Prey by Linda Howard

my office after you left, then got back with me this morning after meeting with his banker, and made an offer.”
    She was so focused on containing her feelings that it took her a few seconds to actually make sense of what Harlan was saying. Her head whipped around. “An offer?” That was different from taking the deal, which was what he would have said if Callahan had met her price.
    “Yeah.” He turned his cup back and forth. “Would you be willing to take thirty thousand less?”
    Angie erupted from her chair, unable to sit still with so much red-hot anger pouring through her. Going to the window, she clamped her hands on the edge of the sink and held on hard as she stared out, not seeing anything but using the time to get control of herself. The bastard! The low-down, miserable bastard! He knew how tough things were for her, had to have figured out she was close to bankruptcy and
had
to sell; he also knew how miserable the real estate market was right now, and how difficult it was to get financing. He pretty much had her over a barrel, and he was using that to get the property at a dirt cheap price. She and Harlan had priced it to give her a little maneuvering room for negotiation, but not thirty thousand dollars worth!
    She didn’t have to accept the offer. Because Callahan hadn’t met her price, she was free to turn it down. But if she did, there was no guarantee she’d get another offer from someone else, and later on she might be so desperate she’d take even less money. Even worse: Did Harlan need the commission, even one based on the reduced price? Of course he did. How long had it been since he’d had a sale?
    So she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. Either way would cost her money. The more she delayed, the more of her money she’d lose in operating expenses—and if she took the deal right now, she’d lose it by taking the lower price.
    She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and did the adult thing. “Make a counteroffer. Come down ten thousand.” That would buy her some time while she did this guide trip, but wouldn’t eat up so much time that she’d lose a lot to operations. And, who knew? He might come up ten thousand. Maybe he’d be willing to truly negotiate. Maybe he couldn’t swing her asking price, or the bank hadn’t been willing, and had low-balled her on his offer to give himself some wiggle room. Anything was possible. Not likely, because she couldn’t make herself give him the benefit of the doubt, but possible.
    Harlan blew out a big sigh of relief. “Atta girl. I was afraid you’d turn him down flat.”
    “If I could afford to, I would. But if I could afford to, I wouldn’t be selling in the first place.”
    “I know.” Now that he could relax some, he took a big gulp of coffee. “I’ll see what he says. In the meantime, I’ll set things up with a home inspector and an appraiser, okay?”
    “Sure. Let me get you a key, in case you can get things rolling while I’m gone.”
    The extra key was in her bedroom. She took it from the bureau drawer and stood there a minute, clutching it in her hand while she did deep breathing exercises. She could do this. Even ifDare Callahan made the only offer, even if she couldn’t afford to turn him down, she could do this.
    He had to know that if he stuck to his guns, she could make counteroffers until she was blue in the face, but eventually she’d have to take his offer. The bastard.
    Angie was so furious that as soon as Harlan left, she made a beeline to the computer in the den and e-mailed her pals in Billings.
“Want to guess which asshole is trying to buy my place for thirty thou less than the asking price???”
    Not that they could do anything other than join in her outrage, and offer some outlandish but satisfying suggestions for revenge. That was the best thing about female friends: the instant, unquestioning support, regardless of common sense or practicality. They were all at work, of course, so she