Dream Nights With the CEO (6 page)

Chapter Five

Something was wrong with Bethany. Wyatt wasn’t a man to normally notice such things—after all, he expected the woman to be somewhat distraught when selling majority stake in her business. Wild, sunken eyes and shaking hands were the norm, and he wouldn’t usually let it faze him.

But flush from the success of last night’s work frenzy, Wyatt was humming with excitement. He felt bizarrely powerful, as if with Megan’s help, he could conquer the world. So the movement from complete sync with Megan to the jagged anxiety that was Bethany was enough to jolt him out of his typical distraction.

He glanced at Megan, throwing her a question in a look. She just shrugged, but her eyes were very intent as she watched Bethany pick up and put down a furred…hat pin? What the hell was that? He had no clue except that the woman kept picking it up and stroking it absently, only to suddenly realize what she was doing before dropping it with a squeak. After the third time, she slammed open a desk drawer and threw it inside with an honest to goodness growl.

Again, Wyatt exchanged a glance with Megan, who had started making discreet notations on her iPad. He wondered if she was Googling that strange hat pin thing. Either way, it was time to get down to business. He just didn’t really know how to start with the jittery Bethany.

Fortunately, he had already worked out the process with Megan sometime around 5 this morning. Her job: the soothing compromiser. His job: the hard, cold bastard.

He started the process, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Well, you called the meeting, Miss Clark. What is it that you wanted to talk to us about?”

She frowned at him, her scowl growing cold and furious. Fortunately, that was the perfect time for Megan to step in.

“We know this is hard, Miss Clark. We’d like to make it easier for you if we can—”

“You want to buy this place lock, stock, and barrel. It’s my heritage, the only thing I have in the world, and you want to take it from me.” The words were bitter, thrown out like a gauntlet, but Wyatt would swear there was an undercurrent of hope in there. As if she wanted him to buy the place.

He shook his head, playing his part to the utmost. “Actually, Miss Clark, as I told you before, I can’t afford the repairs to this place. I don’t want to buy it. It’s much too expensive.”

Megan stepped in, her voice as soothing as his was brutal. “But we did mention compromises. Alternative possibilities. And you did call us…”

Bethany’s jaw jumped as she ground her teeth together. “I know I called you. I know what kind of negotiating position that puts me in.”

Weak
, Wyatt silently answered.
Desperate
. So what was going on? Meanwhile, Megan’s eyes flashed him the same question. He had no answer for her, so she turned back to Bethany.

“Did you have something in mind?”

Bethany nodded and flipped over a piece of paper on her desk. Then she pushed it across the cluttered surface. “Here’s what I propose.”

Megan picked it up, scanned it, and released a semi-dramatic sigh before passing it up to Wyatt. He didn’t even have to look down.

“That’s not the way this works,” he said softly. Right on cue, Megan pulled out the first of their three ideas—all printed and pristine. She passed it to Miss Clark.

Bethany took it with shaking hands, then read their proposal. “Unacceptable.”

Wyatt pushed to his feet. “Sorry this didn’t work out—”

“Wait!” Bethany cried. “There’s got to be some middle ground. Isn’t that how negotiations work?”

“Sometimes, sometimes not,” Wyatt said, making sure he sounded cold and heartless. Inside he was starting to feel sorry for the woman. Obviously, something momentous had happened. Three days ago, she’d all but thrown him out of her breakfast room. Worry niggled at the back of his mind. What didn’t he know?

And just like that, Megan was there, smoothing the way. “Of course there’s room for negotiation,” she said in a tone of mild reproof aimed at him. He glanced at her, momentarily worried that she was annoyed with him and not acting. Before he could figure out which, she was talking to Miss Clark. “Obviously something has happened recently. Something has upset you, Miss…can I call you Bethany?”

The woman nodded, her chin dropping in a single dramatic slash.

“It would help if you could give us an idea of what you’re looking for.” Megan set the woman’s paper aside.

“Something a little more realistic,” Wyatt inserted.

Bethany took a long moment. She looked at him coldly, then over to Megan with a little more hope in her expression. She opened her mouth to speak, then abruptly shut it again. Her hand twitched, heading for the drawer with the furred thing, but then she abruptly slapped it back on her desk. A second later she was opening another drawer and pulling out a neat folder.

“This is what Miranda’s Place is worth. Here are tax statements, assessor documents, the improvements I’ve made.” She swallowed as she all but threw the folder at them. “That’s everything.” Then she looked at Wyatt, her gaze disturbingly pleading. “Can you pay me that?”

“No,” he said. He’d seen the bottom line. Megan was paging through the documents, double checking everything, but it really wasn’t important. He didn’t have that kind of ready cash. Sure, he could raise it if need be, but why do that on such a long-shot investment?

Bethany flinched and he feared she was about to burst into tears.

Megan glanced at him. He knew that she was echoing his own thoughts. This woman was desperate, but she wasn’t evil. He didn’t really have it in his heart to gouge her, and with Megan looking at him like that, he knew all this maneuvering was best saved for someone else. Bethany’s control was fraying by the second. For her sake, he needed to end this right now.

So he leaned forward and manually slashed at the numbers on his proposal. Earlier, he and Megan had worked out the worst deal he could still live with, and that’s what he wrote out.

“This is the best I can do, Bethany,” he said softly. “And I mean that sincerely. I’ll get majority control of the property, but I’ll promise these renovations.” Megan pulled out their list and set it on the desk. “We’ll redesign all the marketing. You’ll stay on with a full salary and can continue to live in your third floor apartment—”

“No!”

Wyatt recoiled at her terrified word. “What?”

Bethany swallowed and made an effort to control herself. “I’ve, um, I’m planning on moving out, Mr. Monroe. Living off site. I can…” She shuddered. “I can continue to work here, and I need at least twenty percent ownership. But you can…um, you can rent out the top floor for guests.”

He frowned. “What’s wrong with the upstairs, Miss Clark?”

She flinched again. “Nothing’s wrong with it.”

Now it was Megan’s turn to be cold. “Don’t lie to us, Bethany, or we end this now.”

Bethany blanched but didn’t speak. Meanwhile, Megan pulled out two more printed pages of spreadsheets.

“These are the offers that Mr. Monroe and I worked out. This was our middle offer, and this one was bottom line what we could live with.” She pointed to where the file names were indeed exactly that. “As you can see, he’s just made you an offer even better than our bottom line.” Megan gave him a considering look. “I don’t know why; he appears to be feeling generous. But I won’t let him sign anything until we know the truth. Why are you suddenly so anxious to get out of your only home?”

Bethany shot her a hard look. “I was a lawyer before I inherited Miranda’s place.”

“And if you still wanted to be a lawyer, you’d never have started washing bed linens for a living,” Megan cut in. “What happened?”

Bethany bit her lip, then looked away. In the end, the words came out of her in a grudging half whisper. “This place is haunted.”

Wyatt grunted his disgust. “Yes, we are aware of the local pirate legend. A lovely tale—”

“It’s true,” she hissed. Then she raised her hand. “Well, actually, I don’t know if that’s really true. The whole pirate bit. And frankly, this building has been a host to a dozen different scary or weird things over the years. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Wyatt sighed, uninterested in dramatics. “What
are
you talking about?”

“The upper floor is haunted. I suggest you renovate it, make it over into a Halloween parlor, allow ghost tours or something. Whatever works. But I refuse to be here at night. Look, I’ll take this deal.” She shoved the Bottom Line page at him. “But I’ll only be here during the day.”

Wyatt shook his head slowly. He didn’t know what to think. Part of him was tallying up exactly how much money could be made on a ghost tour or a Halloween Fright Night. Part of him just wanted to give poor Bethany what she asked for because she looked so incredibly unraveled at the moment. The contrast to who she’d been three days ago was shocking. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not without knowing more. It was too big a risk to everything he’d spent the last decade building.

“What happened?” he asked.

Bethany coiled in on herself. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“We’re not here to judge you.” Megan spoke up once again, her voice gentle. “We just want to understand. You can tell us.”

“Look,” she rasped. “I don’t believe in ghosts. Never have. I leave all that weird stuff to the tourists.”

Wyatt nodded. That was exactly how he felt.

“But it’s been getting worse,” Bethany continued. “Noises, cold spots, my things moved around—”

“Weird dreams?” Megan inserted, a note of hope in her voice.

Wyatt jolted, as he turned to Megan. Why would she ask about dreams? Had she been having strange ones, too? His had been off the charts bizarre. But there was no time to ask as Bethany shook her head.

“Nothing like that. But I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep in months, and I’m exhausted.” Her shoulders slumped. “Just spend the night up there. Tonight. Then we can talk about it tomorrow.”

Wyatt stared at the woman, then his eyes hopped to Megan’s. He really didn’t know what to think. He mostly dealt in numbers. All this woo woo weirdness was as far outside of his frame of reference as to be on Mars. But if anyone could have a handle on it, it would be Megan. And so he looked to her. And she looked back at him.

“One night?” Megan asked. “In a haunted B&B? Some people would pay a lot of money for that.”

Bethany cut in, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. “Not me. Look, the haunting seems to be centered up there. In my bedroom. And I’m just not doing it anymore.”

Megan leaned forward, and he could sense her excitement even though she kept her tone very neutral. “I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot.”

Wyatt bit back a curse. She was disguising her interest, but he knew that deep down she was beyond thrilled by the idea of her own otherworldly encounter. As for him, he couldn’t imagine anything more unsettling than waking to a bloody spirit hovering over his bed. Or more ridiculous. It was all crap, but that wouldn’t stop Megan from rushing to the experience. And since they did have to check it out, he gave a slow nod. “We’ll spend the night on the third floor and reconvene in the morning.”

Bethany looked both relieved and anxious. “But…you have to know that there’s only one bed up there. You will have to…um…share.”

Oh. Hell.

Meanwhile, beside him Megan trilled a too-high laugh. “That’s not a problem. I assure you, Mr. Monroe and I are complete professionals. We can share a bed and not have any problem at all.”

Wyatt turned to look at her, feeling a little insulted. No problem at all? Complete professionals? What was he, a dead fish? “Right,” he heard himself agree. “No problem at all.”

…

Megan climbed the steps to the top floor, her thoughts churning. Bethany led the way, her every movement steeped in exhaustion. Behind them was Wyatt’s steady tread.

He’d surprised her during the negotiation. Over the years, she’d seen him be ruthless, boiling entire lives down to numbers. No emotion, no generosity. Just cold hard facts assigned a single value. But not today. Something in him had given in to Bethany’s distress. Something had turned kind in him, and she was pleased to witness it. Not that the man had ever been mean. Just callous in the way a spreadsheet is blind to the softer side of life.

But today he’d cut straight through all the drama to a simple offer. They both knew that if he’d just drawn out the meeting, Bethany would have sold the place lock, stock, and barrel for a fraction of its worth. But he hadn’t done that and Megan admired the man for that generosity of spirit.

Plus they got to spend a night in a haunted bedroom!

“Can you tell us anything about the history of this place? Anything you know as fact?” she asked.

Bethany shrugged. “Aunt Miranda—she’s the one who willed the place to me—was a collector of folklore. Anything wild or weird, she was into it. To make things worse, she was a great storyteller—I’ve been sorting through her stuff, but I can’t tell what’s real and what she just made up. It can be cross-checked, of course. Verified some way. But there’s been so much to do just keeping this place afloat that I haven’t gotten to any of that.”

“What about the pirate tale?”

“The essence is true. A very successful ship’s captain came up from New Orleans and built this home. He had a bride, I think. Possibly a couple kids, but I’m not sure. Whether the woman was a Chinese concubine or a local tanner’s daughter, I haven’t a clue. As for a grand passion, there is no evidence one way or another.” Then she pushed through the door and shuddered. They stepped into a comfortable sitting room. There was a television, a tiny counter with a microwave and refrigerator, and a massive reading chair and bookcase. But as comfortable as this room looked, the woman wrapped her arms around herself and her voice dropped to a bare whisper.

“You don’t feel it, do you?”

Megan looked at Wyatt, and they both shook their heads. “What?”

“Cold spot. Every time I walk into the room.” She sighed and looked infinitely sad. “Like the ghost is trying to push me out. This really isn’t my kind of thing.”

The way she said that was heartbreaking, and Megan found herself impulsively touching the frightened woman. No one should feel unwanted. Certainly not in the place she lived.