Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

REMINGTON

The council chair’s gavel strikes once, sharp and final. “After reviewing both proposals, it’s clear the council is at an impasse. However, there’s potential in combining your ideas.”

My stomach drops. What?

Across the table, Lawson Wells leans back in his chair, drumming his fingers lazily against the wood like this is nothing more than a mild inconvenience. Meanwhile, my pulse roars in my ears, drowning out reason.

“You want us to work together?” I ask, unable to keep the disbelief from slipping into my voice.

The chair nods, adjusting his glasses as if this is the most reasonable solution in the world. “Both of your proposals have merit. Remington, your plan respects the historical significance of the property, which this council values deeply. Mr. Wells, your proposal offers a clear path to financial sustainability, something this town desperately needs and Ms. Caldwell’s plan currently lacks. A compromise could benefit both parties.”

Compromise. Right.

I steal a glance at Lawson. He’s too calm—too damn comfortable. It makes me want to scream. Or drink. Maybe both.

The chair clears his throat, giving us both a measured look. “Of course, if either of you would prefer to withdraw . . .” He lets the suggestion hang in the air, as if either of us would bite.

I sit straighter, my spine locking in place. No way am I walking away from this. The Caldwell Inn is more than just a building—it’s my family’s history, the last connection I have to something real, something that matters. And I’ll be damned if I let some billionaire with a god complex turn it into a vanity project.

“I’m not withdrawing,” I say, folding my arms tightly across my chest. “This is my family’s legacy.”

Lawson’s lips curl at the edges, just enough to spark an ache of irritation beneath my skin. “Neither am I.”

The chair nods, satisfied. “In that case, you’ll have two weeks to submit a joint proposal.” He shifts his gaze toward me, sharp and assessing. “Ms. Caldwell, are you certain your bank loan has been approved?”

The lie is out before I can stop it. “I’m sure. I can do this on my own. No need for an investor.”

Not him, at least.

The chair smiles like we’ve just solved all the world’s problems. “Perfect. But still, you’ll need to work together to create a plan that balances heritage preservation with economic growth.”

Two weeks. Two weeks of working with arrogant, hot, and maddening Lawson Wells.

This is going to be a nightmare.

I push through the door of the conference room, the weight of the meeting pressing down on me, but Lawson follows, maddeningly relaxed, like this is all some big joke.

“You look upset,” he says, his voice light with that infuriating edge of amusement.

I whirl around, all the irritation I bottled up during the meeting bubbling to the surface. “Upset? No, not at all. I’m thrilled to spend the next two weeks working with someone who thinks ‘compromise’ means ‘do it my way.’”

He leans casually against the doorframe, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I’m not that difficult to work with.”

“Oh, really?” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you think this whole thing is just a game.”

His grin deepens, as if he finds this conversation more entertaining than it has any right to be. “It’s only a game if I win. If I don’t, it’s just business—and I cut my losses.”

My fists clench at my sides, my nails biting into my palms as I fight the urge to shove him off. God, why does he have to be so infuriating? And worse—why is part of me still replaying the way he looked last night, tangled in my sheets, his grin just as smug then as it is now?

Focus, Remington. Focus on saving the inn, not his damn smile—or the way his shoulders fill out that suit like it was made for him.

“This isn’t a game, Lawson. It’s my life.”

For the briefest moment, something flickers across his face—something real. But then it’s gone, replaced by that same cocky expression that seems permanently etched on him.

“Two weeks,” he murmurs, stepping closer, so close I can feel the warmth radiating off him. “Think you can survive working with me that long?”

I tilt my chin, refusing to let him see how much he’s rattling me. “I survived last night, didn’t I?”

His smile sharpens, full of mischief. “Barely.”

Two hours later, we’re sitting across from each other in the local coffee shop, laptops open between us, the hum of conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine filling the space.

“So, you’re actually serious about the whole ‘historical charm’ thing?” Lawson asks, arching a brow as he taps his pen against his notepad. “Because ‘charm’ doesn’t pay bills.”

I take a sip of my latte, savoring the warmth, and shoot him a look over the rim of my cup. “And ripping out the heart of the place to slap on some overpriced modern design won’t exactly win over the town, either.”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair like he’s got all the time in the world. “You think they’re going to care about the heart of the place when they’re swimming in tourists and tax revenue?”

“Not everything is about profit, Lawson.” I tap a few keys on my laptop, pulling up a list of potential renovations. “This town isn’t just looking for a payday. They want to keep what makes it special.”

“And what makes it special?” He props his chin on his hand, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “The creaky floorboards? The peeling wallpaper?”

I glare at him. “The history. The stories. You know, things money can’t buy?”

He grins, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but sentimental stories don’t cover mortgage payments.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are, working with me.”

I huff a laugh, more at the absurdity of the situation than anything else. “Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

He leans closer, his gaze warm and teasing. “If this goes well, maybe I’ll let you keep some of those creaky floorboards. For nostalgia.”

I shake my head, biting back a grin. “You’re too generous. Really.”