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To my own little heroes,
Harrison, Griffin, Connor and Finley.
You’re the light of life.
SHE hated relying on a man.
Mia Saunders glanced around the filled-to-capacity community room at the Mountain View Apartments complex. It was already decorated for Thanksgiving and the tenants were hopeful that they would still be living here at the end of November.
At one of the many card tables were Emma and Charlie Lowery. They’d lived here for over twenty years. So had the Nordbergs, along with Second World War veteran and widower, Ralph Parkinson. They’d all come here for the same reason—affordable rent gave seniors on fixed incomes some independence.
At the age of twenty-nine, Mia was an exception, one of the few, younger tenants who lived in the aging apartment complex.
“You’ve got to help us, Mia!”
She turned to tiny, gray-haired Nola Madison standing beside her. She was a widow who had lived in the complex since her husband’s death ten years ago. With social security and a small pension, Nola could survive living alone here without burdening her children.
“Nola, I’m going to try, but I’m not sure how much I can do.”
“You’re a lawyer,” Nola said, her soft hazel eyes seeming larger behind her bifocals.
“Not yet. I’ve only just started law school.” That had been put on hold this past semester and she had no idea when she could start up again.
“But you will talk to the owner for us when he gets here.”
“If he gets here,” Mia added. So far that hadn’t happened. They’d tried a half-dozen times to have a meeting with the man to discuss the fifty-year-old apartment complex’s crumbling condition. No improvements had been done in years.
“It seems the new owner has been avoiding us.”
“Well, he has good reason. He doesn’t want to fix things any more than the last owner.” Joe Carson, another of the elderly tenants, spoke up behind her. That got the crowd going.
Mia waved her hand and they quieted down. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. In all fairness…” She glanced down at the paper. “Mr. Jarrett McKane only took possession of this property a few months ago.”
“McKane,” Nola repeated. “I wonder if he’s any relation to the teacher at the high school, Kira McKane. My granddaughter, Hannah, talks about her all the time.”
Joe stepped forward. “I don’t care who he’s related to, he has to take care of our demands.”
Joe’s wife, Sylvia, gasped. “What if he evicts us?”
That started more grumbles around the crowded room.
Mia eyed the tenants she’d gotten to know since coming to Winchester Ridge when her brother, Reverend Bradley Saunders, took over as pastor of the First Community Church a half mile away. She’d found a one-bedroom apartment in the affordable complex about three years ago when Brad and his wife, Karen, decided to make the small Colorado ranching community a permanent home. It was a perfect place for raising a family.
All Mia’s life, it had been her brother who’d been there for her. Brad had never given up on his little sister, even when she gave up on herself. Over the years, he’d pulled her back from some pretty dark places, and let her know that she was important and loved. When their parents disowned her, Brad stood by her and helped her get her act together and get into college.
She’d do anything for him. Sadness washed over Mia, knowing she would never get the chance again.
Sam Parker hurried into the room and called out, “One of those fancy SUVs just pulled up. A shiny black one.”
Those standing scurried to find a seat as if they’d been caught doing something wrong. Mia didn’t rush much these days, but she felt the excitement and nervousness as she took a chair at the head table, and then turned her attention toward the door.
Nothing had prepared her for this man.
Jarrett McKane walked into the room as if he owned it. That was because he did. He was well over six feet, and his sheepskin jacket made him look ever bigger as his broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway. There was a brooding look in his ebony eyes that made him look intimidating.
It didn’t work on her.
She was Preston Saunders’s daughter. No one could intimidate like the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Though there was no doubt that Jarrett McKane could give good old Preston a run for the title. Intimidator.
She released a breath and put on a smile. “Mr. McKane. It’s good of you to come.”
Jarrett turned toward her, his eyes showing some surprise and interest, and he returned a smile, showing off a row of straight white teeth. Oh boy. He was going to try to charm her.
“Ms. Saunders?”
“That would be me.”
He walked to the table, pulling off his leather gloves then he held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Saunders. I must say I’ve enjoyed your colorful letters.”
She tried not to react as his large hand engulfed hers. Get down to business, she told herself and withdrew her hand.
“Well, they seem to have worked. You’re here.” She motioned to the chair across from her. “Please have a seat and we can begin.”
Jarrett McKane didn’t like this woman having the upper hand. Well, it wasn’t going to last long. He eyed the pretty, long-haired brunette. Even tied back into a ponytail, those curls seemed to have a mind of their own. Her eyes caught his attention right off, a dark, smoky blue. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. He hated trying to guess women’s ages, but he knew she was old enough.
He slipped off his jacket and she watched with interest. He liked that. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.
Mia Saunders glanced down at the paper in front of her. “As I stated in my letters, Mr. McKane, there are several apartments that need your immediate attention. The bathrooms in several of the units aren’t working properly, and many of the heaters aren’t functioning at all. They’re outdated and possibly dangerous.” She looked up. “The conditions here are becoming unlivable, Mr. McKane.” She slid the list across the table to him. “We need you to fix these items immediately.”
Jarrett read over the itemized page. He already knew it would cost him a fortune. “And the previous owner should have taken care of these problems.”
“Since you are the current owner, Mr. McKane, it’s your responsibility now.”
He glared at her.
She ignored it. “I’m sure you bought this property at a reduced price, and a good businessman would know the condition of the place. And since you are the owner now, we’re asking that you please address these problems.”
Jarrett glanced around at the group. He hadn’t expected to find this when he arrived, especially not mainly senior citizens. He pushed away any sentimentality. “I can’t fix these problems.”
“Can’t or won’t?” she retorted.
“I don’t see how that matters.”
“It does to us, Mr. McKane.”