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“A practical compromise, then.”
“Yes.”
He followed her to the far wall, where a couple of tall windows faced south.
“The light here would be ideal for a work area.” He motioned with his hands as he continued. “It could accommodate a desk here and some storage cabinets there. You could make use of the vertical space by putting in shelving.”
Rachel felt her creative juices begin to flow just thinking about it. She could picture the work area Tony was talking about. She liked it…with a little tweaking, of course. With a finger pressed to her lips, she turned in a semicircle.
Half to herself, she said, “I guess I could skimp on the master closet to free up more floor space.”
“Am I in your bedroom, signorina?”
Ridiculously, she felt her face heat as she watched Tony’s mouth curve. Oh, she knew that smile.
“Actually, you’re in my closet, right about where I was planning to put my shoes.”
He was undeterred.
“Do you have any stilettos, carina? In red perhaps?”
“Sorry. None.”
He made a tsking sound. “You need to buy some. They do wonderful things for a woman’s legs.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“And now?” He stepped toward her, close enough that she could smell his cologne. “Where am I standing now?”
They were where her bed would be. When she said nothing, Tony chuckled softly. “You will look lovely here in the morning light.”
The air backed up in her lungs. It took a moment, but she managed to exhale. Pointing to the right, she said, “The bathroom.”
“Hmm?”
“The bathroom. It will go here.” She stepped to where the construction crew had already framed in the walls with two-by-fours.
Tony wasn’t smiling. In fact, he was frowning. “But there is not enough room here for a proper tub.”
“It will have a shower only,” Rachel agreed on a sigh. What woman didn’t like the indulgence of a long, languid soak?
“You are always welcome at my home. I have a big tub.” That sinful smile spread over his face once again when he added, “Big enough to accommodate two.”
He was just flirting, she reminded herself. He didn’t mean anything by the words. Even so, she wanted to be sure he understood one thing clearly. She didn’t condone cheating. Having been the one cheated on, she wasn’t about to turn around and become the other woman, even if Tony and Astrid weren’t married or, for all she knew, exclusive. She turned to face him and said pointedly, “Perhaps you should be inviting Astrid to join you, then.”
“Astrid.” He studied the ceiling a moment as if considering, then shook his head. “Astrid and I are no longer seeing one another.”
Rachel knew her mouth was gaping open, but it took her a moment to snap it closed after mumbling, “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.” He tapped her nose.
Was he laughing at her? Rachel decided to concentrate on business. Did he still want the necklace? “Is this a recent development?”
“Not really. We said our official goodbyes in Stockholm.”
“But that was—”
“Prior to me returning to the States. Yes.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She flushed even though he hardly looked broken up about the relationship’s demise.
He didn’t shrug, but his words were the verbal equivalent when he said, “We enjoyed one another while it lasted, although never in my bathtub. These things happen.”
“Yes, they do.” Rachel’s tone was sharper than she intended.
This time, it was Tony who apologized. “That was an insensitive remark given your current circumstances.”
“At least you didn’t cheat on her,” Rachel replied without thinking.
“I never cheat, carina. Never.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him. Regardless, he wasn’t the sort of man who settled down. He was…the perfect rebound. She sucked in a breath and tried to shoo away the thought.
“Is everything all right?”
“Fine. I…I’m just surprised about the necklace. I assumed it was for a special occasion.”
“It is. A parting gift as well as a way to wish her luck with her career.”
“That’s very generous of you.” And no doubt it would ensure Astrid went on her way without any fuss or acrimony.
He did shrug this time. “I can afford to be generous. Because that is the case, women want things.”
Rachel frowned. “I’m offended on behalf of my gender.”
“Everyone wants something, carina.”
His level gaze left Rachel to wonder exactly what Tony wanted from her.
CHAPTER THREE
“THE house has been sold?” Stunned, Rachel plunked down in the chair in her office. The leather seat groaned even as she did.
On the other end of the telephone line, her real-estate agent, Flora LaBelle, was saying, “I’m just as surprised as you are. Of course, technically, both you and Mal have to accept the offer in order for the sale to go through, but I think you should. It’s a pretty decent one, especially for this soft market.”
“How decent? Full asking price?”
“Well, no. A little less than that.”
“By how much?”
Flora cleared her throat. “By about ten thousand dollars give or take a few hundred.”
“Oh.” And damn! This was not what Rachel wanted to hear. She’d hoped to get as close to the asking price as possible since she would have to split the equity with Mal. She needed every penny.
Flora wasn’t done. “The buyer also wants you to pick up the closing costs.”
That would be several thousand dollars more out of pocket. “Gee, is that all?”
Despite Rachel’s sarcastic tone, Flora continued. “And the buyer is requesting that all of the kitchen appliances stay with the house.”
“The appliances? They’re brand new.” Indeed, stainless-steel beauties that Rachel had picked out herself just before learning of Mal’s infidelity. “I was hoping to keep those.”
She and Mal had agreed on that in the settlement. Rachel had planned on them for the apartment’s kitchen to keep down the renovation costs.
Flora sighed. “You can buy new appliances, Rachel. I have other listings that have been on the market for months without so much as a nibble. You would be foolish to quash the sale over appliances.”
“Can’t we at least counter the offer?”
“Mal doesn’t want to,” Flora said.
“Mal? You’ve already talked to Mal?”
“I… Yes.”
“And he doesn’t want to at least see if we can get out of paying the closing costs?”
“He thinks the offer is fair.”
Which put the ball back in her court.
Flora was saying, “It could be months before another offer comes along, and even then it might not be as good as this one. It’s hard to say which direction the market is heading, Rachel. In the meantime, you’ll be making mortgage payments and the winter taxes are coming due. And Mal said the furnace is getting old.”
“I get it,” Rachel said, figuratively throwing up her hands in defeat. It was a game of roulette, one with a high cover. She couldn’t afford to take the risk.
“On the bright side, the buyer has agreed to forego a home inspection and take the house as is.”
“Thank God for small miracles. So, what do I need to do now?”
“I can swing by your shop in half an hour for you to sign the purchase agreement. Then I’ll get all of the other paperwork in order.”
“Terrific,” she muttered. “Assuming the sale goes through, how long before we close?”
Flora coughed again. Rachel was coming to dread the sound. “That’s another thing. The buyer is in a hurry to take possession.”
“Well, I’m not in a hurry to leave. My place here won’t be ready for months.” Rachel knew it was too optimistic to hope she had that long. “Any chance I can pay rent until I can move in here?”
“Sorry, but no.”
Rachel cursed silently. “Okay, what are we looking at?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks!” This time she cursed out loud. “I can’t do two weeks, Flora. Two months would be pushing it.”
“That’s the buyer’s terms, I’m afraid. And it’s non-negotiable.”
Rachel kneaded her brow. It was quiet overhead at the moment, but the shop was set to close in half an hour and the work crew would arrive. They’d accomplished a lot in the week since she and Tony had walked through her future home, but it would be weeks, months before the apartment was habitable.
“I know it’s unusual for a sale to close so quickly, but the buyer is preapproved for the loan and everything else is in order,” Flora said. “Of course, any additional costs in expediting the matter—courier service and things of that nature—will be borne by the buyer.”
“It’s about time they offered to pay something,” Rachel muttered.
“I’ll be by shortly with the papers,” Flora said.
Rachel barely heard her. Her house was sold. Where was she supposed to live until the apartment was ready?
* * *
The days ticked by even as she sought an answer to that question. Finally, all that remained between her and a date with a moving van was the weekend. Late in the afternoon on Friday, she paced the house from the all-white kitchen to the quiet bedrooms and then back down the hall to the living room. Out front, the For Sale sign her Realtor had staked on the leaf-scattered lawn bore the addition of a bright red SOLD! sticker. Rachel studied the sign as she cupped a mug of green tea in her chilled hands. As eager as she was to leave, she wasn’t ready to go.
She sipped the tea, swallowing it around the lump of dread in her throat. She’d boxed up some of her things, items she wouldn’t need right away. They were at the shop now, wedged into every nook and cranny she could spare. But that was about all she had accomplished. She hated moving, even if she wasn’t going to miss the house itself. Turning away from the window, she glanced around. Everything here was so beige and benign. All of the rooms were a study in monochromic understatement. She preferred a more eclectic decor—bursts of color, texture and pattern. But none of that was reflected here. She wasn’t reflected here. And that was her fault. She’d demurred to Mal’s sedate preferences to avoid argument and to keep the peace that her parents’ marriage had lacked.
Indeed, the house as a whole was a compromise. If it had been up to her, she and Mal would have lived in a rambling, restored farmhouse just outside of town. He’d vetoed that idea as soon as she’d brought it up, just after their wedding. Too much upkeep and too far from the city, he’d said. No, the newly built story-and-a-half in the Sherwood Forrest subdivision was the way to go. It was in an excellent school district, close to parks and shopping, and, as such, a better investment overall. Knowing what it had just sold for, Rachel wasn’t so sure.
Regardless, Monday would be here before she was ready for it if she didn’t get busy.
“So, what is Plan B going to be?” she murmured.
Her sister had offered the use of her one-bedroom apartment’s futon, and Rachel knew she would be welcome at her mother’s condominium. Neither option held any appeal, even as a last resort.
Taking up residence in the small, pink-walled room that still sported the canopy bed of her girlhood felt too much like taking a step backward. As for her sister’s closet-size apartment, Rachel needed more privacy than a bed in the living room would afford. Heidi’s lifestyle reflected her age and single status. She had a crazy work schedule and an active social life, which meant she came and went at all hours of the day. Besides, Rachel didn’t think her back could stand more than a night on the lumpy futon.
Her cell phone trilled as she made herself a second cup of tea.
“Promise not to hate me,” Heidi beseeched as soon as Rachel answered.
It was never a good sign when her sister started off a conversation that way. Rachel promised anyway.
“I told Dad about your divorce and housing situation.”
“Dad?” Rachel was too busy being surprised to be angry. “When and where did you see him?”
The last time their paths had crossed was two Christmases prior, when he’d moved back to the area after a year of selling real estate in Florida. A perfect occupation for him, Rachel had thought. If anyone could sell undesirable swamp land for top dollar, it would be Griff Preston. He’d promised to stay in touch. He hadn’t. No surprise there.
“Today. I ran into him at work of all places. He came in for lunch and sat in my section.” Heidi waited tables and sometimes tended bar at a private golf club. Even when the course was closed for the season, the clubhouse remained a favorite hangout for the CEO set and other business people. “He didn’t even recognize me at first.”
Her sister laughed. That was Heidi’s way. Live and let live. Rachel, however, fumed on her behalf. What kind of father didn’t recognize his own daughter?
