inn?”
“Much better business plan. It wouldn’t need as much updating. I made an offer, but was outbid. They accepted the other offer before I could counter. The new owner will need to add extra plumbing for each of the rooms. You know the old inn only had one shared bathroom on each floor. That won’t work in today’s hospitality market.”
“I heard it was once a boarding house and before that an orphanage.”
Derrick nodded. “And before that, the site of the British occupancy in the American Revolution.”
“You know a lot about the history of the town.”
Derrick grimaced. “The people of Hazard lack business sense. All these mansions? Like they could ever hope to compete with Newport. It’s delusional. And this diner?” Derrick waved a hand. “That kitchen hasn’t been updated since the 1950s.”
“I don’t know.”
“If I owned this? I’d gut it, clean it up, and lease it to a chain. Bring in a restaurant people recognize.”
“And my building?”
Derrick eyes shifted. “I’m paying market value. You’ll be able to move on and be a valuable asset to the firm. We can use an architect of your experience for our development projects.”
None of what Derrick said answered his question.
But should it matter? The man was right. He would move on. Hazard would be a spot in his rearview mirror. It’s what he said he wanted, to leave this town behind along with the unpleasant memories of his failed marriage.
Only a month ago, he couldn’t wait to shake the dust of Hazard off his feet.
Now?
“So we’ve decided on the price. Before the sale’s finalized at the end of May, I want another look at the building. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” said Jaxon, inwardly cringing at the thought of Ivy finding out this way. Why hadn’t he told her before? What had he been thinking, delaying like this?
Breakfast arrived. The special was amazing; Jaxon didn’t think he could have made a better choice. Derrick found fault with every bit of a breakfast that appeared fine to Jaxon. He sent his toast back as burnt, and his bacon back as undercooked. The eggs were apparently fine, but the fruit? Derrick railed at the number of grapes in it.
Jaxon held his tongue, but really it was just breakfast, a single meal. What was the big deal? It cut into their time to talk business.
After breakfast, they strolled to Jaxon’s building. How would Derrick behave toward his tenants? Starting closest to the diner, they popped first into LaFleur. Today the flower shop was packed tight with product. Glass shelves shone under track lighting, inviting customers to browse for the perfect gift. China and crystal vases abounded. Two employees at the back counter busily arranged flowers, one a bouquet of a dozen pink roses and the other a complicated centerpiece of sunflowers and lilies. The refrigerated glassed-in section teemed with beautiful blooms of every color and variety. The shop smelled earthy and floral all at once, the best garden on earth.
None of it pleased Derrick Cross. Jaxon was glad Lydia wasn’t there. Derrick asked what the current monthly rate was, and Jaxon told him. More frowning. Derrick inspected the front window for leaks after last night’s rain, but Jaxon had installed new energy-efficient glass only the year before.
Next, they moved on to the tea shop.
Derrick frowned at the crowd in Ivy’s shop. Like too much business was a bad thing? A busy tea shop meant the tenant could pay the rent.
Ivy gave Jaxon a friendly wave as she served customers. Derrick peered up at the ceiling tiles as if looking for flaws, but Jaxon knew there weren’t any. He kept his property in good repair. Fortunately, they didn’t stay.
Next, they stopped into the bakery, and Derrick almost relaxed upon seeing the short line. He scrutinized the floor tiles this time and Jaxon wondered why. He’d replaced them a mere six months ago. Absolutely nothing was wrong with the building. Not a single thing. Jaxon made sure of it.
It was as if the man wanted it to be falling down, seeking any excuse to raze it to the ground and start over.
But Jaxon’s building was part of the charm of the square. It was older, sure, but it had character and housed a collection of successful businesses that supported the economy of Hazard.
“Tell me again your plans for the building?”
Derrick turned and exited swiftly. As they headed toward the salon, he quizzed Jaxon about the leases and any other disclosures he might want to make. It annoyed Jaxon. He’d remained totally up-front about the building, its condition, his current income from it. That was how he did business: up-front, transparent, honest.
It was why he got the job with the new architectural firm. It was what they claimed they liked about him. But his new boss, Harrison Shrift, was not like Derrick Cross, at least Jaxon hoped not. If he had to report to Derrick, he didn’t think he could last long at the new firm. And selling to Derrick and then learning he’d mistreated his tenants would be an issue for Jaxon. He didn’t know how he could work for someone who treated others badly.
When they left his building and crossed to the realty office on the corner of Hazard and Main, Derrick began chatting up the receptionist. He exuded fake charm and that just grated. Jaxon had liked selling his building better when he’d had no contact with the buyer. But his situation was unique. His buyer would be a new coworker at best and at worst, his boss.