“And the paintings?” he asked, indicating the canvases leaning against any stretch of empty wall space.
“Those are Jack’s. They’re what I brought you to see.”
Gavin nodded and began making his way around the walls, inspecting each piece individually. “They’re landscapes,” he said after a moment.
“I think you’re right,” Brenne breathed. “My brother used to paint in a hyper realistic style,” she said, pointing to a framed landscape that hung over the mantel of the fireplace. “But recently he’s gone more abstract. It looks like he’s been painting up a storm lately.”
“These are magnificent,” Gavin said, taking out his phone and snapping pics of the canvases. “Where has your brother shown?”
“Shown?” Brenne shook her head. “He hasn’t shown anywhere. I suggested we hang some paintings up around town at local businesses but Jack didn’t think it was a good idea.”
“That’s a shame.” He stopped in front of a canvas that was mostly red. “This is the barn, isn’t it? I want to buy this one.”
“You’ll have to talk to my brother about that. But first, let me tell him how much you make an hour so he knows to overcharge you.”
Gavin laughed, turning to face her. “Please do. And I’m going to give him the name of a gallery owner in Manhattan. Your brother could make a fortune with these.” He took a few steps closer until he was standing less than a foot away. “Have you ever been to Manhattan?”
Brenne laughed loud enough to snort. “Me? Manhattan? I’ve barely been out of Texas. Oklahoma doesn’t really count for much.”
“Another shame,” he said, capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You were meant for something more than this,” he said, his voice low and assured. “Someplace with movie theaters and galleries and Thai food and a million other enticements to explore. Why don’t you come back with me?”
Brenne started. “Come back with you to New York City?”
Gavin nodded. “Or San Francisco. Or Hong Kong. Anywhere you wanted to go, really.”
“That’s quite an offer,” she murmured, not sure what else to say.
Gavin closed the distance between them, putting his arms around her waist. “I’ve been going it alone for too long, I think. It’s about time I had someone by my side.”
Brenne knew this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. Gavin was talking about taking the next step. It was time to gently prod him away from Whiskey River. He’d just given her the perfect opening. All she had to do now was put her plan into motion.
But she couldn’t. She could see in his eyes that he was about to kiss her, and she wasn’t ready for that again. So she took a step back and let out a breath. “Supper will be on the table any minute, and we don’t want to upset Mama May by being late.” Brenne softened her words with a sweet smile, and Gavin nodded.
She took his hand and led him back toward the big house. Her mind ran laps around them as they walked, considering what he’d just proposed. I could see the world. Visit places that people always talk about. And with Gavin at my side, I would want for nothing.
Billionaire Gavin Jeffries had just offered her what most people would consider a dream come true.
So why don’t I want to take it?
CHAPTER 33
ALEX
Miranda Everheart’s office looked much as Alex had expected. Everheart was the director of the county planning office, a municipal functionary whose office sported the same large white desk calendar as countless others. The same muted pastel artwork, the same In and Out boxes, the same ancient computer. But the woman behind the desk wasn’t anything like he’d expected.
On the drive over, Jameson had been explaining his surprising complex relationship with Ms. Everheart. “She’s the bane of my existence,” he’d muttered as he drove. “Except for when she’s on my side. It ain’t often, but sometimes she’s got a useful tidbit of information or two.”
Alex had been friends with Jameson practically since birth. They were both the eldest siblings, and they saw the world in a similar way, for the most part. He knew there was something behind the vitriol in his friend’s voice. He’d expected to find an ancient harpy behind the desk, the type of county worker who didn’t like to actually work and would rather stymie you with paperwork than actually help you.
Miranda Everheart was nothing of the sort. He could tell from her efficient mannerisms that she got stuff done. And as for being a harpy, she was probably the prettiest municipal official he’d ever come across. What is Jameson’s problem?
“Mr. MacAllen,” she said in an officious tone, “what can I do for you and your friend today?”
“This is Doctor Alex Parsons,” Jameson said by way of introduction. “He’s a small business owner and his family owns a three-hundred-acre farm next to ours. We’ve come to talk about IG’s development plans.”
“Well in that case, prepare to be disappointed. I don’t have any information on their plans. They’ve yet to announce their green headquarters selection, although I’m beginning to think they’re saving the news for Earth Day in April. It only makes sense.”
“Let me be the one to give you information, then,” Jameson said, standing up to circle behind her desk. For a moment, Everheart looked alarmed, but then Jameson pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it on her desk.
“This is a copy of a map documenting the land around the MacAllen ranch. As you can see, this is the Parsons property. And up here, that land used to belong to Mike and Karen Hough. But it has recently changed hands.”
Jameson leaned in closer, his voice dropping and a measure of menace entering his tone. “Can you guess who the new owner is?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. MacAllen,” Everheart answered with a hint of testiness. “I’m not the county records clerk.”
“I can tell you because he’s been eating his dinners at my house for a few weeks now. Gavin Jeffries is the new owner of that plot of land.”
She looked up at him, surprise writ large on her features. “Gavin Jeffries? Or Instant Gratification?”
“Gavin Jeffries is Instant Gratification,” Jameson shot back, his frustration obvious. “He’s already started buying up land, and it’s next to our properties.” His finger swung out to indicate Alex, then bent back to himself. “Who do you think is going to be the next victim? And you’re sitting in this office and doing nothing!”
“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it, Mr. MacAllen. We’ve been over this before. The governor backs the project, and although I’ve been working with my team on strategies for sustainable development, we can’t mount a protest over the legal acquisition of the property. Do you think the sale was done under duress, or that there were any nefarious means being employed by the folks at IG?”
“No,” Jameson grumbled, retaking his seat. “I had a conversation with the Houghs myself after my realtor friend dropped the news. They wanted to sell.”