You. When the woman in question has starred in your X-rated fantasies for the last eleven years.
No doubt his intense scrutiny would raise her ire. Chances were slim the hotheaded cowgirl had mastered the art of curbing her tongue.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You are Full Circle Consulting? And Western Property Management?”
He tried—and failed—not to look smug. “Afraid so.”
“Not only are you my expert consultant, you’re my landlord?”
“I thought you might be surprised.”
“Surprised? Try shocked. Dismayed. Completely and utterly crushed. Talk about unreal. Could my life get any worse at this moment?” She held up her hand. “No. Please. Don’t answer that. I cannot believe I pinned all my hopes on this…” Her voice broke and she turned away.
He waited, but Keely didn’t toss out a barbed parting shot. She didn’t do anything at all.
Damn. Why was he disappointed? He hadn’t prepared for her immediate admission of defeat. He’d anticipated verbal sparring. Sad that he’d actually looked forward to going head to head with Keely. Her insults were lightning fast and usually funny as hell—even if he refused to admit that to her. “Look, surprise factor aside, can I ask you something?”
Keely offered him a bad-tempered shrug.
“Did Carter send you to me for help with this project?”
“No. Carter doesn’t know I’ve bought this building.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because it’s my deal, okay? I didn’t want interference from my brothers. Ditto for my parents, my aunts, my uncles and two billion cousins.”
“Doesn’t the McKay family handbook clearly state you all have to tell each other everything?”
His attempt at humor fell short when Keely flicked him a dour look. “Go ahead and call Carter. Laugh with him about his clueless little sister. I should be used to it by now.”
Her retreat into silence disturbed him. He waited for her to speak or to lash out or something.
But minutes ticked by and nothing passed through her compressed lips but angry puffs of air.
Finally, Jack said, “What’s really going on here? No bullshit charm, Keely. No insults. No half-truths.”
Keely sagged against the wall. “Buying this crappy old building was the first step of turning my dream into reality.”
“What dream?”
She studied him to gauge his sincerity. Apparently she found something that allowed her to offer an explanation. “My dream has been to open a physical therapy clinic with enough space to eventually expand into a full-service healthcare center.”
Jack was taken aback. And a little impressed. “Really?”
She nodded. “Rural healthcare sucks, especially out here where it can be a hundred miles between towns of any size. For the last four years, I’ve worked my ass off saving money to open my own rehab clinic. Dr. Monroe has referred her repetitive injury patients to me and she promised if I got the place up and running, she’d open a satellite office here. So, I’ve been moonlighting at the VA in Cheyenne for the cash and the practical experience. At some point, I realized this building was ideal. Not too big. Not too small. Centrally located. Perfect, right? Still, I knew my brothers would try to talk me out of buying it because it needs so much work, but there’s just something about this forgotten place that speaks to me.
That’s why I didn’t tell them. They wouldn’t get it.”
He recognized Keely’s frustration at having a vision no one else saw or understood.
“I wanted something that was just mine. I wanted to do it my way, with my money, and my ideas. But this clinic would benefit everyone, not just me, so it’s not about my ego but about me wanting to help people.” Her eyes searched his, almost frantically. “Haven’t you ever wanted to prove yourself? To be different or do something different from what people expect of you?”
“Of course.”
“So I was feeling cocky that I’d pulled it off. Everything was going miraculously well. The real estate broker kept quiet. As did the banker. I thought I’d jumped through all the proper hoops. Imagine my surprise when I learned I can’t change a freakin’ thing on the building that I now own without the step-by-step approval of some damn committee.”
Welcome to his world.
“Oh, and on top of that, I have to hire a qualified expert, already certified by the committee, to oversee the remodeling process. So the specialist can reassure the committee that my contractors aren’t destroying the ‘unique and key’ elements that make it a historic building.”
Jack dealt with the pros and cons of rebuilding versus restoration every damn day and it never got easier. Or clearer.
“This place was— is—in absolute disrepair. Know what’s asinine? The committee would let the building fall to ruin rather than allow me to make desperately needed improvements that don’t meet with some—” she gestured wildly, “—obscure set of rules. Which was why I contacted Full Circle Consulting.”
“Lucky me,” he drawled.
“I had not a friggin’ clue you owned the company or trust me, Jack, I never would’ve called you.”
“I’m deeply hurt.”
“Don’t give me ideas,” she warned.
“Did you try another company?”
“They turned me down. The project is too small and they’re too busy. The other companies I found aren’t certified in Wyoming. It could take up to a year for the official certification process, provided they actually give a damn about becoming certified in Wyoming—which most don’t.”
“Look. To be honest, it’s not about the money. I don’t have the time—”
“For a small-potatoes project like this? You could’ve saved yourself some of that precious time and called me rather than driving up here from Colorado. Or was the prospect of seeing my disappointment too big a temptation to resist? Did you rub your hands with glee at the thought of crushing my dreams?”
“Keely, just listen—”
“Don’t you dare try and placate me, Jack Donohue.”
“I’m not. What was the name of the other company you contacted?”
“BDM Incorporated. They’re based out of Chicago. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?
I’m screwed.” She spun on the bootheel and disappeared around the corner.