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“We have houses that start anywhere from six-hundred thousand dollars to ten times that,” she informed him. “Care to narrow down the neighborhood just a little?”
“Why don’t we start somewhere in the middle and work our way up?” he suggested.
“Sounds like a plan,” she answered glibly, wishing her imagination would stop getting carried away with every word Robert Manning uttered. He was looking for a house and she, apparently, was looking for affirmation. Affirmation that should be coming from Jason, Laurel reminded herself, not from a man who had triumphed over his shortcomings and made good.
CHAPTER 8
Laurel managed to take exactly two steps past the office threshold before Jeannie came rushing up to meet her.
It was nearly three-and-a-half hours later. There were five other real estate agents in the office now, four women and a man. They were either on the phone or talking with clients. Three “civilians” were in the office, seated on chairs directly beside the various desks. The sound of voices, point and counterpoint, buzzed in the air.
Only Jeannie was a free agent at the moment. Her desk, Laurel noted when she glanced over in that direction, was littered with files. Having fallen behind in her paperwork, the way she periodically did, she’d obviously spent the afternoon trying to catch up.
And just as obviously, Jeannie had been watching the door for her return, Laurel thought.
Paperwork, she knew, bored Jeannie to tears. The woman craved drama, mystery and live interaction. Apparently, in lieu of her beloved soap operas, which provided all three, Jeannie had decided to declare her all three, at least for the afternoon.
“You were gone a long time with Mr. Hunk.” There was no missing the implication pulsating behind each word. Laurel paused at the main bulletin board to move the pin beside her name from the box labeled “out” to the one labeled “in.” “Anything worthwhile come of it?” Jeannie pressed.
“His name is Robert Manning,” Laurel told her, hoping Jeannie would stop referring to the man as “Hunk.” She made her way to her desk. “We went to high school together. And I was showing him houses. A whole bunch of houses.” Draping her trench coat over the back of her chair, she glanced past her shoulder at the other woman. “Fifteen in all before he finally decided he’d had enough.”
Hearing something that piqued her interest, Jeannie had stopped listening to the rest of what Laurel had said. “You went to high school together?” She shifted around to the front of the desk as Laurel sat down. “You never mentioned that there was anyone that gorgeous in your background.”
“That’s because he wasn’t.” She could see the simple disclaimer just raised more questions. Laurel took a fortifying breath and added, “In my background or gorgeous.”
Jeannie clucked and shook her head. “Time for glasses, Laurel.” Instead of returning to her own desk and sitting down, Jeannie planted herself in the chair meant for incoming clients. “I told you it would catch up to you, all that fine print you always insisted on reading.”
Laurel supposed it wouldn’t hurt to give her friend a few more details. Jeannie would just continue to chip away at her until she got what she wanted.
“Bobby—Robert,” she corrected, “didn’t look like that when I knew him.”
Interest continued to grow in Jeannie’s soft brown eyes at a very prodigious rate. “A late bloomer?” she guessed.
“Very late,” Laurel confirmed. She lowered her voice, leaning in toward the other woman. “And before you let that overactive imagination of yours take you running down soap-opera lane, all I did was show him houses,” she enunciated clearly. “Is that understood?”
Jeannie’s expression all but shouted, “Yeah, right.” Out loud, she asked skeptically, “For over three hours?”
Jeannie, Laurel thought, needed some romance in her life.
Don’t we all?
“They’re not exactly located on the same block,” she pointed out. “It takes time to go from one property to another. Time to look around. Time to call the owners and let them know someone was coming.” She wasn’t saying anything that Jeannie didn’t know, she thought. The other woman had been at the game the same amount of time she had.
Jeannie looked disappointed. After a beat, she shrugged away the potential vicarious experience, making the best of it. “So, did you make any headway?”
She and Robert had driven from one house to another, each a little more elegant, a little more expensive than the last. He’d found something wrong with each one of them, apologizing even as he turned them down as potential candidates to be considered.
It got to the point that she doubted his sincerity.
Her back ached, her feet ached and her mouth ached—from smiling. And talking. Robert had asked a great many questions about each house they viewed. “He said he hasn’t found the one he’s looking for.”
A glimmer of a knowing look reentered Jeannie’s eyes as she looked at her. “Maybe he wasn’t talking about the houses.”
Okay, enough was enough. Admittedly flattering though the attention might have been, there was reality to consider. Laurel lowered her voice even more, until her words came out in a low growl. “Jeannie, I’m pregnant, remember?”
“They say that pregnant women are desirable.”
“No, pregnant women want to be desirable,” Laurel contradicted. God knows she had in her last three pregnancies. This time, the need was almost immediate. But that was because Jason had kept returning to the fact that she was “old.” “And who exactly are ‘they’?”
Jeannie spread her hands. “They. Them. The ones in the know.”
Laurel shook her head. “The ones who pretend to know.”
A touch of pity entered Jeannie’s expressive eyes. “Boy, pending motherhood has made you cynical.”
Laurel glanced around to see if anyone else in the office was listening to this exchange. But everyone seemed to be caught up in their own worlds. She was safe to try to make her point.
“I’m not pending, Jeannie, I am a mother, remember?” she said with as much feeling as a whisper could sustain. “And please, don’t say anything to anyone.” She glanced at the woman whose desk was closer than the others. “I’d really rather Sally Houseman didn’t find out before my sons did.”
Jeannie nodded, as if that was already understood. “I take it you didn’t tell Mr. Hunk about the little bun in the oven, either.”
“Manning, his name is Manning, not Hunk and my condition has nothing to do with the sale of a house,” Laurel fairly hissed. Just then, the phone on her desk began to ring. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to take that.”
Jeannie reluctantly rose to her feet as Laurel reached for the receiver.
“Laurel Mitchell,” Laurel said as she placed the receiver to her ear.
“I think I’d rather think of you as Laurel Taylor,” the whimsical voice on the other end of the line told her.
Stunned, it took Laurel a second to find her voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeannie watching her with interest as she retreated to her own desk.
What was he doing, calling her? She’d left Robert in the parking lot not more than two minutes ago. At the time, she’d assumed he was going to go home. Or rather, to his parents’ house, where he was staying until he found something of his own.
“Did you forget something?” she asked him.
“Yes. I forgot to ask you if you’d like to go out for a drink later after you finish. Maybe do a little catching up.”
They’d covered some ground while she drove him from property to property. Obviously not enough ground in his opinion. Or was there something else on his mind?
Warmth began to creep up her neck again.
Pregnant and hot flashes. Terrific.
“Laurel, are you there?” she heard Robert ask when she didn’t answer.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m sorry, I was just checking my calendar.” It was a lie, but it was all she could think of at the spur of the moment. “I’m afraid I can’t tonight. I have a previous commitment.”
The previous commitment was one she’d yet to make. She’d already decided to gather the family together tonight to tell them about the baby. The longer she put it off, the greater the chance that one of them was going to find out by accident. Either she or Jason would let something slip. This wasn’t the kind of thing that she wanted to just haphazardly come out. If nothing else, this deserved some kind of announcement.
“With my husband,” she added, realizing that Robert might misconstrue her words to sound as if she was taking a rain check.
“Bring him along,” Robert invited. “I’d like to meet the man who snagged the queen of the prom.”
The queen of the prom.
That had been her, all right. About a million light-years ago. She was surprised that Robert knew about that. They hadn’t traveled in the same circles. He hadn’t had a circle at all when he was in high school.
She was being silent again, she realized. “I didn’t know you went to the prom.”
The quiet laugh caused more warmth to travel along her body. She valiantly ignored the sensation. “I went stag. To see how the other half lived.” She could almost hear him smiling. “I wanted to ask you to dance, but I figured I didn’t have a shot. There were just too many guys around you.”
All that was a blur in her past. “That was a very long time ago.”
“Not that long,” he contradicted gently. “You still look like a prom queen.”
Oh God, why couldn’t Jason say something like that?
Feeling a bit self-conscious, she laughed. “One who has been left back a dozen years or so. Look, I really can’t make it tonight, but maybe another time. I’d like you to meet Jason.” Maybe some of you can rub off on him.
“Just name the time and the place,” Robert told her. “I’ll look forward to it. And call me if you have any other listings to show me.”
“Count on it.”
Laurel replaced the receiver in its cradle, a very odd feeling rifling through her.
“Can’t get enough of you, huh?”
She almost jumped. When had Jeannie crossed back to her desk? “He just wanted to get together to go over a few details.”
“The corner of your mouth twitches when you lie,” Jeannie informed her cheerfully. “Just thought you’d want to know.” She winked. “Just in case.”
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