The Billionaire Boyfriend Trap

Chapter 2

2

"He's expecting opposition from the art teacher and her students," Ellen went on.

I heard myself agree with her, but hardly knew what I was saying. I was on auto-pilot, trying to digest what she'd just told me. Reece Kavanagh wanted to shut down Becky's art school, the one place she loved, the one thing that fulfilled her and made her happy.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. The teacher could move into different premises and keep the school going. The current location was a pretty one in the suburb of Serendipity Bend, the same suburb where Reece Kavanagh had been raised. The Bend, as it was known locally, was snuggled into a sweeping curve of the Serendipity River like a child in the crook of a mother's arm. It was an expensive piece of real estate near the heart of the city, and highly sought after by the rich and famous. The art students drew their inspiration from the willows bowing into the water and the ducks paddling lazily past the old house. It was a tranquil oasis on the edge of Roxburg's busy, concreted business district. It would be a shame to lose the house, but not a total loss. Becky's teacher could move elsewhere from the proceeds of the sale.

"Kavanagh is expecting opposition?" I asked Ellen. "Aside from your client, I mean."

She nodded. "The previous owner was the art teacher's brother. He sold the building to Kavanagh without informing his sister. She's apparently furious and is refusing to leave. The house belonged to their grandmother and her sister died there. She claims she won't let it be bulldozed and will fight RK Financial Group all the way if she has to. It's going to be an interesting evening with those two in the same room."

"Yeah," I said weakly. "Very interesting." Particularly for me. Becky would not be happy when she saw me flirting with the enemy. She didn't know what I did for a living and I had no intention of telling her. She would fall into that category of people who considered what I did unethical, even if I told her I didn't sleep with my targets. Her moral compass always pointed north. Mine flipped back and forth and sometimes spun around as if following a drunken magnet. Ellen was right. It would be an interesting evening.