Maybe it was just his mother’s voice in his head or his Catholic conscience, but he felt an overwhelming need to apologize. He might be a ruthless ass in business, but he didn’t hurt people intentionally. Or he didn’t use to. Had he changed that much?
It was a fine line between shutting down to heal, to survive, without turning off completely. For years he’d danced dangerously close to that line between a man who felt too much and a man who felt nothing.
The people he spent time with didn’t care, weren’t hurt. Business associates were just as hard, and women wanted nothing more than a really good, really expensive time. He didn’t like that he’d hurt Hannah.
Maybe he’d look her up, just a quick phone call, smooth things over. But to what end?
Before he could figure that out, there was one quick knock on his door and Dave entered.
Stephen shook off the personal and shifted his attention to a stack of papers, giving his initial where needed. “What’s up, Dave?”
“I finished up the Lennox deal. It all went down about like we figured.”
“Okay. Send me the file and I’ll look it over.”
“No need to look it over. It’s taken care of.”
“Great.” Stephen raised his eyes to Dave’s. “But I’ll take a look just the same.”
Dave held his gaze for a long second and there was just the slightest ripple of tension. Then it was gone. “I also met up with Stan Goodwin. Had a nice golf game.”
“Good.” It always helped to have positive relationships with the city planner’s office.
“So, what about that new property I told you about? Want to ride out there later?”
“Not today. I don’t have—”
There was a delicate knock and before he said “Come in,” a leggy brunette in a cherry-red pencil skirt and breast-hugging blouse slipped through.
“Hey. Camila.” Dave waved her in. “You’re just in time. Stephen’s going to scope out that area we spoke about earlier.”
Great. Dave was so hot for this, he’d already made noise to their lawyer.
“Sounds fun,” she said with just a hint of the sexy Cuban lilt she dialed up and down at will. “But I came by to go over the Fieldstone documents.” She lifted her leather briefcase.
“Well, ride along.” A satisfied smile spread across Dave’s face. “When we move on this, we’ll need you up to speed.”
“If we move on it,” Stephen said clearly.
“Of course. If. I’ll hold down the fort here.”
“Great,” Camila said. “Besides, I’m starving.”
The feral look in her eyes said she wasn’t just talking about food, and Dave’s smile slipped even as Camila’s grew. She loved nothing more than to know a man wanted her. It was no secret Dave did.
“Come on, Stephen. I’ll read it to you while you drive.” Camila ran a hand over her skirt in a not-so-subtle way of drawing attention to her curves. “Then you can take me to lunch.”
“Fine.” Stephen stood, eager to get moving. He did need to go over Fieldstone. At least it wouldn’t be a total waste of time.
Stephen led Camila to the parking garage and maneuvered the two-seater into traffic. Irritated with the stop-and-start pace, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, grateful when Camila took a call and he could be with his own thoughts.
Twenty-five minutes outside town, the four lanes narrowed to two, the upscale shops and restaurants gradually gave way to clumps of trees and open fields. He couldn’t imagine why Dave was so interested. Even though the city was always expanding and pushing outward, an office building or shopping plaza this far out didn’t make much sense. But he owed it to his partner to at least look.
Dave had held things together when he could barely hold himself together. Even so, he wasn’t willing to put his signature and a huge chunk of revenue into a bad investment.
He glanced down at the scant information Dave had given him while Camila opened another pocket of her briefcase and kept talking. When he reached the end of the road, he made a left, taking them along the backside of the property.
Nearly forty acres, three-quarters wooded with mostly tall pine, the land rolled gently to the northeast corner, where it rose slightly to the highest point. There were no property line markings to show the exact sale portion, but he got the gist. His answer was still no.
Anxious to get back to the office, he made two more turns and picked up speed along the south side. Wide-open fields flew by on his left, his right was dotted with small houses set back from the road. Winter grass trying to turn green, trees pushing out new leaves, horses, cows—Freedom Farm.
The iron gate whizzed past, but not so fast that he missed the small black-and-white sign. Was that Hannah’s place? He’d half heard the name pass between her and his sister. Something Farm for sure.
He slowed and angled off the pavement, before whipping around in a tight U-turn.
Camila grabbed for the stack of papers sliding across her lap. “What are you doing?”
“Just hold tight.” He slowed and turned through the open gate.