It wasn’t good business to let your opponent know how badly you wanted something. But Sal Torino was no dummy. The King family had made offers for that land several times over the last couple of decades and Sal had always turned them down flat. So, he already knew how important this was to Adam. No point in trying to pretend otherwise.
“I want that land, Sal, and I’m willing to make you a deal that’ll give you a hell of a profit on it.”
Shaking his head Sal took a gulp of coffee, swallowed and sighed. “Adam…”
“Hear me out.” Adam leaned forward, set his coffee cup down on the tray and sat back again, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “You don’t use that piece of land for grazing or pasture. It’s just sitting there.”
Sal smiled and shook his head again. Fine. He was stubborn. Adam could appreciate that. He bit down on the impatience scratching at his insides and forced a congenial tone to his voice. “Think about this, Sal. I’m willing to make you another substantial offer for the property.”
“Why is this so important to you?”
Now we play the game.Adam wished this were all somehow easier. Sal knew damn well about Adam’s quest to make the King ranch whole again, but clearly he was going to have to spell it all out.
“It’s the last piece of the original King family holdings,” Adam said tightly. “Which you already know.”
Sal smiled again and Adam thought the older man sort of looked like a benevolent elf. Too bad he didn’t look like an elf who wanted to sell. “So let’s get down to business here. You don’t need the land. I want the land. Simple as that. So what do you say?”
“Adam,” Sal started, pausing for another sip of coffee, “I don’t like selling land. What’s mine is mine. You know that. You feel the same way I do.”
“Yes, and that parcel ismine, Sal. Or it should be. It started out King land. It should be King land again.”
“But it isn’t.”
Adam quietly seethed with frustration.
“I don’t need your money.” Sal sat forward, set his coffee cup down and then stood up to wander the room. “You know that, and yet, you come to me anyway, thinking to sway me with an argument for profit margins.”
“Making a profit’s not a sin, Sal,” Adam countered.
“Money is not the only thing a man thinks about, though.”
Sal stopped at the hearth, leaned one arm on the heavily carved mantel and looked down at Adam.
Adam wasn’t used to being the one on the defensive in a negotiation. And looking up at Sal from the comfort of a too-soft chair made him feel at a disadvantage, so he stood up, too. Shoving both hands into the pockets of his jeans, he watched the older man and wondered what Sal was up to.
“I hear an implied ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Adam said. “So why don’t you just tell me what you’ve got in mind and we can decide if we’re going to be able to make a deal.”
“Ah,” Sal said. “So impatient. You should learn to enjoy life more, Adam. It’s not good to build a life solely on business.”
“Works for me.”
Adam wasn’t interested in listening to advice. He didn’t want to hear about “enjoying” life. All he wanted was that last piece of land.
“There was a time when you didn’t feel that way,” Sal mused and the smile slipped off his features even as his dark eyes went soft and sympathetic.
Adam stiffened perceptibly. The worst part of living in a small town was having everyone for miles around knowing your personal business. Sal, he knew, was trying to be nice, so he kept a lid on the simmering knot of something ugly inside him. People thought they knew him. Thought they could understand what he was feeling, thinking. But they were wrong.
He wasn’t interested in sympathy any more than he was looking for advice. He didn’tneed anyone’s pity. Adam’s life was just as he wanted it.
Except for owning that damned piece of land.
“Look, Sal,” Adam said slowly, quietly, “I’m not here to talk about my life. I’m here to make a deal. So if you don’t mind…”
Sal clucked his tongue in disapproval. “You are a single-minded man, Adam. And while I admire that, it can also make one’s life harder than it has to be.”
“Let me worry about my life, okay?” That sizzle of impatience he’d felt earlier had begun to bubble and froth in the pit of his stomach. “What do you say, Sal? Are we going to be able to come to an agreement?”
Sal braced his feet wide apart, folded his arms across his chest and tipped his head to one side, studying Adam as if looking for something in particular. After a long moment or two, he said, “We might be able to strike a deal. Though the terms I have in mind are somewhat different than you were expecting.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Simple,” Sal said with a shrug. “You want the land. I want something in return. And it’s not your money.”
“Then what?”
The older man nodded, walked back to the sofa and sat down again, getting comfortable. When he was settled, he looked up at Adam and said, “You know my Gina.”
“Yeah…” Suspicion rattled through Adam.
“I want to see her happy,” Sal said.
“I’m sure you do.” And what thehell did Gina have to do with any of this?
“I want to see her married. Settled. With a family.”
Everything in Adam went still and cold. He suddenly became hyperaware. He heard the ticking of the clock that hung over the fireplace. He heard a fly bumping against the bay window. He took a long, slow, deep breath and dragged in the enticing aroma of spaghetti sauce bubbling in the kitchen. Adam’s skin felt too tight and every nerve ending in his body was standing straight up.
He took another breath, shook his head and stared at Sal, hardly able to believe what he’d just heard—realization at what Sal could be insinuating hitting him like a ton of bricks. But the older man was staring at him through steady, determined eyes, allowing Adam time to absorb what he’d said. But how could he possibly believe the old man was serious?
Adam had faced tough negotiators before and come out on top, though. Today would be no different.
“I don’t see what Gina getting married has to do with meor this conversation.”
“Don’t you?” Sal smiled. “You’re a man alone, Adam. Gina is alone, as well…”