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Summary
“I’m not selling,” he tells her, and grips the edge of the door.
As it swings in, Helena places one palm firmly against the wood. “I came all this way to speak with you. It’s cold, and I have a long drive back. It would be very rude of you not to invite me in for a hot beverage.”
Mark looks past her shoulder to the hulking black SUV parked haphazardly across the dirt track. Snow has already begun dusting the windshield. The sooner he invites her inside, the sooner she can leave. Then she won’t be his problem when the storm picks up.
“Thirty minutes,” he mutters. “Then you have to go.”
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Or. Helena Eagan is the Lumon executive trying to build a birthing retreat in Damona woods, and Mark Scout is the grumpy recluse who won't sell his land.