My Beautiful Neighbor (The Greene Family #1) - Piper Rayne Page 0,30

be a great pairing.”

George looks at my father again. There might be three other people on this committee but my dad and George run things.

“We’ll take that into account.” George looks around. “Anything else?”

My gaze falls to my sisters Mandi and Posey in the front row. One runs a B&B and the other runs Fringe, the haircutting salon. I always joke that the brewery should team up with Fringe for a night. But no one gets a choice. The committee decides and lately, they’ve enjoyed more absurd than perfect pairings. Hence Bakey Cakey and Chuck’s Meatmarket being paired up for the last one.

“Meeting adjourned.” George slams down the gavel, which I’m pretty sure isn’t really needed but he uses it only because he loves doing it.

I head down from the panel and get hung up with Mandi asking me whether the brewery has any more of the peach flavored beer available for her. It was a best seller last year at her B&B.

After they pack up, Clara comes over and brings Presley with her. “Presley, this is Mandi and Posey Greene.”

They all shake hands, briefly discussing their businesses.

“Sorry about Nikki,” Posey says.

So far it’s been like a Presley Knight biography this week on Nikki’s show.

“It’s better not to listen,” I say.

“I’m fine.” Presley sets her gaze on me. She almost has this look like she’s daring me to try to break her. “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Congratulations,” I say, trying to turn the conversation to happier matters.

“Thanks.” She straightens her computer bag on her shoulder. I’d usually volunteer to take it from her, but I get the sense she doesn’t want me to help her with anything. “I’m assuming it’s no thanks to you. Four to one.” She raises an eyebrow.

Mandi purses her lips to stop from smiling, and Posey watches with rapt attention. My two stepsisters, who would love nothing more than to see me get schooled by a woman.

“Why do you assume it was me who voted no?” I ask.

She tilts her head. “Let’s not play games.” She turns to Mandi and Posey. “It was really nice meeting you. Maybe we could talk about including some promotional materials in each other’s businesses.”

“Definitely. I keep a small library of books in my B&B, so let’s talk,” Mandi says.

They all say their goodbyes, and Presley turns to me last. “Bye, Cade,” she says as though she doesn’t want to be polite, but good manners have been instilled in her and are just a part of who she is.

“Great presentation. Sweet dreams, Presley.”

She gives me a seething glare and turns around, quickly heading out of the building—almost as if she’s running away from something.

I’ve sold the final sewing machine, and once it’s out of the store, I finally feel as though things are coming together. After discussing with a few people around town who I should hire for the renovation work, it’s unanimous that Hank Greene is the man. He’s got a team which I’m hoping does not include a Greene family member spending time with me all day while I get the place looking like a bookstore.

A knock sounds on the back door. Since I’m expecting Hank Greene, I open the door without looking, wearing my overalls and sneakers, a bandana around my head. Not my finest look by any means. But it’s not Hank Greene, rather his eldest son, Cade.

“Sorry, my dad tried to call you,” he says with a grin.

I dig into the front pocket of my overalls for my phone. Shit, I had it on silent. There’s a notification that I have a voicemail.

“Thanks.” I move to shut the door, but he puts his foot in, stopping me. I open the door back up. “What?”

“My dad asked if I could measure a few things. It’s in the message.” He walks in with a tape measure in his hand. “It won’t take me long.”

There’s that scent again. The scent of him. The one that makes me want to release all the anger I have toward him while he fucks me against the wall. Oh God, what is wrong with me? The man is probably hoping I’ll fail so he can get this building for a steal.

“Do you work for your dad?” I ask.

“I’m not on the payroll if that’s what you mean.” He doesn’t even look at me while he measures the front window and jots down notes on a pad of paper. “He just needs to know the specifics so he can order what you