Hot Property (13 page)

Long after the doctor had gone, Betsy
continued milling around inside the unfinished house, placing her
furniture. Thinking she’d need to purchase several more pieces if
she were to fill all the rooms.

At some point, she realized what she was
doing, dreaming the impossible. She couldn’t afford the house. But
the doctor could. On top of that, he wanted to make the purchase by
Christmas. The news would be music to Skylar’s ears.

Okay, the opportunity to prove she could
sell the house at the asking price and do it before the end of the
year would give her reason to celebrate. After all, she’d be
proving to both Skylar and Mary she could do the impossible.

But Betsy had no intention of celebrating
now or after the completion of the sale.

She drove home in a state of depression when
she should have been singing to the catchy tune playing on the
radio.

Maybe if I’d find another piece of land?
Maybe then, after giving my plan direction again, selling Skylar’s
house would be cause for celebration, Betsy contemplated.

At least if the doctor bought the house she
wouldn’t have to deal with Stephanie moving into it. Betsy couldn’t
see that woman content with the serenity of country living anyway.
She doubted she’d even notice the breathtaking views from nearly
every window in the house.

There had to be another hilltop like this
one. But for the life of Betsy, she hadn’t the slightest idea where
as she started down the hillside.

The next several weeks came and went like a
whirlwind. The real estate business continued to boom like never
before and Betsy tried not to think about the bottom falling out in
the near future. Besides, there was no indication her worse fear
would hit any time soon.

So why then did she have this eerie feeling
something bad was about to happen? She tried to shrug it off as she
went in her office and plopped down behind her desk.

It had been a long morning. And the
afternoon ahead looked even longer, Betsy saw as she scanned the
page in her appointment book for this October day.

The telephone began ringing off the hook
before Betsy remembered Mary had gone to lunch and she was covering
the office.

“Good afternoon, The Alexander and Gold Real
estate Agency. Betsy speaking…. Doctor Coleman!”

Betsy’s premonition that something terrible
was about to happen had been accurate. She listened to the
excitement in his voice and began to panic. But she couldn’t lie to
him when he asked if Skylar’s house was still available.

“Yes…. That’s impossible. I’m booked solid
for the next several days,” she told him when he asked if his wife
could see the house this afternoon.

Betsy wasn’t being dishonest. But if his
wife wanted to see any other house besides Skylar’s, she’d work her
into her tight schedule.

When he mentioned he’d settle for one of
Betsy’s sales staff doing the showing, Betsy almost forgot herself
and laughed out loud. Instead of giving him some line about her
sales force being swamped as well, she was more than happy to give
him the truth.

“I’m the only sales force at this agency. So
your wife is just going to have to wait.”

“Well we’ll see about that,” vibrated
against Betsy’s eardrum. The bang came next when he slammed down
the receiver.

Betsy took a deep breath. When she exhaled,
a giggle slipped out. “We’ll see about that,” she mocked him as she
focused on the sales agreement she had in front of her.

She’d become totally absorbed in completing
the contract after several telephone interruptions. Then there had
been a customer who walked in off the street to inquire about a
duplex the agency had listed. She was finally finishing filling out
the contract when she heard the front door open.

Betsy didn’t bother jumping up to see who
entered the building. She assumed it was Mary returning from lunch.
But within seconds Betsy saw and heard it wasn’t Mary.

“And this is what you call being booked
solid?” Skylar’s voice boomed from the doorway.

Betsy felt a cold chill shuttle up her spine
at the sound of his voice. But when she peered up and saw him in
the doorway, his hands pressed against the top of the frame, warmth
filled her. But she couldn’t let him know what seeing him was doing
to her, even when she was willing the rock-like shield to surround
her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Doctor Coleman called me,” he said. Only
now, his tone was just above that husky whisper Betsy found
irresistible.

Betsy was unable to meet his sharp gaze for
fear she’d begin to melt. As she looked blankly at the contract on
her desk, she said a firm, “I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” Skylar growled, his
tone louder. “The doctor seems to be chomping at the bit to sign on
the dotted line to seal the deal on my house.”

“Perhaps. But that’s not saying his wife
shares his eagerness.”

“And we wouldn’t know that until she has a
chance to see it, which she will be doing shortly.”

“What?” Betsy blurted, alarmed.

“If you are too busy to do your job then I
guess I’ll have to do it for you.” Skylar’s tone was bitingly
critical.

“I am extremely busy. But I was planning to
show her your house.”

“When? You know if I wanted to I could save
myself a fat commission and sell the house to the doctor
myself.”

His words set a fire of anger inside Betsy.
It wouldn’t surprise her if he tried to pull something like that.
He probably got the idea from Stephanie, who had attempted to do
the same.

Instead of exploding with rage as she felt
like doing, Betsy was determined to be professional.

“Need I remind you that you signed a binding
agreement with this agency? Even if you choose to sell the house on
your own, you will still owe the agency the commission agreed
upon.”

Skylar had stepped up to her desk. His front
teeth clamped together as he growled. “Need I remind you I can have
that contract voided for non-performance on your part?”

Betsy inhaled deeply to quiet her anger and
at the same time got wind of his cologne. She fought hard to keep
from becoming intoxicated from the scent, or from the warmth as his
breath touched her.

Stop it, she told herself. You must respond
to him. Not physically as she was, but verbally.

“How do you know I don’t have another
interested party in your house?”

Dead silence the few seconds before he
spoke. “Well if you do, I better have a full priced offer in
writing on my desk by noon tomorrow.”

Betsy watched him turn that tall bulky frame
of his around and start for the doorway. He hesitated, then looked
back at her long enough to give another warning. “Otherwise, it
becomes the doctor’s, and you’re out the twenty-one grand in
commission, Miss Betsy Alexander.”

Betsy was unable to swallow back the lump of
anger that had formed in her throat. And because she was unable to
scream at him, she picked up the telephone book, the heaviest
unattached item on her desk and winged it into the doorway Skylar
had exited through.

A few seconds later Mary appeared in the
doorway. “Is it safe to come in?”

Betsy heaved an angry sigh. “I don’t know
how much you heard--”

“Most of it,” Mary confessed as she entered
Betsy’s office. “You do have another buyer, don’t you?”

“I said I might,” Betsy offered. But that is
where it ended. “Now that you’re back, I have an appraisal to do,”
she said and left, leaving Mary standing stupefied.

Betsy zipped through her afternoon
appointments. But her mind was not on her work. Skylar, his house,
and that warning he had finalized his visit with, was at the
forefront of her thoughts continually.

Perhaps this was the reason she was driving
on the country road that brought her to the base of that special
hilltop.

Betsy coasted to a stop where she had so
many times before on her motorcycle. And as her eyes found that
magical peak, she heard a voice from within whisper. “This is it,
Betsy. That round cloud of white that reached up and touched heaven
is your dream house.”

“Yes,” Betsy answered with a smile. “It is
exactly what I’ve always been dreaming about.”

She remained behind the steering wheel of
her sports car staring at her future home for several minutes.
During that time, not once would she permit negative thoughts. She
would somehow convince the bank to loan her the money.

After all, with business booming again, she
was earning enough to make that enormous mortgage payment. But just
in case the bank balked, she was willing to sell her Harley and car
to eliminate those monthly payments. She’d even give up her steady
diet of fast food and sandwiches and survive on bread and water.
She had to have that house and refused to lose it to the doctor or
anybody else.

She fired up the engine and pulled back onto
the road. She did not head for home. Her next stop was parking
across the street from her darkened office building.

She unlocked the front door and slipped
inside making sure to lock the door behind her. Instead of wasting
time booting up the computer alongside Mary’s desk and searching
for the right forms, she hurried up to her own office and pulled a
blank agreement of sale from her top desk drawer, rolled it into
her ancient typewriter and began pecking away at the keys. She
filled in name and address of seller and buyer, location of the
property that would be transferred.

It was when Betsy began typing in the
purchase price she was agreeing to pay that she hesitated. Instead
of offering the full asking price, she added one dollar to her
three hundred thousand offer.

“A little added security,” she said to
herself and snickered.

She firmly believed if the doctor had
already told Skylar he’d pay full price, Skylar would find the
extra dollar she was offering an amusing gesture, hopefully enough
to make him accept.

Sure, it was risky, but so had been starting
a business that was never predictable. Just like letting down her
guard around a man had been. And even though she had gotten burned,
vowing never to let it happen again, she had felt what it was like
to fall in love, an experience she believed would always be a part
of her.

She put her signature to the contract and
slipped it into a legal-sized envelope.

“You’ll have your full price offer in
writing before noon tomorrow,” chanted Betsy as she picked up the
envelope and carried it with her to her car.

It was dark outside when Betsy started for
home. The thought of personally delivering the contract to Skylar
at his home crossed her mind. But she decided against doing so
thinking he was probably out somewhere entertaining Stephanie. What
she refused to consider was showing up on his doorstep and finding
him home alone.

Betsy was up at the crack of dawn. The truth
is she never went to bed. First, she gave her apartment a thorough
cleaning. The laundry finally got finished. Then, she tackled the
stack of reading she had with the hope of it winding her down so
she could sleep. No chance of that though.

After she showered and dressed she took a
moment to admire herself in the floor length mirror attached to the
back of her closet door.

The black heels added three inches to her
height, making her shapely taupe colored nylon legs look longer.
The snug fitting black sleeveless dress accentuated her curves. It
was the gold half sleeved jacket that gave energy to the otherwise
plain outfit.

She had taken a few extra minutes to style
her hair and it showed. There was more fullness to the short waves
on the top. A few strands of bangs dripped over her arched brows,
which Betsy felt gave sex appeal. She even went to the trouble of
using a dash of blush and eye shadow with the mascara and lipstick
she normally wore.

Betsy winked at her reflection and was off,
remembering to pick up the legal-sized envelope she had dropped on
the coffee table when she came in last night.

There wasn’t a trace of fear anywhere near
her when she pulled away from the house and headed toward the most
pressing business of the day. But when she turned off the country
road onto the private one that went up the hillside, the panic set
in.

She flipped off the heater she had needed
when she first started out, because right now she was beginning to
perspire.

“You have to pull yourself together,” she
ordered herself.

A difficult task now that she had spotted
old Betsy sandwiched between two larger trucks on the hilltop. The
one she recognized as Charlie Webbers, Skylar’s foreman. Apparently
another member of the work crew owned the other.

Betsy knew Skylar had given her until noon
to have the full priced offer in writing and in his office. But she
couldn’t wait until then. And she somehow knew she’d find Skylar
working on the house by daybreak. Right now, as she shut down the
engine, she wished she had assumed wrong.

Trembling fingers picked up the envelope
from the passenger seat. She stepped out of the car and
straightened her dress taking a deep breath as she shoved back her
shoulders before heading through the front doorway, still minus a
door. But Betsy was too busy willing her nerves not to tighten to
notice.

She heard voices and hammering coming from
the rear of the house and followed them. Her heels clicking as she
walked across the hard wood floor. She froze in the doorway to the
kitchen.

The sudden silence sent a chill through her.
Then the heat. A powerful burst rocketing through her when she
noticed at least six pair of eyes on her.

It took her a full minute before her eyes
met with his. Out of all the stares her eyes had briefly met as
they glanced around the room, his didn’t appear to be undressing
her. Instead, they seemed to be demanding an answer for the
interruption she had created in his crew’s work.