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CHAPTER10
Wesley
Meet in fifteen.
The text reads as I get off my couch and make my way to my front door. Brad and I have known each other since high school, so when I moved back home, I made him my financial adviser.
After my date with Quinn last week, I knew I needed to set up this meeting. As much she says she doesn't need help, I need to figure out a way for her to keep the pub.
I've spent most of my free time with Quinn, and whenever I'm around her, I become more and more obsessed with her. It has taken every ounce of my control not to pull her to me and fuck her the way I know she wants every second I’m with her, but I vowed to take this slow. Slower than any relationship I've ever had up to this point, and that means not making this about sex, even if it is the best sex I’ve ever had.
When my brother found out just how long it took before Quinn and I slept together, the shock didn’t leave his face for a good hour, and it made me realize just how sex-centered my relationships have been up until this point.
“Since when do you not sleep with a girl in the first week?” he’d questioned as he sat in our usual spot in the pub.
My eyes followed my girl as she worked. Every so often, she peered over, and I gave her a flirty wink that sent a blush creeping up her neck. I groaned inwardly because all I could think about was how far that blush went down her chest.
“Since I met Quinn,” I muttered, hating that he was so interested in my love life all of a sudden.
“Obviously, but you need to hit that before you become even more of an asshole. I can't take much more of this,” he joked as I rolled my eyes.
“You think you can keep it down? I don't think Quinn heard you from way over here.”
He just smiled, loving the torture I was putting myself through, yet I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. Keeping myself off her was torture, but I knew it would be worth it.
And it is. Waiting is the best decision I made when it comes to Quinn. This next decision might make or break us, but right now, I'm only thinking of helping my girl live out her dream, even if she's being stubborn and won't listen to reason.
I make it to the bank in record time, and when I enter, I see Brad waiting for me at the front desk.
“Wow, that was fast. Did you fucking run here?” he jokes.
I shrug as he leads us back to his office. The dark oak desk sits in a simple room that looks more like an office furniture store catalog than someone who makes six figures a year.
“So you gave me the rundown last time we talked, but let's sit down and hash out everything you need,” Brad says.
I nod, sitting down in the spare chair and waiting for him to do the same behind his desk.“I want to know what it would entail to invest in O’Malley’s pub.”
His eyes widen because the last time we talked, I just said I was interested in investing in some commercial real estate.“Wes, I love you like a brother, but that's a losing battle, my friend.”
I quirk a brow, wondering what he's getting at, and before I can ask, he answers my question for me.
“For one, restaurants are notoriously unstable. One year they could be thriving and the next they're going under because customers got bored, demographics change and move away, or something new and exciting opens up that takes away all clientele.”
I know he's not wrong. I suspect that's what's been happening to O’Malley’s, but I know if I do this, Quinn, Andy, and I can change that.“I understand that, but I'm still interested.”
He nods and types something into his computer, and when he sighs, I know I'm in trouble.
I frown. “What's wrong?”
“You can't invest in the pub. It's impossible.”
What? How is it impossible?
I must have said those last words out loud because Brad steeples his fingers in front of his face and meets my gaze. “It's in foreclosure.”
I shake my head. Quinn told me she had time to come up with the money.“What do you mean?”
“I mean, there is nothing that can be done. In a few weeks, it will be repossessed.”
