#paid the holding deposit and then signed the contract yesterday!

[heartoferebor]

Fic update

Update on B&B for everyone who is waiting for the last two chapters: last chapter is done! I’m working on the epilogue right now and it’s hard going, mostly because I just DON’T WANT IT TO END.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Storybrooke, Maine

Chapter 2:  Storybrooke

It was 1983. He'd owned the shop now for so long he couldn't remember how long he'd been doing this same routine. Each morning he woke up, stretched, and got into the shower. He dressed in a suit, adding layer after layer to make any who felt the need to deal with him feel underdressed. That was a trick he'd learned as a lawyer. He read the newspaper, cooked himself some breakfast, eggs and bacon that morning. He drove to town and parked his car in the lot, one of his usual places, and hobbled down the street to work. A couple of people passed him. He didn't avert his gaze; rather, he stared into their eyes aggressively so that if they happened to glance up, they'd immediately look away. It was intimidating, he knew it, and he didn't care. It wasn't his job to be friendly. On the contrary, part of being a pawnbroker meant using them for his own benefit. Buy low, sell high, remind them that whatever he paid them for whatever object or heirloom, no matter how precious, was not market value because he had to make his own profit when he sold it again. It didn't matter how many figures he saw when he received his banking statements in the mail; he ran the store mostly on its own profits without having to dip into his trusts or stocks or the family money. People hated him for it, some of his tenants reminded him of his money when they asked for a break on rent after a difficult month, but he only shook his head.

"If I give you a break, then what's to stop everyone else in the town from having a break. Money runs the world. Without the drive to pay, we'd have a free society, and you can see how well that's working in certain parts of the world. It'll be full rent, on time, or we can discuss the date of your departure. Your choice."

They always paid.

On his way to the shop, he spotted Marco hanging a new sign on one of the storefronts. He walked by his ladder, brushing past another individual he didn't know. They gave him a nod. He looked at them long enough to let them know he'd seen the gesture and chosen not to return it.

As he unlocked the door to his shop, he paused glanced over his shoulder at the abandoned library on the corner across from him. He repressed a shiver as he stared at it. It was the same as always; newspapers stuck to the windows, doors locked up, clocktower boarded up, the white paint graying from snow deposits, and clock forever stuck at 8:14. The Library always made him feel uneasy, not because it looked like a haunted house, but because it was becoming an eyesore. For the most part, the town of Storybrooke was a quaint little place. It was almost as disgustingly charming as the people here could be. Their Main Street had a sense of cleanliness and decorum to uphold, and for the most part, it did. The one glaring problem with it was that damn library! It might have been fine if it was just a storefront, like the rest of the shops on Main Street, but naturally, it had to have a corner lot and hold the famed clocktower that could be seen for miles! Why the Mayor had yet to find a suitable replacement for the librarian who had died on the job was a mystery to him. Why she couldn't hire someone to at least come out and get the clock and storefront into proper working order was just incompetency. One of these days, he would file a complaint with Regina about all that, but today there was too much to do.

Frustrated, he held his tongue, turned back to the lock, and let himself inside of his shop. He opened the blinds, flipped the sign on the door to "open" in case someone felt like coming in to make a deal, and then took a deep breath of the musty smell that came with age. It still felt like home, probably more like home than his pink house, which he still needed to get painted.

He escaped to the back room just like always. It was his favorite place in his shop.

The spinning wheel he'd first seen when he bought the place was back here, along with a fold-away cot for nights he got carried away and just decided to sleep there. There were two tables crowded into the back that he could use to polish or repair or clean or whatever he needed to do. It was a welcoming place.

On the table was a golden teapot he'd bought that no longer shined; it was part of a larger set. His task for this morning was simple: polish it until it gleamed. That would earn him a good meal at Granny's for lunch before turning to repair a cup from an old tea set. Lovely thing, but there was one cup that was chipped. He could have sworn that when he'd first acquired it, the cups were whole, and he couldn't for the life of him remember how one of them had gone rogue and been broken. Nevertheless, he'd fix it. As soon as he remembered where he'd placed the chipped piece.

Thirty minutes into his task, he was pleased. He'd polished the pot to perfection. Now for the rest of it. He took the pot out to the front of his shop along with the rag in his hand and found the spot that it belonged. The bell rang as he finished setting it out with its lid, properly clean and ready for sale. He'd make a good profit on it, but doubtful from the woman who had just entered. Regina Mills, formally known as Madam Mayor. She was young, but she'd been the Mayor here as long as he could remember. Their relationship was a complex one. As the owner of the land she ran, he had a certain amount of power in the town that she was rather jealous of. Much of their contract said that she needed to come to him for approval of anything that she wanted to present for a vote, she had to buy him out of the land that she wanted for public use, and a handful of other wonderful necessities that meant these meetings happened far more often than he'd like. It was his land. He got the first say. He supposed that made him the most powerful man in town despite her election. They were cordial when they had to be, but there was always tension underneath their politically motivated politeness.

"I'm not happy," the Mayor snapped the moment the door closed.

He sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatics. He didn't have time to work out her problems, especially if she was going to present it with that particular song and dance. He was here to help her with the town if she needed it, but he wasn't required to listen to her when she was in a mood as she obviously was. That was for someone else to handle; otherwise, his job was to sell his baubles.

"I believe Dr. Hopper's office is down the street."

"Oh, I don't wanna talk to him. I wanna talk to you."

"Very well, Madame Mayor. What is it you wanna talk about?" he questioned, moving on to the next item that matched the teapot, a bowl for sugar. He set it up on the counter, removed its lid, and began to rub it down. That was the problem with polishing one item and not the others; suddenly, everything else paled in comparison.

"This town. This isn't the deal we made."

The deal they'd made…

He'd never forgotten a deal he'd made not in all his life; in fact, it was something he prided himself on. But he couldn't think of a single thing that Regina might have been referencing. "This town, this isn't the deal we made?" They'd made a lot of deals when it came to this town: when she wanted to build, how, where, jobs she wanted to create, property she wanted him to sell...but they hadn't made any deals lately, nothing that would make her unhappy. What she was upset with him about was beyond him. If she wanted help, she was going to have to be more specific.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about."

He looked her in the eye, mostly for intimidation, but also to let her know he was being truthful. It was one of the few helpful hints he had gotten from his father. Regina's gaze fell from upset to disappointed, and he was at least pleased that the gaze seemed to have worked.

"You don't, do you?" she said in a small voice that made him think she might cry. He hoped she wouldn't. He had a handkerchief in his pocket, but not one he wanted to hand over to her or anyone. It was silk. Suddenly Regina turned away from him and hurled herself at the other end of the room. Dramatics.

"I was supposed to be happy here."

"Forgive me, but, um, you're the Mayor. You're the most powerful woman in the town. What is there to be unhappy about?" he questioned. He was digging and maybe doing a bit of ego-stroking to get to the bottom of her temperament. He couldn't fix whatever deal she wasn't happy with if he didn't know what it was.

"Everyone in this town does exactly what I want them to!"

"And that's a problem?" he questioned, striding around the counter.

"Well, they do it because they have to, not because they want to. It's not real."

"Not happy," "supposed to be happy," "it's not real"…clearly a job for Doctor Hopper or, better yet, the young stallion of a sheriff that he suspected she was "seeing" on the side. He had work to do, and unless she had a question about the land, then she was wasting his time.

"I'm sorry, what exactly is it you want?" He'd moved a glass mobile before he started polishing, and now he wished he hadn't. The glass unicorns hung down between him and Regina, obstructing his view of her. But he never let his eyes waver. He continued to stare at her as though she was the only one he saw. What did she want from him?

"Nothing you can give me," she answered after a small pause. Then she turned and left the shop, pulling something out of her pocket before she got to the door.

Dramatics handled, he turned back to his work. He polished off the sugar bowl, the cup for creamer, four teacups, and finally four saucers. From the backroom, he retrieved a small box of cards. It was his inventory, everything in the shop had a place, and everything had a price, including the tea set. Yesterday he'd typed out the card on his typewriter, now he scratched out some of the previous notes about a lack of gleam and needing a good polish, noted that it was in excellent condition, and upped the price from $200 to $250. He should have been proud of himself, he should have felt the same satisfaction for a good morning's work that he always did, but Regina's interruption had him feeling restless. What was she talking about? What deal was she referencing? If she was the Mayor, why did he feel like he spent all his time solving her problems? So many, many questions she'd drudged up…a sure sign he needed to take a break and have lunch.

But Granny's Diner wasn't quite the distraction he'd hoped for. After putting in his usual order with the old woman's slut of a granddaughter Ruby, he sat to wait and listened to the conversations around him. Suddenly he realized what had Regina up in arms. No one in this provincial town liked change. Everyone stuck to their routine and their schedules as if it would kill them to deviate. He was guilty of it too. But he liked to think that unlike the Mayor and the rest of Storybrooke, his world wouldn't be turned upside-down from a father and son whose car had broken down and were staying for a few days until it was fixed. Widow Lucas seemed pleased to have the business at the bed and breakfast, but the pair were all anyone was talking about at lunch. Who were they? Why were they here? How long would they be staying? Honestly, it was as if there had been a jailbreak instead of just a couple of visitors. And why it had upset Regina the way it had…

It wasn't his business. It wasn't his job to look after her or the town. His job was to collect rent, offer Regina consultation when she requested it, and look after his shop. Nothing else. If it didn't affect him, and it certainly hadn't so far, he didn't see the need to care.

He retrieved his food when it was ready and took it back to the shop, putting the citizens and their gossip out of his mind. He ate and spent his time looking for the missing piece to the teacup he wanted to fix.

It was just another day in Storybrooke.

[banerpunep]

9 biggest property management challenges

A third-party contractor’s daily control over residential, commercial, or industrial real estate is known as property management.

What is property management’s main advantage?

The owner’s peace of mind is unquestionably the biggest advantage of having a property managed.

Knowing that an unbiased third party is defending their assets, deposits, and tenants, landlords may unwind.

Property Management challenges –

In particular, if you don’t have a full property management system, you probably already understand all the aches and advantages that go along with this demanding yet gratifying profession.

But no matter how many years of experience you have or how much your company has grown, every property manager eventually runs into the same problems.

Perhaps you’re beginning to contemplate issues like:

What can I do to improve as a property manager? Why do I always lack the time? What do I not see?

Your capacity for project management is regularly put to the test, from managing routine facility maintenance to handling financial matters.

Your ability to communicate effectively will ultimately determine the success of your organization.

As if that weren’t enough pressure, you also need to constantly monitor events.

Below is a list of the issues you’ll encounter most frequently.

Employment –

It is impossible to manage everything on your own once you begin to scale.

You must recruit and keep top-notch employees who can address rather than exacerbate your property manager’s difficulties.

Maintenance –

As if owning and renting out buildings wasn’t enough, a property manager’s list of duties always appears to include maintenance.

As soon as you finish one task, another one is waiting to take your time and attention.

Tenant –

You must take care of the people as well as your real estate holdings.

You spend a lot of your time on:

Locating trustworthy tenants.

Obtaining background information

Signing contracts for rental services.

According to client requests.

Interacting with the appropriate contractors.

Addressing problems as they appear.

Tenants should always be aware of your expectations in addition to this extensive list of obligations.

You have to enforce evictions when problems occur, which can be a complicated procedure.

Scaling –

Scaling your revenue also seems like a distant dream when you have so many chores to complete.

You must give your customers the greatest service possible to promote client recommendations, but you can’t do that until you stay on top of your to-do list.

It is a never-ending circle.

Time –

There is never enough time in the day, as every property manager will attest.

Either you are frantically attempting to make up for yesterday’s work, or you are steadily slipping behind.

Few property managers can work a rigid 9 to 5 schedule every day while still taking a full lunch break. Instead, they don’t take a lunch break and typically put in an extra two to three hours a day.

Work overload without adequate pauses will result in burnout, which will subsequently breed dissatisfaction, disappointment, and resignation.

Time management skills, adherence to policies and checklists, and management assistance are a few changes that could make this better.

Never undervalue the impact that choosing the right property and owner has on this all-too-common issue!

Cost –

The rise in additional expenditures brought on by taking on more projects is one of the toughest obstacles property management must overcome.

Tenants continue to complain, contractors need to be paid, and errors happen.

Your profit margin will soon be declining, and you and your accountant will soon be at odds.

Owners and tenants anticipate immediate communication –

It can be quite difficult when a tenant contacts property management by email, office phone call, and cell call all within 60 seconds.

The key in this situation is controlling expectations regarding the property manager’s accessibility at the beginning of your owner or renter relationship.

Dealing with violent and belligerent landlords and renters –

In property management, there will inevitably be some confrontations and disagreements when you’re dealing with an owner’s financial investment and a tenant’s residence.

One of the most frequent causes of property managers quitting their jobs is this problem alone.

Even the greatest property managers still find it challenging to deal with this issue.

Setting reasonable expectations and giving both parties an appropriate induction can help to reduce it.

Google negative reviews and social media complaints –

Because of social media, everyone has an online voice and a corresponding viewpoint today.

We are seeing an increasing number of customers voice their dissatisfaction with the services they receive, which is understandable given the fact that you cannot satisfy everyone and the rising demand for perfection and people having their “rights” met.

Accepting that internet complaints are common and that getting a negative Google review is simple (especially from a disappointed tenant who didn’t get their whole bond back) is important.

The outcome is entirely dependent on how you respond to complaints and negative web reviews, not the complaint itself.

One strategy can address each of these problems. – Elate property management software

Real estate software that runs on the cloud.

It was developed specifically to deal with the dynamic issue the real estate market is currently experiencing.

It is made up of finances, asset management, and property lease.

Real Estate Software UAE is a unique data structure that adapts to your company with powerful web tools, enabling businesses to launch online in the shortest amount of time with the most cost-effective model.

Peniel Technology is the best provider of Elate property management software.

What are the advantages of real estate management software?

Easy to Learn and Flexible –

There is no need for Expensive Training with Tenant Management Software UAE.

Moreover, the tool is adaptable enough to meet all the current needs of property owners or landlords.

Real-Time Precision –

Property management software in Dubai improves the way you communicate with your tenants.

Through automated and manual communication methods, it enables you to share information with them quickly and clearly.

Quick Access –

The software is built with speed and a database that can hold any mass data to assist you more efficiently without compromising the quality of the operation.

Highly Security –

Data security is the top requirement for real estate management software in Dubai, United Arab Emirates. The software has access authorization built in to prevent information disclosure.

Customer support –

Our experts will fix your issue and lead you through the procedure. Send us an email, use the chat feature, or phone us at your convenience using the support number.

We pledge to uphold global standards and provide comprehensive technical assistance throughout the issue to help you with your problems whenever they arise.

[chestnutpost]

Delek Group Announces Consolidated Fourth Quarter & Full Year 2018 Results

This post was originally published on this site

TEL AVIV, Israel, April 1, 2019 /PRNewswire/ — Delek Group Ltd. (TASE: DLEKG) (US ADR: DGRLY), (“Delek Group” or “The Group”) announced yesterday its results for the fourth quarter and full year ended December 31, 2018. The full financial statements will be available in English on Delek Group’s website at: www.Delek-Group.com

Full Year 2018 Highlights

Net income for 2018 amounted to NIS 517 million, compared with NIS 1,216 million in 2017; the E&P sector contributed NIS 720 million to core profits with significantly better performance at Ithaca Energy

The Leviathan project is now 80% complete, and remains on schedule for gas sales to begin by the end of 2019;  technical inspections of the EMG pipeline continue, with first gas flows expected by 2Q19

With Ithaca on a stable footing and the divestment of the Phoenix Insurance Company in progress, Delek Group is delivering on its strategy of becoming an international energy firm and continues to look for new investments in the North Sea and Gulf of Mexico

Group revenues in 2018 totaled NIS 8.1 billion compared with NIS 6.8 billion in 2017, an increase of 19%. Driving the growth were higher sales volumes of gas from Tamar, and improved prices and volumes at Ithaca Energy. Fourth quarter revenues of NIS 2.0 billion were higher than NIS 1.9 billion in the same period last year.

Group operating profit in 2018 totaled NIS 1.6 billion, compared with NIS 2.5 billion 2017. Adjusting for one-time profits from the sale of a 9.25% interest in the Tamar field in 3Q17, the listing of a portion the Tamar field’s royalties in 2Q18, and Ithaca’s acquisition of Greater Stella assets in 4Q18, full year 2018 operating profit was unchanged at NIS 1.1 billion. Strong performance of the Israeli E&P sector (despite a lower working interest in Tamar) and significantly better profitability at Ithaca drove this result. Fourth quarter operating profit of NIS 450 million was higher than the NIS 159 million in the same period last year.

Net income attributed to shareholders for 2018 was NIS 517 million compared with NIS 1,216 million in 2017. In addition to the one-off items mentioned above, the Group’s holdings in Delek Automotive and the Phoenix Insurance were revalued downwards to reflect the weak equity market conditions in December 2018. Fourth quarter net loss of NIS (219) million was in line with the loss of (208) million in the same period last year. The current cash balance as of December 30, 2018 was NIS 2.3 billion, including unutilized credit lines and marketable securities.

Management Comment

Mr. Asaf Bartfeld, President and CEO of Delek Group, commented, “We continued to progress with our strategy in 2018. This past year saw record E&P results; asset sales and delisting of subsidiaries; and development of investments in both the North Sea and the Gulf of Mexico. Looking ahead into 2019, we await the start of gas production from the Leviathan field in Israel along with further investments abroad, in order to reach Delek Group’s goal of becoming an international energy firm.”

Main Business Highlights

Contribution of Principal Operations to Net Income* (NIS millions)

4Q

4Q

FY

FY

2018

2017

2018

2017

Oil and Gas E&P Operations in Israel and its Surroundings

108

82

437

364

Oil and Gas E&P Operations in the North Sea 

174

-78

283

20

Fuel Operations in Israel

-23

20

70

100

Automotive Operations

-14

13

9

63

Contribution to continuing operations before discontinued operations and capital and other gains

245

37

799

547

Profit from Oil and Gas assets sales

45

-123

125

859

Finance Expenses & Others

-509

-122

-407

-190

Net Income (Loss) Attributed to Group’s Shareholders

-219

-208

517

1216

*The full report, including full notes, is contained in financial reports that will be available on the Group’s website at www.delek-group.com

Oil and Gas Exploration & Production

Delek Group’s strategy is to focus on the development of its core assets in the Eastern Mediterranean E&P and expand its activities in global E&P markets, with the intention of becoming a key international player in the energy industry with operational capabilities.

Tamar & Leviathan Tamar’s gas sales reached 10.36 BCM during 2018, up from 9.47 BCM the year prior. The development of the Leviathan project is approximately 80% complete. The production platform’s legs have been mounted on the sea floor, and the project remains on schedule for first gas to be delivered by the end of 2019. An agreement was signed with Dolphinus in March 2018 for the export of gas to Egypt, and the acquisition of rights to use the EMG pipeline in October 2018 provided the logistics solution for the implementation of this sales contract. Technical inspections of the undersea pipeline connecting Israel and Egypt are still underway, with the initial gas flows planned for the end of 2Q19.

Ithaca Energy Ithaca contributed NIS 510 million to Delek Group’s operating income in 2018, compared with NIS 136 million in 2017. This result reflects Delek Group’s important efforts to enhance value at our North Sea subsidiary on both financial and strategic levels during the year. Profits were driven by higher production volumes, which were achieved organically though a new connection to the Harrier field in 2Q18, as well as acquisition of new assets in the Greater Stella Area (GSA) during 4Q18. Ithaca benefited from high oil and gas prices during the middle of the year, and though energy prices have subsequently weakened, Ithaca is protected from the immediate impacts of this trend through hedges that cover approximately half of its 2019 production, at average levels of USD 64 per barrel of oil and USD 7.25 per mmbtu of gas.

Production during 2018 was 16,100 barrels of oil equivalent per day, significantly higher than the 13,900 boed seen during 2017. In total, Ithaca produced approximately 5.9m barrels of oil equivalent this year, 5% higher than budgeted. Production costs in 2018 were USD 18.6 per barrel, compared to USD 19.2 in 2017. The Vorlich field, with proven and probable reserves of 25 million boe, will be connected to the GSA production platform in the year 2020.

During 4Q18, Ithaca Energy completed a successful debt refinancing. The company’s RBL framework was increased to USD 400 million, with maturity pushed out to December 2022. Ithaca arranged an additional 5 year loan of USD 300 million from an international consortium of lenders which was used for early repayment of existing bonds, resulting in a savings on interest payments.

Gulf of Mexico Exploration in the Gulf of Mexico continued during 4Q18 at the Tau prospect. The campaign has proven more complex than initially expected, with high pressures and loss of drilling liquids. As of early February 2019, the drilling had gone through 7,000 feet of salt to a general depth of 11,500 feet and is still ongoing. The Canoe prospect, explored in 3Q18, was temporarily abandoned pending further analysis of drilling data.

Downstream Energy Sector

Delek – the Israel Fuel Company Ltd. (fully held by Delek Group): Operating profit in 2018 amounted to NIS 128 million compared with NIS 168 million in 2017. Negative revaluation of inventory at year-end 2018 and charges for the closure of a marine refuelling unit led to lower year-on-year contribution from this subsidiary.

Other Assets

Continuing in efforts to divest non-core assets: Delek Group is approaching full divestment of its non-core assets, allowing it to focus purely on the global E&P sector.

During 3Q18, the Company sold 16% of its Phoenix Insurance Company holdings through swap transactions with Israeli financial institutions. In February 2019, Delek Group reached a non-binding memorandum of principles with Centerbridge Partners and Gallatin Point Capital for the sale of its remaining 30% stake in the Phoenix for an overall consideration of NIS 1.6 billion. The deal is pending completion of due diligence, regulatory approvals, and suitable financing arrangements.

Delek Group also sold 30% of its IDE subsidiary for a total netback of NIS 530 million in January 2019. Finally, in an effort to simplify the holding structure, the Company delisted Delek Energy Systems (a subsidiary within the E&P sector) during 4Q18.

Dividend

On March 31, 2019, the Company’s Board of Directors resolved to distribute a dividend of NIS 140, million to be paid during April 2019. Delek Group paid out NIS 490 million in dividends during calendar year 2018.

Net Financial Debt*

As at 31 December, 2018

NIS Millions

Liabilities

Debentures

7,402

Bank and other loans

1,147

Other liabilities

156

Total liabilities

8,705

Assets

Cash and deposits

835

Pledged deposits from swap transactions

220

Financial investments

179

Loans

863

Other assets

437

Treasury shares

130

Total Assets

2,664

Net Financial Debt

6,041

*This table, including full notes, is contained in financial reports that will be available on the Group’s website at www.delek-group.com

Conference Call Details

The Company will be hosting a conference call in English today on Monday, April 1, 2019 at 3:30pm (Israel Time), 8:30am (ET), 1:30pm (UK). To participate in the conference call, please dial:

Israel:  03-918-0610 The USA: 1-888-668-9141 The UK:  0-800-917-5108 International: +972-3-918-0610

A day following the conference calls, a recording of both the calls will be hosted on the Company’s website at: http://ir.delek-group.com.

About The Delek Group

The Delek Group, Israel’s dominant integrated energy company, is the pioneering leader of the natural gas exploration and production activities that are transforming the Eastern Mediterranean’s Levant Basin into one of the energy industry’s most promising emerging regions. Having discovered Tamar and Leviathan, two of the world’s largest natural gas finds since 2000, Delek and its partners are now developing a balanced, world-class portfolio of exploration, development and production assets with total gross natural gas resources discovered since 2009 of approximately 40 TCF.

For more information, please visit www.delek-group.com or email: investor@delek-group.com

Contact Information

Yonah Weisz Head of Investor Relations Delek Group Ltd. Tel: +972 9 863 8443 Email: investor@delek-group.com

SOURCE Delek Group Ltd

Related Links

https://www.delek-group.com/

The post Delek Group Announces Consolidated Fourth Quarter & Full Year 2018 Results appeared first on The Chestnut Post.

from The Chestnut Post https://thechestnutpost.com/news/delek-group-announces-consolidated-fourth-quarter-amp-full-year-2018-results/

[anavoliselenu]

Hiched chapter 4

“The infamous Justin Tate, not interested in chasing tail? Do I need to call you an ambulance?” she teases. “Or are you just having too much fun bugging me and keeping me away from work?”

My temper rising, I stand my ground. “Because I think of myself as a taken man now.”

Her eyebrows dart up. “Are you serious? You’re really not going to mess around?”

“Not with anyone who isn’t you,” I say smoothly.

“I—um . . . So, monogamy really is part of the deal?” she stammers. “I’ve had a standing Wednesday-night thing with a guy from the gym. Should I cancel that for the next little bit?”

My nostrils flare and I bite back my temper. “Hell yeah, it is, and yeah, you should. What goes for me, goes for you. You aren’t to mess around with anyone who isn’t me. I don’t even want to think about another man touching what’s mine.” I lean down and growl the last part close to her ear.

She sucks in her breath, her pupils dilating, then composes herself. “As long as you know that this works both ways. If I find your totem pole next to anyone else, consider yourself castrated. Think Lorena Bobbitt, but without the whole finding-it part.”

On the surface, her reaction isn’t exactly promising. But I know that deep down, I’ve affected her. I’ve seen the way she looks at me when she doesn’t think I’m watching.

“And for the record, I was kidding about the guy at the gym, Justin.”

Thank God, because I was already planning to go down to her gym after work and find the helpless fuck to punch him square in the kisser.

I step away from her desk and watch as Selena’s eyes narrow on my form. Tucking my hands into my pockets, I almost chuckle as her gaze follows the movement, her eyes drifting down to my crotch. But they dart up again and she lets out a frustrated huff.

“If you’re so confident, how about we place a bet?” I ask.

“Name your terms.”

She smirks at me, pretending to be unaffected. Too bad I know exactly the effect I can have on a woman when I turn on the charm.

I lean in closer. “I’ll give you four days until you’re begging for me to fill your hot little cunt,” I murmur.

Her jaw drops, but she recovers quickly. “Not even in four years.”

“I was going to say four hours, but I didn’t want to get cocky,” I tease.

“Trust me. I can hold out for a long time.” Selena leans back in her desk chair, her pose casual and confident.

“Dry spell?”

She rolls her eyes. “Perpetually.”

Fuck. That makes me want her so much more, knowing that she’s all pent-up and unsatisfied.

“No battery-operated boyfriends.”

Her gaze darkens. “Fine. No hand jobs either then.”

My jaw tenses. Like that will happen. “There’s always the trial run I proposed at happy hour.”

She chews on her thumbnail. “I haven’t had time to consider it yet, but I’ll keep you posted when I decide.”

A knock on the door grabs our attention. It’s Fred.

“Hey, kids, time for the meeting.”

Selena checks her watch. “Be there right away, Dad.”

Knowing our conversation isn’t even close to finished, I offer her a hand to assist her from her seat, bringing her eye level with me. “We’ll finish this later, Snowflake.”

She scoffs and struts down the hall in front of me, her gorgeous round ass swaying as she moves.

“Four days,” I call to her as I catch up.

Chapter Eight

Selena

Late the next afternoon, a knock on my office door startles me out of my work trance. “Come in,” I say automatically.

The door cracks open and Dad pokes his head in. “Hey there, sweetie. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything, but could we talk for a minute in my office?”

I blink first at him, then at my computer screen before closing my laptop. “Sure, Dad. What do you need?”

“It’s good news, I promise,” is all he says.

I follow Dad to his office, where Justin is already sitting in one of the armchairs. He stands up when we walk in.

I glance between him and Dad suspiciously. What fresh hell is this?

Dad picks up a thin sheaf of papers from his desk. “In all the recent hubbub, I forgot to tell you kids about my wedding gift.” He hands over the document with a proud smile.

I scan the first page and my heart plummets. It’s a signed lease for a furnished penthouse apartment in the heart of the city, its security deposit already paid, as well as first and last month’s rent. And there’s only one bedroom.

No way.

Realizing that I probably shouldn’t just stand here in a stupor, I say, “Oh. Um . . . wow, Dad. This is so generous.”

Dad chuckles and squeezes my shoulder. “Anything for my girl. I figured you two wouldn’t have much time to go house-hunting right now, so I found you a place myself.”

“Thank you very much, sir. I’m sure we’ll love it,” Justin interjects.

Jackass. He always knows exactly what to say, how to smooth over any situation. Whereas I’m struggling to remember how to breathe.

I force a tight-lipped smile at my dear, sweet future husband. “Yes. Justin, can we talk about this in your office? There’s a lot of arrangements that need to be made.”

• • •

As soon as we’re alone with the door locked, I let my emotions burst free.

“What the hell are we going to do? He’s already spent so much money, which T&C really can’t afford, by the way, and he’ll expect us to move in, and . . . what a clusterfuck!” I push my hands into my hair, not caring in the slightest that my perfectly coiffed bun just became a hot mess.

Justin holds up his hands. “Whoa, hey, calm down. Living together isn’t really that big of a deal, is it?”

“Of course it’s a big deal. I don’t want to move in with anyone, especially not you.”

He narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, get over yourself. I’m sure you don’t want to live with me, either.”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

I stare at him. “Why? Wouldn’t that get in the way of your drinking and whoring?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to do that anymore.” Justin rakes his fingers through his hair irritably. “Okay, just listen to me for a second. Even if we ignore the fact that you’re sex on legs and any sane man would give his left nut to spend a night with you—”

My laugh sounds ever so slightly hysterical. “You’re seriously trying to flirt right now? Is that the only way you know how to communicate with women?”

“Even if we ignore that fact,” he growls out, “we still have Tate & Cane’s public image to consider. How bad will it look if we don’t even live under the same roof?”

I rub my forehead, partly to ground myself and partly as an excuse to hide my expression. I can’t cry in front of Justin. I don’t cry, period.

Why am I even getting so upset? I already knew we’d have to live together sooner or later. I’ve seen this coming since day one. That was one of the reasons I didn’t want to sign the stupid contract in the first place. And I’m still feeling optimistic about Justin and our budding friendship. I’m not over the moon about having to share my private space with a roommate again, but I’ll survive. Hell, it may even be fun. I have a lot of awesome memories from living with Camryn.

Really, Justin’s right. It’s not that big of a deal. But for some reason, it feels monumental. Like I’m about to lose yet another piece of myself.

I just hate surprises. Dad’s wedding gift broadsided my composure and splattered all sorts of uncomfortable emotions everywhere. I need a moment to scrape myself back together.

“We don’t really have a choice, Snowflake,” Justin says. “Everyone—the media, our employees, our rivals, our stockholders—they all have to see us together. The starry-eyed young couple, poised to take over one of the nation’s biggest companies. That’s who we have to be.”

I drop my gaze, chewing my lip hard. Finally, I admit, “Yeah, I know. You’re right . . . our hands are tied. Sorry I flipped out for a minute there.”

I half expect Justin to make some perverted joke about tied hands. But instead, he just touches me on the chin—the gentlest possible hey, buck up.

I meet his eyes as his fingers tilt my face to his. Can he tell how stupid and frustrated I feel? Why can’t I hide anything from this man? Why can’t I stop exposing my weak points?

Justin’s sympathetic expression is both comforting and humiliating. I’m torn between the urge to relax, to let him support me, and the urge to jealously guard my dignity.

“No, I’m sorry too,” Justin says in a much softer tone than before. “I know this situation really sucks for you, but we’ll figure out ways to make it easier. Like our dads always said, we can accomplish anything if we’re together.”

I take a deep breath, then slowly let it out. Already my mind is starting to quiet. On the way back to my cool, collected self.

“You’re right,” I say. “We have to make this courtship look real. So, living together will kill two birds with one stone—keep up appearances and let us get more familiar with each other.”

Justin cocks his head with a salacious half smile. “Really? You’ve changed your mind about . . . ?”

“I haven’t, so get your mind out of the gutter,” I huff. Leave it to the immature horndog to purposely misunderstand me. “I meant that there’s certain things we need to know about each other. Trivia, fun facts, stuff that could come up in conversation.” We may have grown up together, but we haven’t spent much time getting to know each other as adults.

“Like yesterday, when you just assumed I drink coffee.” Justin raises his eyebrows in mock outrage.

“Right. If anyone had been watching, we would have looked like total strangers.” Then I try to joke, “Although I still think that was a reasonable assumption on my part. I mean, who the hell drinks only tea? Tea is for relaxing; coffee is for waking up.”

“Excuse me, Snowflake.” Justin grins in the crooked way that I’ve come to learn means game on. “You’d prefer me to be a twitchy addict like you? I’ve seen the sludge you drink. Pitch black . . . just like your heart.”

“Actually, it’s not,” I reply coolly, smiling despite myself. “I take sweetener. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“Fair point. We both have a few things to learn about each other.” He thrusts his hands into his pockets and glances away for a second. “About the tea thing . . . my mom was English, and she really lived up to that particular stereotype. She loved ‘a good cuppa.’” His voice lifts to imitate her lilting accent. “So I drink tea to . . . honor her memory, I guess you could say. It’s my way of taking a moment every morning to think about her.”

My jaw almost drops. His mom passed away when he was just ten. God, I remember that year like it was yesterday. It was such a sullen time. So dark and so quiet, like all the life had been sucked out of Justin and his dad in an instant.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I know his mom was British, but somehow it never dawned on me that he may have a special connection to her home country.

Justin shakes his head, looking a little embarrassed, and walks around me to perch on the edge of his desk. Leaving me to feel like a total bitch.

Biting my lip, I turn to face him again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of you like that. I think your little tea-drinking memorial is . . . really sweet.”

He shrugs. “Thanks, but don’t worry about it. I wasn’t offended. Especially since I know you’ve also lost your mom.”

“Yeah, but I was practically an adult when she died. You were only ten. Just a little kid. You needed your mother.” A sweet memory of him on her lap—when he was too big to fit, but not too big to want to be there—flashes through my brain.

“You could argue that being older just makes your pain fresher.” Justin sighs. “Look, let’s not get into some kind of weird Grief Olympics here, okay? Of course I miss Mum, but your experience wasn’t better or worse than mine, just different. What matters is that we can understand each other.”

He’s always so smooth and confident about everything . . . even death. Before I can say anything more, Justin changes the subject.

“About the apartment—we should probably start spending nights there ASAP. I’ve got dinner plans with Sterling right now, but how about we meet back at the new place at . . .” He checks his watch. “How’s eight?”

Considering all the preparations I need to make, I nod slowly. “Sure. That’ll give me time to grab some food and pack.” I turn to leave, but Justin interrupts me.

“Hey, Snowflake . . . can you do me one last favor?”

I stop, glancing back. “Yeah?”

“Could you smile again?”

For some reason, his directness flusters me so much that I blurt, “W-why should I?” Then I want the floor to swallow me up.

What the hell, Selena? You sound like a bratty teenager.

“Because I don’t want you to leave unhappy.” Justin reaches out to brush my jaw with the back of his hand. The lightest, most fleeting touch, gone before I can say a word. “And because it looks good on you. I’d like to see that smile more often.”

My face is on fire. I’m not sure how much of that heat is because I just embarrassed myself and how much is because of Justin’s heated stare.

“I . . . I guess you’ll get plenty of chances, now that we’re living together.” My attempt at a snappy retort comes out stuttering.

He inclines his head without breaking our gaze. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

I swallow the boulder in my throat. He’s actually looking forward to it?

“Hey, Justin?”

“Yes?” he says sweetly.

“Why do you call me Snowflake?”

He steps closer and runs one finger along my cheek, making my skin tingle in its wake. “Because you’re just like a snowflake. Beautiful and unique, and with one touch you’ll be wet.”

Justin turns to leave, striding away with me staring after his broad shoulders and tight ass, with my mouth hanging open.

Dumbfounded, I shut the door behind me. Was that last comment meant to get a rise out of me? Or did he think I was really flirting?

Was I flirting? I thought I was just being bitter, but . . . maybe a tiny bit. I don’t even know. And it doesn’t help that my mind is still reeling from that bet we made yesterday.

• • •

I eat dinner alone at a little Italian bistro around the corner from the Tate & Cane building. I guess I was craving some comfort food. Spaghetti with meatballs and a glass of merlot do the trick nicely.

I take a cab home, and when I arrive, I e-mail my landlord to get the ball rolling on terminating my lease early. Then I start packing an overnight bag. I’ll arrange for the rest of my clothes and other personal items to be delivered to our new place later. My furniture will just have to be sold.

One hour later, my little maroon suitcase is stuffed full. I have no excuse to linger further. But I do anyway—walking through slowly, looking at everything one last time.

This apartment has been the backdrop of my life for the past four years, ever since I got my undergrad degree and stopped rooming with Camryn. Everything within these walls is a product of my decisions and mine alone. I chose this place for its airy architecture, its honey-colored hardwood floors, even the blue-diamond tile pattern in the kitchen and bathroom. I bought every stick of furniture, striking my ideal balance between stylish and cozy. I decorated its walls with framed art prints that suited my tastes. I filled its fridge and cabinets with my favorite snacks. I cluttered the bathroom with my beauty products, not worrying about leaving space for anyone else’s stuff. I organized everything according to the system that would best help me remember where I put it. Now . . . I can kiss all of that sovereignty good-bye.

Sure, I can bring a few more of my things to the penthouse, but so can Justin. He’ll add his own unique flavor to our new home.

Our new home . . . I wonder how long it will take me to get used to that. And it’s already fully furnished—which means no bringing my beloved squishy gray velvet sofa. Most importantly, there’s only one bedroom. I won’t have anywhere that’s truly my domain anymore.

But Justin must feel the same way. He’s also sacrificing the privacy and freedom of his bachelor pad. In fact, he has more to lose than me, since he actually had a sex life. And from what he said yesterday, it seems like he’s serious about giving up his entire playboy lifestyle. Even though he’s probably never been monogamous in his whole life.

Man, watching him try to keep it in his pants is going to be hilarious. And just what is his plan if I do take up with another man? Start a brawl like a couple of teenage punks?

I shake my head. That will never happen, anyway. Work is my whole life—I don’t have time to invest in dating. And even though I’ll never admit it to Justin, I don’t have the stomach for one-night stands. I can’t imagine myself enjoying physical intimacy without emotional intimacy. Unlike Justin, who seems to have zero problems whipping it out at the slightest provocation.

At least, he did until we started dating.

I seriously don’t understand what’s going through that man’s head. All I wanted was for us to go from acquaintances to friends. Why does he have to push for overachievement? Why is he so determined to play the perfect boyfriend, even when nobody’s around to witness his act? Why does he feel like he has to stay faithful to me?

Just to keep up appearances for the public? To gratify his male pride? Or because . . . he genuinely wants to woo me for real?

I realize I’ve been staring out the window for almost five full minutes. I haven’t even been watching the dark, twinkling cityscape—moving lights for the cars, static ones for the offices working late or the families relaxing together. A glimpse into millions of people’s lives, spread out in stars like a reflection of the night sky. I suddenly feel very small . . . and lonely.

It takes me a moment to recognize the feeling because I’m usually lonely in the abstract, daydreaming of a faceless fantasy lover. A hazy ache for human contact. Someone to brush his fingers through my hair and whisper sweet things in my ear. Someone to hold me and tell me everything will be okay. Someone to investigate when there’s a noise in the night. Now, though, my loneliness is specific and sharp.

I want to see Justin.

He’s the only person in the world who understands how I feel right now. Camryn can try to sympathize, and she’s definitely done a lot to help me through this, but she’s not down in the trenches with me. Justin is.

I’m not sure if I want to talk to him right now, but I at least want to see him. I want to know he’s still there, by my side. I need to hear his optimism and see that smirk on his mouth to know that maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it through this.

I pick up my suitcase, turn the lights off, and leave my apartment for the last time.

• • •

Even at this time of night, Manhattan traffic isn’t fun. As my cab crawls through the packed city streets, I suddenly get an idea.

“Is there a tea shop nearby?” I ask the cabbie.

He gives me a confused look in his rearview mirror. “What, like a café?”

“No, I mean a place where I can buy . . . equipment? Teapots and kettles and stuff.”

He starts tapping his GPS screen. Fortunately, we’re stopped at a red light, but I get the feeling that he wouldn’t care if we weren’t.

“About three blocks west,” he says after a minute. “You got some shopping to do there?”

“Yes, please.”

He promptly muscles into the right-turn lane, ignoring a few shouts and middle fingers from the other drivers, and speeds through. Somehow we arrive at the store without causing any vehicular manslaughter.

As I count out my fare, I say, “Can you wait for me? I shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.”

He raises his bushy eyebrows. “That long? You sure? I’ll have to drive around the block, and the meter’s runnin’ . . .”

“I can afford it.” For now, anyway. Tate & Cane isn’t totally underwater yet.

He shrugs. “Okay, lady, whatever you want.”

I step out of the cab and he’s gone before I reach the front door.

The tiny boutique has an entire wall devoted to tea gear—cups, pots, kettles, infusers, strainers, paper filters, little wire racks for organizing boxes, airtight jars and tins for storing loose leaf. I consider the display, tapping my lips with one finger.

Finally, I choose a squat, Japanese-style ceramic teapot with a mottled forest-green glaze. Its shelf tag reads: Ao-Oribe ushirode kyuusu, tenmoku glaze, sasame filter.

I haven’t the faintest idea what any of that means. And the price is slightly horrifying. But its color and elegant shape are perfect—tasteful, yet eye-catching, not too masculine or too feminine. A symbol of compromise, a hope for harmony. A gift that I chose myself, but in recognition of a ritual that Justin holds dear.

Just for the hell of it, I take a pair of matching cups too. I’ll definitely stick to coffee in the mornings. But maybe, late at night, it wouldn’t be so bad to share a hot cup of tea with Justin.

I make my way to the front of the store, smiling to myself, feeling calm at last.

Chapter Nine

Justin

“I’m in the mood for red meat,” Sterling says as we walk down the crowded sidewalk after work.

“Damn. Dry streak, buddy?” I rub my chin thoughtfully.

“What?” He squints at me in the fading light.

“A craving for red meat usually means a lack of sex. A desire for a certain other kind of meat, if you will.” I grin at him.

“Shut it.”

Oh yeah, he’s in a funk. I know for a fact he’s been going through some type of dry spell, but I have no idea the cause. Before I can pry, he’s chuckling next to me.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re so misguided, it’s not even funny. You’re the one who’s going to be in for the world’s biggest case of blue balls—marrying someone as hot as Selena Cane and not getting to fuck her?” He makes a pitiful noise. “That’s just a damn shame.”

“Who said anything about not getting to fuck her?” I pull open the door to the Grassland Steakhouse and gesture for him to enter.

He shoots me an odd glare, but approaches the hostess to request a table.

Once we’re seated with our drinks—a whiskey neat for me, a pint of imported beer for him—Sterling leans closer. “Did you and your lovely bride make more headway on your relationship than I’d realized?”

I shrug. “Not yet.” She’s far from being my bride, for one thing. “But I, for one, am not giving up hope.” I take another sip of my drink. “In fact, after dinner, I’m meeting her at our new apartment. A gift from her father.”

“No shit?”

I nod.

“Living together, huh. That’s a big step.”

“Indeed.”

For a moment, I put myself in Sterling’s shoes and wonder if he’s feeling like he’s suddenly lost his best friend and wingman. We used to go out every weekend together hunting for pussy and fun—in that order. Now, I’m practically a married man with a new housemate, and probably a curfew.

But when I glance back at Sterling, he’s grinning at me like the cat who ate the canary, and I’m certain he knows something I don’t.

• • •

After dinner, I arrive at the penthouse first. It’s a stunning apartment in the heart of the city.

I take my time looking around, flipping on light switches as I go. Expansive views from an airy twentieth-floor balcony, a modern kitchen with a little Italian coffeemaker on the counter that I’m sure Selena will love, and expensive finishes everywhere I look—from the thick crown molding to the marble countertops to the hand-scraped oak flooring. It looks every bit like a marriage retreat. The walls and furniture, carpeting and linens are all in various shades of white and cream. It feels pure and untouched.

Honestly, it feels a bit like walking through a museum. It’ll take a while to think of this place as home. I’ve held on to my little bachelor pad near the F Line for so long now, I don’t like the idea of leaving it. But I know this is all for the best. A future with Selena is what my father wanted for me.

And speaking of fathers . . . a bottle of red wine and two glasses have been left on the counter with a note from Selena’s dad.

Justin,

Thank you for doing this, son. I won’t be around forever, and it feels so good to know that you will be there to take care of my little girl. I know you won’t let me down. There’s not another man I’d trust with both my company and my daughter. I hope you know that.

Very truly,

Fred Cane

I fold the paper into a square and stick it in my pocket. I realize that Selena’s dad always trusted me with her. Even when I was a horny sixteen-year-old kid with a new driver’s license, and she wasn’t allowed to date, I alone was awarded the privilege of taking her on outings. We boated, played mini golf, went to the movies, you name it.

I open the bottle to let it breathe and cross the room to look out on the city skyline below. I can’t help thinking back on all the good times Selena and I have shared. And the difficult ones too. We’ve been there for each other through the loss of our mothers and watching our company crumble.

I stand here thinking for so long, I lose track of time. Surprised, I blink back to reality and look at my watch. She’s late.

With a sinking feeling, I wonder if she’s even coming. Why in the fuck should I care if she wants to live here or not? She’s made it clear how she feels about me—how much she hates the idea of being stuck with me. I’m akin to a piece of dog shit on the bottom of her five-hundred dollar heels.

But I know there’s a lot more to it than that. I’ll be sorely disappointed if she decides not to show.

Finally, there’s a click in the lock. I try not to sprint to the door like a golden retriever.

Selena comes inside. I’m not sure what I expected, but she’s changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a lightweight sweater.

“Hey.” Leaving her suitcase by the door, she crosses the living room toward me.

“You’re an hour late,” I say as I make my way toward the kitchen.

“I was picking something up.” She sets a brightly colored shopping bag on the counter. “Something for you, actually.” She treats me to a rare, warm smile.

I watch as she removes a box from inside the shopping bag and sets it on the counter.

“Well . . . are you going to open it?” she asks.

I figured she’d want to see the apartment first, but I oblige, coming to stand beside her. I can smell the light notes of honeysuckle on her skin. Damn, that’s going to be distracting if we’re living together now. I’ll be in a constant state of arousal. Awesome.

I lift open the flap on the cardboard box and dig through the packaging until I find it.

“It’s a teapot,” I say, holding it up and inspecting it with curiosity.