the details.” Phil pushed a pale blue folder toward her, the snowflake polish on her nails glittering. “If these terms are agreeable to you, Cornelia will purchase the property you saw from the owners and you will purchase it from her for the amount stated on line one. To keep everything legal and as simple as possible, your down payment will be one dollar. Your balance will be interest-free with the first payment due September first. You’ll have had five months of cash flow by then.”
Disbelief held Rory’s tone to nearly a whisper. The number couldn’t possibly be right. “The property has to be worth three times this.”
“Oh, it is. And that’s what Cornelia will pay the owners for it. But that’s your price. Of course, there is more to the sale.”
Ah, yes, Rory thought, unable to understand why Cornelia would take such a loss for her. The strings.
“Cornelia has added a few perks,” Phil chose to call them. “She believes the best route to success is to have a good adviser. Since it’s understandable that you’d know little about this particular business and since the Sullivan’s grandson is reasonably acquainted with it, she arranged for Erik to be your mentor for the next six months. He’ll help you with your inventory, suppliers, getting part-time help and whatever else it will take to get your new venture up and running.
“The two of you can determine how often you need to meet, but there will be a status meeting here once a month. Of course, I’m available to both of you together or individually at any time. At the end of the six months, if you’re on track with your business plan, Erik will have fulfilled his mentor agreement, and you’ll be on your own. All we ask,” she concluded, as if she’d rather expected the stunned silence coming from beside her, “is for your discretion in discussing the work we do here.”
Phil sat back, smiling.
Rory couldn’t seem to move.
Poof. Just like that. The property her little boy had fallen in love with that morning—and the business that came with it—could be hers.
The reality of it didn’t want to sink in. Yet even in her disbelief what registered most was that her new life included a man who she strongly suspected didn’t want to work with her at all.
“This Erik,” she said, caution competing with amazement as Cornelia joined them with a tray of tall porcelain mugs. “May I ask the terms of his agreement with you?”
Taking the chair on the opposite side of her, Cornelia passed mugs to her and Phil. “It’s nothing complicated. I just requested that he help you with the business if I buy the property for the Sullivans’ asking price.”
“But why did he agree to that?”
“Because he wants a decent price for his grandparents and I offered him one. He’s been taking care of the property for them, so I also imagine he’d like to be free of that responsibility. I don’t think he begrudges his grandparents his time. He sounds quite fond of them,” she offered, approval in the soft lines of her face. “But he’s a busy man.”
Rory remembered his strong, workingman’s hands, the calluses she’d felt brush her palm. Right behind the thought came the disquieting memory of what his touch had elicited. “He said he builds boats.”
“Oh, they’re more than boats. He and his business partner build world-class sailing sloops. Their boatworks is down past the marina, but their sales and rental office is next door. J.T., one of my stepsons,” she said, identifying Harry’s second oldest, “commissioned one from him years back. He said Erik is the only man he’d ever do business with on a handshake. If you knew my stepson, you’d know that respect for someone’s character doesn’t get any greater than that.”
Her carefully penciled eyebrows arched as she offered cream and sugar. “Did you find him disagreeable?”
Disturbing, yes. Disagreeable? She couldn’t honestly say they’d disagreed about anything. “No.”
“Are you not wanting help?”
Rory shook her head. She’d be a fool to turn it down. “I’m sure he has far more information about how the market is run than anything I can even begin to find on my own.”
The unguarded admission brought Cornelia’s smile back. “Then it’s a win-win for everyone.”
Baffled by the woman, more uncertain than she wanted to admit about her mentor, Rory touched the handle of her mug. “Please don’t think I’m not beyond grateful, Mrs. Hunt—”
“It’s Cornelia,” the woman said graciously.
“Cornelia,” Rory corrected. “But I’m having a hard time making sense of all this. I understand from Phil that you helped someone else when she needed it. But why do you want to help me like this?”
“Because I can,” she said simply. “My Harry gave me a ridiculously large amount of money for a wedding gift. Since I have the means, I decided to make it my mission to offer deserving young women a hand up when the going gets rough for them, or when they just need the right break.
“In your case,” she admitted, “I know all too well what it’s like to be financially strapped and the only parent. My first husband was a dear, but he left me in a real financial bind when he died. I had to sell my home, just as you’ve had to do. And I had to work hard to raise my girls.”
She gave Rory’s hand a pat, drew back her own. “From what we learned about you from your real estate agent—and other resources,” she admitted, making it clear she thoroughly vetted the recipients of her largesse, “I don’t doubt that you’ll do what you must to make it work. Erik has proven himself to be an excellent businessman,” she assured, as the opening door let in the back-up beep of a truck. “I’m sure you can trust him to help you succeed.
“Can’t she, Erik?” she asked the man himself as he walked in.
Seeming oblivious to the way his presence suddenly filled the space, much less to the faint tension leaking from him in waves, Cornelia raised an eyebrow in his direction.
“Can’t she what?” he replied.
“Trust your business judgment.”
“It hasn’t let me down so far.”
The disarming smile he gave Cornelia and Phil seemed to come easily. The wattage, however, lowered considerably when it settled on her. Having met her eyes long enough to make her heart jerk, Rory watched him lower his glance to the older woman’s coffee.
“Mind if I get some of that?”
“Not at all. The pot is fresh.”
His heavy footsteps muffled by the carpet, Erik headed for the coffeemaker in the alcove. Behind him he could hear the elegant matron and the bookish blonde he’d met last week explaining that the paperwork for Rory’s mortgage would be handled at a title company Monday afternoon. Since he had power of attorney for the sale for his grandparents, he and Cornelia had already agreed to take care of their business there that morning.
The Hunt name tended to eliminate delays.
He could hear the low, soft tones of Rory’s responses, but he had no idea what she said. He was too busy telling himself that the next six months
