“A dollar a square foot.”
He laughed. “That’s not a budge; that’s a slap in the face. Tell them they need to do better. Much better.” He was staring at the screen, but now, he looked at me. “If they want to close this deal, they need to be realistic. Our financing is rock solid. Our terms are more than reasonable. Remind the agent who we are and what we’re coming to the table with.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
He ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket.
Could this man be any hotter?
Good God.
“What if they say no?” I asked him.
“They won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
A smile moved across his handsome mouth, a determination so strong that it was pulsing through me. “Because the land only appeals to a certain buyer, and organizations like Spade Hotels don’t come around that often. The seller knows that. He also knows we’re his only offer. So, he either plays fair or he goes back to waiting.”
He was quiet for a moment, taking me in.
“Let me teach you your first lesson …” He leaned in closer, his arm briefly grazing my shoulder, my chest melting from the contact. “If the seller’s hungry and money is being waved in their face, they bite.” His voice lowered. “They always fucking bite.”