in her. She might well be the worst negotiator he’d ever dealt with. And for some damn reason, he found it endearing.
For his own self-preservation, he’d have to get over that feeling fast.
“Where did all your money go?” he asked. “You must’ve gotten a hefty settlement from your rich husband.” He gave her a slow up-and-down look, taking in her faded jeans and worn jacket. “It’s obvious you didn’t spend it all on shoes.”
“Very funny,” she muttered, and followed his gaze down to her ratty old boots. After a long moment, she looked up at him. “I know what you must think of me personally, but I’m too close to the edge to care. I just need a loan. Can you help me or not?”
“What’s the money for?” he asked.
She pressed her lips together in a stubborn line, then sighed. “I need to expand my business.”
“If you’re selling me all your formulas, you won’t have a business left.”
“I can always come up with new recipes. My Taylor James brand is going strong, growing more profitable every day. And my new Redhead line is popular, too.”
“Then what’s the money for?” he asked again, slowly, deliberately.
“I need to upgrade my equipment. I need to hire some help. I need to develop a sales force.” She sighed and stared at her hands. “I need to make enough money to take care of my grandfather.”
He frowned. “You mentioned Angus earlier. Is something wrong with him?”
It was as if all the air fled from her lungs. Her shoulders slumped and God help him, he thought he saw a glimmer of tears in her beautiful brown eyes.
“He’s been to the hospital twice now. It’s his heart. I’m so worried about him. He runs out of breath so easily these days, but he refuses to give up his goats. Or his scotch.”
“Some things are sacred to a man.”
“Goats and scotch.” She rolled her eyes. “He insists that he’s hale and hearty, but I know it’s not true. I’m scared, Connor.” She ran one hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “He needs medication. They have a new drug that would be perfect for someone in his condition, but we found out it’s considered experimental. The insurance won’t cover it and it’s too expensive for me to pay for it.”
Connor frowned. This wasn’t good news. Angus Campbell was one of the sweetest old guys he’d ever known. Connor and his brothers were first inspired to make their own beer while watching Angus at work in the Campbell family pub. That brew pub had been on Main Street in Point Cairn for as long as Connor could remember. Growing up, he and his brothers had all worked there during the summer months.
Then five years ago, Angus lost his beloved wife, Doreen. That’s when Maggie’s mom sold the pub to the MacLaren brothers. Angus insisted that she move to Florida to live with her sister, something she’d been talking about for years. But that left Angus alone with his goat farm, though he got occasional help from the neighborhood boys. This had all happened during the time Maggie was living back east with her rich husband.
Now Maggie was back home and the only family she had left in Point Cairn was her grandpa Angus.
Connor made a decision. “I’ll pay for that medication.”
“We don’t need charity, Connor.”
Her words annoyed him at the same time as he admired her for saying them. “I’m not talking about charity, Maggie. Call it payback. Angus was always good to us.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But he’s almost eighty years old. There’ll be lots more medication in the future, along with a hundred other unexpected expenses. I need cash going forward to get my brewery up and running. That way, I’ll be able to generate enough funds of my own to pay for Grandpa’s health care needs.” She started walking, pacing the confines of his office as if she couldn’t bear to stand still any longer. “I’ll also be able to hire some workers for both me and Grandpa and maybe make a few improvements to the farm. I’m looking to arrange a business deal, Connor. A fair trade, not a handout. And I need to do it right away.”
“What happened at the bank?”
“I expected them to come through, but they turned me down. They explained that with the economy and all...” She gave a dispirited shrug.
Connor had been watching her carefully. He had a feeling there was something she wasn’t telling him. Why wouldn’t the bank loan her the money? Even though she was divorced, she must have received a hefty settlement. Her beers and ales were kicking ass all over the state, so she had to be considered a good risk. Was she hoarding the settlement money away for some reason?
And another thing. She and her grandfather owned at least a hundred acres of prime Marin farmland that would make excellent collateral for any bank loan.
She might not be lying to him at the moment, but she was holding back some information. Connor would pry it out of her eventually, but in the meantime, a plan had been forming in his mind as they talked. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he rarely was, it would be the answer to all their problems. She would get her money and he would get something he wanted.
Call it restitution.
“I’ll give you the money,” he said.
She blinked. “You will?”
“Yeah.” He hadn’t realized until Maggie showed up today that he still harbored so many ambivalent feelings for her. Part of him wanted to kick her to the curb, while another more rowdy part of him wanted to shove everything off his desk and have his way with her right then and there.
He thought she had a lot of nerve showing up here asking for money. And yet he also thought she showed guts. It was driving him nuts just listening to her breathe, so why shouldn’t he pull her chain a little? Just to settle the score.
“What’s the catch?” she said warily.
He chuckled. Once again, she’d thrown him off base. She should’ve been doing cartwheels, knowing she’d get the money, but instead she continued to peer suspiciously at him.
“The catch,” he explained, “is that it won’t be a loan. I want something in return.”
“Of course,” she said, brightening. “I’ve already promised you the Taylor James formulas.”
“Yeah, I’ll take those formulas,” he said, “but there’s something else I want from you.”
Her eyes wide, she took a small step backward. “I don’t think so.”
“Take it or leave it, Maggie,” Connor snapped.
“Take or leave what?” she said in a huff. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It seems I need a date.”
“A date?” she scoffed. “You must know a hundred women who would—”
“Let me put it this way. I need a woman
