Her Own Rules/Dangerous to Know by Barbara Taylor Bradford Read Free Book Online

deal.
    Not giving him an opportunity to start the ball rolling, Meredith jumped in with both feet.
    Staring directly at him, fixing him with an appraising eye, she said, “I know you’ve been back to look at Hilltops many times now, and that you both like it. The question is, do you really want to buy it?”
    â€œYes,” Philip Morrison said. “At the right price. For us, that is.”
    â€œThe price is four million dollars, Mr. Morrison. I think my real estate lawyer in the city has already told you that.”
    â€œHe did. But as I told Mr. Melinger, it’s a bit steep for me.”
    â€œActually, the inn is worth four million dollars, even more if the truth be known,” Meredith pointed out. “As a matter of fact, it’s true value is four and a half million dollars. You can check that with the real estate people both here and in the city. It just so happens that I’m willing to take less because I’m expanding my company Otherwise, I’d hold out for the proper price, I can assure you.”
    â€œI’ll give you three million,” Philip Morrison said, glanced at his wife, and added, “That’s all we can pay, isn’t it, Liz?”
    Momentarily startled to suddenly be drawn into this exchange, she looked nonplussed. Then she said quickly, emphatically, “We’re selling our Manhattan co-op and hoping to get a mortgage on the Lakeville 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?”
    â€œNo,” 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 improvements. 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.”
    â€œThree million and a quarter,” Morrison countered.
    Meredith pursed her lips and shook her head. “Four.”
    â€œThree 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.”
    â€œI just can’t do it,” Philip Morrison said.
    â€œBut 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.”
    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.”
    â€œYou 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.
    â€œI can introduce you to the right bank,” Meredith volunteered, wanting to conclude the deal.
    â€œDo you think they would give