Out of Focus #SYTYCW15 Top10 Finalist! [COMPLETED]

12| Deal

"Five minutes, Ms. Turner," he said, holding up a single finger as he returned to the head of the conference table. "That's all you get and not a second longer." She moved on stiff legs, knees locked for fear of buckling, and joined him at the table. Taking the seat to his left.

"Lavender Cottage was passed over to you ten years ago," she said, tucking in her legs beneath the gleaming stretch of Brazilian hardwood. Polished to such a pristine finish she could see her face clear as a mirror.

"I see you've been speaking to the locals," he said, unbuttoning his blazer as he lowered into the plush chair. "Yes, for ten years. But it has always belonged to my family, Ms. Turner."

"Its run down. Neglected."

Declan moved a shoulder. "Maybe I'm sentimental."

Setting down the file folder on the table, Eva set linked hands in her lap to hide their tremor. "And how many tenants have lived under its roof since then?"

Those steely black eyes narrowed. "I hardly see-?"

"Please. Humour me. How many?"

Declan sighed in thought, pursed his lips. "A dozen, or so."

"You say that you're holding on to Lavender Cottage because of family and legacy, but you've done nothing to maintain the property. To care for it. Don't you think that Mabel would have wanted to see it in the hands of a loving family? Not passed over, again and again, to strangers?"

He flinched at the mention of his grandmother's name. Pained by the memory of it. Of her. There was a deep, deep chasm here, Eva realized. An emotional labyrinth she didn't know or have a map to negotiate.

"Look," Eva said, shifting in her seat. "I could pick up and move anywhere else on the island. But I've had three years of constant moving. Constant." She drilled a finger atop the table, driving her point home like a nail through wood. "I know what I'm doing is presumptuous and unorthodox, but the truth is, Mr. MacKenzie, we need this. Lavender Cottage is home. To me. To my girls. And I will move heaven and Earth for them."

Declan pursed his lips, drew the file towards him, thumbed it open and lowered his gaze to the numbers.

Worrying her hands in her lap, Eva bit down on her lip until she tasted the salty tang of blood. After an incalculable length, those eyes slid back up to her. Giving nothing away.

"Alright, Ms. Turner. Let's talk." Easing back, Declan crossed an ankle at the knee. "You're right. I don't give a shit about the cottage. Not that it matters, or is any of your business, but I have history there. The only reason why I haven't raised it to the ground is because doing so would have broken my grandmother's heart. And even though she's ten years gone, I can't-won't-disgrace her memory."

Falling silent again, he stroked a hand across his chin. "I've held on to it all these years out of duty, but its tainted for me. Full of old ghosts. And the damn thing hangs around my neck like an anchor. I'll sell it to you on a couple of conditions."

Too scared to breathe lest she jinx the moment, Eva's fingers bit into the cushioned seat and she held her tongue.

"You've got a sizable sum here. An impressive figure. And a good start. I'll give you eight weeks to come up with the rest." Reaching for a pen from his inner breast pocket, Declan scrawled out a number, turned the page around and pushed it towards her. Eva looked down at the figure and her belly clenched. He'd dropped the price by a staggering amount, and brought the price point below what she knew the smallest home on her street had sold for last month.

"Lavender Cottage is worth more than that," she whispered.

"Market value, yes," he agreed. Dark eyes glittering. "But that's what it's worth to me. Covers what I had to pay out in clearing the lean against the title, and probate fees when I inherited. I think my offer is fair."