Possessive Best Friend Page 4

  But I don’t think I can do that.

  Two days pass. We text and flirt a little bit, and I’m walking around the manor smiling like a moron. My brother Brent and his wife Amber are home for a visit with my parents, and she notices me grinning at my phone like I want to marry it.

  “Who’s the guy?” she asks.

  I look up, surprised. Amber’s really nice. I’ve liked her since the first time we met, which feels like forever ago.

  “Uh,” I say.

  “Come on. Who is it? You’re smiling at that phone like you want to have its baby.”

  I smile and look away. “His name is Dean. I’ve known him forever.”

  “Rekindling something?”

  “Something.” I shrug a little.

  “What’s his deal?”

  “Uh, well, his dad owns a bunch of car dealerships around here, and he’s opening a car wash. But apparently, he has some permit problem or whatever, I don’t know. But we went to high school together and we saw each other at a party and now…”

  “Now you’re basically flirting with each other over text.” She grins at me. “Right?”

  “Pretty much, yes.”

  “Huh. So how’s it going?”

  “Good, I think. I don’t know.”

  “The beginning is always fun.” She sighs. “I remember the beginning with your brother.”

  “Don’t want to hear it.”

  “Oh, come on. I was going to leave out the dirty bits.” She smiles fondly. “The very, very dirty bits.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “I know.” She grins at me. “Oh, I have an idea. You want to get his attention big time, right?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Why don’t you get him a permit for his whatever?”

  “Car wash.”

  She shrugs. “Yeah, right, his whatever. You guys own this town, right?”

  “Sort of,” I say. “My parents own a lot of it. But we stay out of politics.”

  “I bet if you went down to the permit office and threw your name around, they’d just… give it to him.”

  I frown at her. “Really?”

  “Worth a try, at least. Then you can sort of like… give it to him as a gift.”

  “Huh.” I cock my head and stare at the floor. “Huh. That could… work.”

  “I know. I’m amazing.” Amber sighs and stands. “Or you can go to your mom and ask her to help.”

  We look at each other and both of us burst out laughing.

  “Good one,” I say.

  “I know. I’m also very funny.” Brent calls for her from across the room. She waves to him then smiles at me. “Anyway, see you later.”

  I watch her go, but I’m not really seeing her.

  I’m already planning how I’ll get down to the permit office and how I’m going to charm them into giving Dean what he wants.

  A chime goes off as I step into a dingy, small office. There’s a fan running in one corner and a bored-looking bald man is sitting behind a large desk. He looks up and frowns at me as I step toward him. “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “Yes, miss? You lost?”

  “I hope not.” I give him my best, most charming smile. “I’m looking for the permit office.”

  “You got the right place.” He leans back and puts his thumbs under his suspenders. His white shirt is stained under his arms and his glasses slip down his nose. “What can I do for you?”

  I walk over and smile at him. “I was hoping you could help me out,” I say. “I wanted to talk to you about the new car wash that’s being built.” I know I don’t have to be more specific with him, since there’s no other car wash in town, and not much else is being built.

  He looks surprised. “That whole project is toast,” he says.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry, I suppose I shouldn’t have said that.” He clears his throat. “The Ashman project isn’t going to move forward though, I’m afraid.”

  I slowly sit down in the chair in front of his desk. “Why not?”

  “‘Fraid it’s complicated,” he says.

  “Simplify it for me.” I gave him my prettiest smile and lean forward a bit. I catch his eyes as they flit down to my chest and back up. “Please?”

  “Well,” he says, licking his lips. I feel gross for flirting with him, but whatever, it’s harmless. “Turns out, that land isn’t zoned for commercial use, you see? It’s a whole issue in itself.”

  “Can’t we just… rezone it?”

  He snorts. “I’m sorry, miss,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s just impossible.”

  “What if you gave him the permit anyway?” I ask. “And we’ll get the land rezoned on our own afterward.”

  “That’s not how this works.” He narrows his eyes. “I’m sorry, miss. Do I know you?”

  I shrug a little and look at my nails. “My name’s Lora Lofthouse.”

  He sits up straight. “Excuse me?”

  “Lora Lofthouse,” I say. “I believe you may know my family?”

  “Uh, yes, miss, I know your family,” he says. He’s nervous all of a sudden and not looking at my chest anymore. It’s nice to know my family name still holds some weight. I mean, I figured it would, but I’ve never actually tried to use it around town before.

  “So listen, sorry, what was your name again?”

  “Donald, Miss Lofthouse.”

  “Donald, please help me out,” I say. “This permit would mean a great deal to my family, you understand what I’m saying?”

  He nods and looks terrified. “I do. But the land… it’s not zoned properly…”

  “I’ll make sure the zoning changes,” I say. “Don’t worry about that. I just need a permit written up and issued this afternoon.”

  He stares at me and I smile back. I hope I don’t give the guy a heart attack. I might feel bad about that.

  “I just… I don’t…”

  “Go ahead,” I press. “I’ll wait while you write it up.”

  Slowly, he starts to move, like a statue coming to life. He reaches into his drawer, takes out a folder, takes out another paper, and begins to write something out. I watch him, pretending to be bored, but my heart’s racing like crazy. I can’t believe this is actually going to work.

  Part of me figured I’d come in here, drop my name, make the guy uncomfortable, and get thrown out. So far, everything happened the way I planned… except he’s actually writing the permit.

  I know my family owns most of this town. Not officially or anything, but they own all the buildings, most of the businesses, and employ tons and tons of people at the manor. This town exists more or less because of the Lofthouse family. I know all of that, but up until this moment, that fact has been totally abstract.

  I know this is unethical. I shouldn’t use my family’s name and wealth to get this permit for Dean. But the guy’s already writing it out and… well, I don’t want to stop it. Because it feels good.

  When he finishes, Donald looks up and smiles at me. “Here you are,” he says, tearing off one part and filing away the rest. “It’s official. They can start, ah, building again. If they want.”

  “Thank you so much, Donald.” I say it as prim and proper as I can. I stand and nod at him. “I will see to the rezoning at my earliest convenience.”

  “Yes, miss, please do. Please do. I just… please do.”

  I frown a little. I can tell he’s afraid for his job and I want to say something to reassure him.

  But I can’t. It’ll just be a lie.

  So I turn and leave, waltzing out of there with Dean’s permit in hand. Once I’m outside, I pick up my phone and call him. “I have a present for you,” I say when he answers the phone.

  “Yeah, you do?”

  “I sure do.” I walk down the street, practically skipping.

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll have to come collect in person.”

  “Ah,” he says, and laughs. “If you wanted to hang out, you could ju
st ask.”

  “Shut it.” I’m smiling huge and can’t help myself. “So do you want your present or not?”

  “I very much do.”

  “Good.” I tilt my head. “Come meet me at the abandoned warehouse on Spruce.”

  “You want me to leave in the middle of the workday?”

  I hesitate. I forgot people worked normal hours. “Oh, uh—”

  “Kidding. Fuck this place. See you in ten.”

  I laugh and hang up the phone. I skip over to the black car that’s waiting for me at the corner and tell the driver our destination. He hesitates, but he takes me there. We park in the lot and he sits there idling, trying not to act like he’s curious about our location.

  I look at my phone until I see Dean’s truck pull up the driveway and into the lot. I hop out and tell the driver to wait as I walk over. Dean kills the engine and gets out, glancing over at my driver. “Look at you,” he says. “Got your own chauffer.”

  “Well, I am rich, remember?”

  “Can’t forget.” He tilts his head at me. “So what’s this about a present?”

  I hold out the piece of paper. He takes it from me, reads, and his eyes go wide.

  “Lora,” he says.

  “I know, I know. It’s nuts. But it was really easy to get. I just went into the office, dropped my name, and boom. There’s something about having to rezone the area or whatever, but I’ll just get my mother to do it, or maybe one of my brothers, they like that sort of thing.”

  “Lora…”

  “Don’t be mad,” I say quickly. “I just wanted to help. I hope you’re not upset. I didn’t mean to—”

  He reaches out and pulls me against him. He pulls me into a tight hug and holds me close against him. I relax and hug him back.

  “I appreciate it,” he says. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to use you for this.”

  “You didn’t do anything. I did it all on my own.”

  “Yeah, I see that.” He sighs and shakes his head. “All you had to do was drop your name, huh?”

  “Yep. Can you believe it?”

  “I absolutely can, yes.”

  I laugh and grin up at him. In the background, the warehouse looms empty and foreboding.

  “I guess I should let you go back to work,” I say.

  He shrugs. “Nah, no rush.” He follows my gaze and tilts his head at the warehouse. “You ever go in there?”

  “What? No, of course not. It was an actual warehouse for most of our lives.”

  “True, but it hasn’t been for a while now.” He takes a step toward it. “Want to?”

  I hesitate but follow him. I glance back toward the car and can just make out the driver watching us closely. I’m sure he’ll report back to my parents, but screw it, whatever. I don’t care.

  We walk around the side. Dean stops at a door and looks back at me. “This one’s never locked,” he says and yanks on the handle. The door opens and creaks loudly, the squeal echoing down the halls.

  “Are we allowed in here?” I ask him.

  “I doubt it,” he says. “Then again, I’m pretty sure your family owns this place. So…”

  “Of course,” I say with a sigh. “Of course we own it. I should’ve known.”

  “Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me down a series of hallways. There are small things left all over, piles of papers, old Coke cans, empty chip bags, things like that. They all add up to a place that once was vibrant and full of energy, but is now just a home for spiders and stray dogs.

  He takes me through a side door and we walk out onto the warehouse floor. I look around at the huge, empty space, and I can suddenly see life again.

  It hits me like a flash. All this space, the concrete floors smooth and barren, the support beams holding up a corrugated tin roof. I can see people moving through here, laughing and smiling.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I start and shake my head. “Fine. Sorry. I was just… never mind.”

  He frowns and walks into the main part of the warehouse. I hurry to keep up and our footsteps echo in the space.

  “Amazing, right?” he asks. “I mean, I know it’s sad, a lot of people lost their jobs when this place closed. But it’s still amazing.”

  “I agree,” I say. “There’s so much potential here.”

  He laughs. “Only you would look at a big-ass empty warehouse that failed once and see potential somehow.”

  I shrug a little and grin at him. “I’m an optimist.”

  “So what’s the potential then?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “But… Something about what you said the other day.”

  “What did I say? I say a lot of genius things.”

  “About how there’s nothing to do in this town.”

  “Hm,” he says, tilting his head. “Are you thinking about making this into a theme park or something?”

  “No, not something so big, but maybe…” I trail off and gesture to one side. “Arcade over there. Batting cages over there. Go-kart track over there. Skating rink over there. That sort of thing.”

  He smirks at me. “So like an indoor fun park. Have you ever been to a place with batting cages before in your entire life?”

  “Nope,” I say. “And I’m proud of that fact, thank you.”

  “But you’re right that people would want something like that. I just…” He trails off.

  “What?”

  “I just don’t know if there are enough people in Loftville to make it worthwhile, you know?”

  “Sure,” I say with a shrug. “But the surrounding towns could come too. I wouldn’t keep them out.”

  “Oh, yes, of course, their money is good enough for Lora Lofthouse.”

  “Truly.” I walk toward the center. “Come on, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” he says. “And we’ll never, ever do it.”

  I pout. “Why not?”

  “It’s just too big. And plus, I have a car wash to manage.”

  “Good point, but I don’t.”

  “Listen, if you want to turn this place into some kind of fun park, I will do everything I can to help you.”

  “Good boy, that’s what I wanted to hear.”

  He grins at me and shakes his head. “You’re no different, you know that?”

  “I know,” I admit. “I’m an old dog. Can’t learn new tricks.”

  “I doubt that.” He steps over to me and grabs me by the hips. I laugh and try to get away, but he grabs me tighter and pulls me against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, unable to help myself. The kiss lasts a while, just us and the echoes of our breathing.

  The kiss breaks again and I tilt my head. “I should go,” I say.

  “Of course you should.”

  “You have to work, remember?”

  “Oh, right. That old thing. Like you know anything about working.”

  “I know plenty about work. I see other people doing it all the time.”

  He laughs and steps away. We hold hands as we leave the warehouse, but the image of the indoor park doesn’t leave my head when we step out into the daylight again.

  “See you later?” he asks.

  “Yep. See you later.”

  “And thanks again for the permit. I hope it didn’t get anyone in trouble.”

  “Me too, but don’t worry. I’m a Lofthouse. We run this joint.”

  He grins at me, starts his engine, and drives off.

  I get into the back of the car and tell the driver to take me back to the manor.

  6

  Dean

  I walk into my father’s office early the next morning and slap the permit down on his desk. He looks surprised and frowns at me as he stares at the paper. “What the hell’s this?”

  “Permit,” I say. “Read it and weep.” I sit down and lean back in the chair, grinning at him.

  He picks it up, frowns, reads it, then looks at me. “Who’d you bribe?” he asks.

&nb
sp; “Nobody. Lora Lofthouse got it for me.”

  “No kidding?” He narrows his eyes. “I thought you weren’t friendly with that girl anymore.”

  “She’s back in town,” I say, brushing his tone aside. “But now we can get back to building.”

  “But you used a Lofthouse to do it.”

  “I didn’t use anyone,” I say, annoyance spiking. “She knew I needed a permit and used her family name to get it for me. I didn’t ask her for a favor.”

  “But now you owe her.” He pushes the permit toward me. “Rip it up. Forget about the fucking car wash.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He shakes his head. “We’re not owing that fucking family anything. Rip it up.”

  I grab the permit and stand. “No,” I say.

  He frowns. “Rip it up, Dean. Do you really want that family to own you, too?”

  I shake my head. He’s disliked the Lofthouse family my whole life and never approved of my friendship with Lora. I’ve always kept her away from him, because I’m afraid of what he’ll say to her. But I thought he’d gotten over that stupid grudge.

  Clearly, he hasn’t softened one bit. If anything, he sounds even angrier than I remember.

  “You told me that if I can get a permit, the car wash can be mine. Well, I got the permit. You gonna back out of your promise?”

  “Wasn’t a damn promise and I’m not doing anything the Lofthouse family wants me to do.”

  “All right,” I say slowly. “Then I’ll do it without you.”

  He laughs. “How?”

  “I’ll buy you out. How much did you sink into the project so far?”

  “You can’t buy me out. First of all, I’m not selling. And second, you can’t afford it.”

  “I have credit. Go ahead, tell me.”

  “Thirty thousand so far,” he says.

  I don’t flinch. “Perfect. I can cover that in cash then.”

  He shakes his head. “Dean—”

  “This is my project now,” I say, my voice angry. “I’m not letting you take it away from me just because you have this petty little grudge.”

  “It’s not petty. The Lofthouse family isn’t your friend.”

  “Lora is,” I say. “I’ll write you a check. Email me all the info.”