Coming Home to You (19 page)

She looked up from the stack of files she was perusing to shoot me a questioning look.

“I’ll be back in about an hour,” I called, trying to keep up with Ray.

“Ray, slow down!” I protested as we quick-stepped down the sidewalk to his car. “Or at least tell me what we’re doing.”

“Patience, my friend.
Patience
,” he replied, letting go of my hand to open the car door for me.

“Whatever it is, it’d better be good.” I ducked into the car and flopped ungracefully into the passenger seat.

Ray stuck his tongue out at me through the window as he shut the door, and I scrunched up my face to return the favor. I felt like I was in second grade.

“Why, Miss Trent, what would your mama say if she knew you were sticking your tongue out at nice young gentlemen?” Ray asked in mock horror as he settled into the seat next to me.

I smiled sweetly at him and coyly batted my eyelashes.

“She’d tell you she taught me everything I know,” I laughed.

“Oh, so insanity runs in the family, huh?”

I stuck my tongue out at him again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

I looked out the window as we drove, trying to figure out where we might be going. So far, I was at a complete loss. There really wasn’t anything that came to mind that would require such secrecy, but I knew that most of this was probably just for the fun that Ray was having in keeping me in the dark. I slid him a sidelong glance, keeping my face forward so that he wouldn’t know I was looking at him.

“I’m not going to give you any hints, so stare as much as you want,” he said soberly. “I’m not giving away anything. I am a vault.”

“Fine. Don’t. I don’t really care, anyway,” I replied sulkily, crossing my arms over my chest and scooting down in the passenger seat.

“You’d better wipe that pout off your face, ’cause we’re here,” Ray announced, putting the car into park and releasing his seatbelt.

I straightened up to look through the windshield and saw that we were parked in front of a real estate office. I turned to Ray, smiling.

“You nerd,” I snorted. “You could have told me we were coming here. I would have come willingly,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out of the car.

“Yes, I could have told you. But this was oh so much more fun.”

“Ah.”

“Ah? My, you
are
succinct. So what are you thinking right now?”

I thought for a moment.

“That this is weird. That I don’t really want to have to do this at all, if I’m going to be really honest about it.”

“So what would you rather do—live in Neil’s house for the rest of your life?” Ray snorted.

Would I?

The thought had never really occurred to me, but if I truly considered it, it really wouldn’t be a bad arrangement. And I’d gotten so used to living there that I wasn’t so sure I liked the idea of having to leave it behind.

Once Neil came home, though, things would be different. I really didn’t have a choice. It was his house, not mine. And I knew that any guy in his right mind wouldn’t want to share a house with some woman he didn’t know.

Unless…

I cocked an eyebrow at Ray.

“Would he mind having a roommate?” I asked, trying my best to sound casual.

“Um, yeah. No. He tried that a few times before, and it always blew up in his face, so I really don’t think he’d ever want to try it again. And besides, you’re a woman
on the prowl
. You need to have your own space to live your own life, you know?” He started walking toward the front door of the agency. “Now come on before we waste away your lunch hour,” he commanded, holding his hand out to me.

“You know, I could have done this on my own. I’m an independent woman with oodles of business savvy. I did, after all, land an awesome store front for a paltry sum, remember?”

“Yes, I do remember,” Ray replied with a laugh. “But I wanted to do this for you. What are friends for, huh? And am I hearing things, O savvy, independent business woman, or did you just say
oodles
?” He cocked an eyebrow and chuckled as he ushered me through the glass-fronted door.

“Oh shut up,” I mumbled, walking through the open door into an overly air-conditioned office.

Into the next phase of my fate.

“Good afternoon,” the glossy-haired Barbie doll sitting at the reception desk chirped as we walked in. She flashed a winning smile. “Welcome to Dwell Properties, where our priority is to find somewhere for you not only to
live
, but to
dwell
. Is there something in particular I can help you folks with today?”

I almost snickered at her use of the word
folks
and the corny, canned speech; but I refrained. I reasoned that it might not make such a good impression to insult the office staff after only three seconds in the door.

Better to wait five.

“Actually, there is,” Ray said, slipping his arm around my shoulder. “We’re needing to find a new apartment, and we’d like a little help finding one.”

Barbie’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, I’m sure we can help you with that. What are your names?” she asked brightly.

“I’m Ray, and this is Zoë,” Ray answered before I could open my mouth.

“I’m Josie. It’s
so
nice to meet you,” she gushed. “Let me get you in with one of our realtors, and she’ll have you set in no time.” She leaned over her desk to push a button on her phone, then picked up the handset. “It’s Josie. I have a
lovely
young couple out here that need your assistance in finding a new apartment. Should I send them in?” she said into the mouthpiece, never taking her eyes off Ray or me and never losing her high-wattage.

She nodded.

“Okay,” she said after a brief pause, then replaced the phone in its cradle.

She clapped her hands together and stood up abruptly, still twinkling as she rounded her desk and came toward us.

“You’re in luck. Our best agent is here and can see you right now, if you’ll just follow me.”

She turned on her heel and sashayed down a narrow hallway that was painted a muted harvest gold.

I caught Ray’s arm, pulling him close enough that Josie wouldn’t hear me.

“
We?
” I hissed, shooting him a look. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me on this,” he hissed back, flashing a reassuring smile and marching me down the hall in pursuit of Josie and her sashaying hips.

She was waiting for us in front of an antique-looking door, which she opened after two quick knocks. The office inside was spectacular, with exposed beams and cathedral windows, which were fronted by an antique farm table. Matte eggplant walls were bordered by rich white trim, a complement to the sleek, silver Mac that sat atop the table. Towering piles of folders flanked the computer, nearly obscuring the woman deeply engrossed in her work as we entered.

“Sara, this is Ray and Zoë,” Josie smiled at us. “I’ll leave the three of you to discuss things,” she said, making her way out of the office.

“Thank you, Josie,” Sara said, never glancing up from the paperwork she was signing.

The door shut softly behind us, leaving Ray and me alone with Sara, who seemed not to notice that we were there. It gave me a minute to study her as she sat there, the queen of her well-appointed domain.

There was something vaguely familiar about her, though I was at a loss as to why. She capped her pen and placed it on the papers, finally looking up at us. After flashing a superficial smile, she rose from her chair and extended her hand.

“Hi, I’m Sara Maxwell.”

Sara. This was the same Sara that was in the picture with Neil. I looked at Ray to see his reaction to the woman who stood in front of us. From the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t expected to see her, either. He quickly recovered, though, accepting her hand and returning her smile.

“Ms. Maxwell,” he said with a slight nod.

Ray released her from the handshake quickly, allowing her to move on to me. There was no show of familiarity between them, no sign that they were long-lost friends who might have years to catch up on over coffee. Sara took my hand in hers, her grip firm and cool. She looked me in the eye a brief moment, then broke her gaze as soon as she let go of my hand.

I glanced furtively at Ray, wondering what all this was about, but he was inscrutable.

“Please,” Sara said, gesturing toward the two visitors’ chairs that fronted the table. “Take a seat and make yourselves comfortable.”

We arranged ourselves in the chairs as she moved back around the table and reclaimed her place behind the computer. Mouse clicking and keyboard tapping ensued, allowing me more time to sit back and study her.

She was definitely older and harder-looking than she had been in the picture, which might have been one reason she hadn’t been immediately recognizable to me. Her hair was shorter, cut in an angular bob that was longer in the front than in the back, expensively and expertly highlighted. The angles of her face were sharper and more defined, and I wondered if she might have had some work done.

“So tell me. What are you looking for in an apartment?” she asked, finally breaking the silence that had settled on the room.

This was supposed to be my territory, but I really hadn’t been prepared to have to answer that question. I hadn’t even given it much thought in the past few months. I looked at Ray, hoping that he could sense my need for help. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair.

“Well, we’d really like something with some good space. Nothing extravagant, because that’s simply not in our budget, but… One bedroom, one bath should be enough. A nice kitchen would be great, something with enough storage and counter space to actually use,” he listed off.

“Something with good natural light? And I’d really like to stay at this end of Pensacola,” I added.

She nodded, almost dismissively, as though she was only half-hearing what we were saying as she stared back at her computer screen. Her manner was sharp and harsh, seeming to match the angularity of her features.

Ray and I looked at each other. I desperately wanted to ask him if he thought Sara’s lack of recognition was genuine, but I knew the questions would have to wait.

“I think we have a few things in the area that would be of some interest to you,” Sara said, clicking some more things and tapping some more keys and sending things to various places and various printers. “Were you wanting to see any properties today, or would you like to set up a few walk-throughs so that you can take your time looking things over?” she asked, finally looking back at us.

I shot Ray a bewildered look, and he nodded in understanding.

“Well, we’re pushing it a little right now for time. If you wouldn’t mind getting a few properties together for us to look at, and we’ll schedule some time?” Ray was the most serious I’d ever seen him, and it was oddly unnerving.

I watched Sara as she gathered papers from her printers and arranged them precisely and efficiently, the flow of her movements artful. She was quick, but nothing about her seemed hurried or frenetic. She was in complete control of her domain.

Somehow, it made me feel incompetent in comparison. I looked down at my hands, folded in my lap, and realized that I was unconsciously toying with the naked ring finger of my left hand.

I wanted to leave. I wanted to get up from my chair and run out of the office and never come back here. It was ridiculous, I knew, but I hated how the woman sitting in front of me made me feel. I glanced quickly at Sara’s left hand to check for a ring of any kind, but the only rings on her fingers were the kind that communicated a very large paycheck and very expensive taste.

The room, though beautifully appointed, also showed no signs of a family life. There were a few personal touches, but no photos of vacations in Tahiti or Venice or any of the places one might expect to find a woman so financially sound. I wondered if there was a man in her life, or if it was something that she didn’t feel the need to announce.

A mere detail of her life—the life of a very independent, very strong woman who needed no one to define her.

On one hand, I envied the strength that she seemed to exude; but I couldn’t also help feeling a little sad for her. There was something undeniably there, like a scar. I wondered if it had anything to do with Neil, wondered what changes the relationship had wrought on her life. He was still walking around, a living and breathing reminder, while the catalyst in my own life was no longer there. I didn’t have the worry that the man I was no longer in a relationship with would round the corner at the grocery store and upend the control I had on my day. I didn’t have to worry that he would walk into a movie theater with another woman, unwittingly destroying the composure that was so carefully maintained on a daily basis. Maybe that was the one saving grace of death.

I shook my head at the thought, reminding myself that all of this was mere conjecture on my part. I had no idea how the relationship had ended, who had been at fault, what had been the deciding factor that now separated these two lives. Hell, I didn’t even know if Neil was the cause of the changes in this woman who now replaced the soft, carefree woman I had seen in the photograph. It had been almost four years since that picture had been taken, and any number of things could have happened since then.

And really, I didn’t have any idea of how long or how serious the relationship had been. They could have had a passing fling, a quick rendezvous in Paris that ended as quickly as it had begun. I had no idea, and Ray had been absolutely no help on that score. When I’d finally gotten around to asking him about the picture, he’d done nothing more than stare down at the seemingly blissful couple before shrugging noncommittally and telling me that they had ended things years ago. Apparently, it had not ended well.

When Ray shifted in his chair and rose to shake Sara’s hand, I realized they had been talking the whole time I’d been sitting there ruminating. I’d missed the entire exchange.

“I’ll call you on Wednesday, then,” she said with a reserved smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, and I wondered if she was always so impenetrable. Where were the chinks in her armor?