When they left the café, Jasper Jett couldn't hide his excitement.
"Maeve, congratulations. You got what you wanted."
Maeve, who'd just secured both property and money, looked oddly calm.
She tapped a few times on her phone. "Thanks for today."
Jasper Jett ruffled her hair. "Between us, don't even say that. It's what I'm supposed to do."
As he spoke, a bank transfer notification popped up.
He opened it, and froze.
The sender was Maeve.
Maeve lifted her phone, as if presenting evidence. "Legal fees. Check your account."
Jasper Jett let out a helpless laugh. "You actually paid me?"
"You know me," Maeve said. "I don't owe anyone favors."
For a moment, Jasper Jett had nothing to say.
He'd known her long enough to understand—Maeve never let debts, emotional or financial, hang in the air.
Maybe that was why the people who truly liked her would go to bat for her.
"Fine," he said at last. "If Miss Vance insists on tipping, refusing would make me look rude."
He pocketed his phone. "To honor your trust, I'll start pulling strings right now. I'll do everything I can to make sure the house is legally yours within three days."
Until the deed officially carried Maeve's name, anything could still change.
Maeve didn't pretend to be polite about it. "Then I'm counting on you for the next few days."
Jasper Jett asked, "Where to? Want me to drive you?"
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