Her Own Rules by Barbara Taylor Bradford Read Free Book Online

Bradford
    house, and by cashing in some of our other assets, we can raise three million. But that’s it.”
    Meredith gave her a long and thoughtful look but made no comment. Leaning forward, she picked up her cup of coffee and took a sip.
    Morrison said, “What do you say, Mrs. Stratton?
    Will you accept three million?”
    “No,” Meredith said, looking him right in the eye. “I can’t. As I told you, when I first decided to sell Hilltops, my original price was four and a half million dollars, because that is its true value . It’s in perfect condition. New roof, new plumbing, and new wiring in the last few years, among many other major improve-ments. And there’s a great deal of land attached to the inn. I came down in price only because it was suggested I do so by my advisers, in order to sell now. But I must stick at four million.”
    “Three million and a quarter,” Morrison countered.
    Meredith pursed her lips and shook her head. “Four.”
    “Three and a quarter,” he offered again.
    Meredith let out a small sigh and gave the Morrisons a slow, resigned smile, glancing from one to the other.
    “I tell you what, I’ll take three million seven hundred and fifty thousand.”
    “I just can’t do it,” Philip Morrison said.
    “But it’s a bargain,” Meredith stated quietly. “If you consider that the proper price is really four and a half million, I’ve just come down by three quarters of a million dollars.”
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    Philip Morrison smiled wryly. “But we’ve always been talking four million, not four and a half , Mrs.
    Stratton, let’s not forget that, shall we?”
    Meredith made no response.
    She rose and walked across to the bank of windows overlooking the lake, and stood there staring out at the view for a few moments.
    Finally, when she swung around, she said, “You want the inn. I want to sell it. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll compromise. I’ll sell it to you for three point five million.”
    The Morrisons exchanged pointed glances.
    At last Philip Morrison said, “I’d like to do it, but I just don’t think I can. I can’t raise any more.”
    “You could go to your bank,” Meredith suggested,
    “and get a loan, or, better still, a mortgage on the inn.”
    Philip Morrison stared at her. But he remained silent.
    “I can introduce you to the right bank,” Meredith volunteered, wanting to conclude the deal.
    “Do you think they would give me a mortgage on the inn?” he asked, taking the bait.
    “I’m pretty certain, yes. There’s something else I’ll do. I’ll have my real estate lawyer structure a reason-able payment schedule, one that won’t cripple you.”
    Elizabeth Morrison said, “That’s very decent of you.”
    Meredith answered, “I want to make the deal and I don’t want to gouge you. You want to make the deal and I’m sure you don’t want to cheat me.”
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    “Never! We’re not people like that!” the other woman exclaimed indignantly.
    “I must say, you’re making it very tempting,” Morrison muttered, directing his gaze at Meredith. “Making it hard to resist.”
    “Then don’t resist, Mr. Morrison,” Meredith said, walking back to the fireplace.
    He got to his feet when she drew to a stop next to his chair.
    Meredith thrust out her hand. “Come on, let’s not haggle. Let’s make the deal. It’s good for us both, beneficial to us both.”
    He hesitated only fractionally. Then he took her hand and shook it. “All right, Mrs. Stratton, you’ve got a deal. Three and a half million dollars it is.”
    Meredith nodded and smiled at him.
    He returned her smile.
    Elizabeth Morrison came over and shook Meredith’s hand.
    Paul Ince, who had been on pins and needles throughout this negotiation, congratulated everyone, then said, “I think this calls for a toast. Let’s go to the bar and I’ll open a bottle of Dom Pérignon.”
    “What a great idea, Paul,” Meredith said, leading the way out of the