Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) (10 page)

George nodded at Beau, amused that Olivia seemed to be looking everywhere but in Beau’s direction, though he was standing where she needed to pass in order to leave.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said finally. She eased past Beau, brushing against his arm in her haste to get away.

Beau sat down in the chair Olivia had vacated. “So, how did it go?”

“Smoothly. She asked good questions.” He looked at his partner. “She certainly isn’t like Heidi, is she?”

“Thank God for that.” Beau chuckled.

“What exactly happened last night that the lovely Ms. Brown insisted on talking to me instead of you?”

“Nothing.” He smirked. “Nothing at all.”

“You’re rubbing your chin. I don’t believe you … about the nothing part.”

Beau raised both arms as if in surrender. “Nothing! At least not what you’re thinking. I took her home and she went in. End of story.”

“Hmm.” George flipped a pen between his fingers. “Well, something tells me that gorgeous woman didn’t think it was nothing.”

“Maybe she was embarrassed that she lost her dinner, and got a little woozy from the wine. Honestly, George, nothing happened. I swear.”

“But you wanted to. Whatever happened to your preference for dealing with a man in the purchase of the Highland property?”

Beau frowned. “Too late for that now.” He stopped talking and seemed to be thinking of something, before a smile flitted across his face. “She’s been skittish as a wild thing since I first saw the place—probably because it’s a family home.”

“More’s the pity, if you ask me,” George replied. “If it were me and I weren’t married … well, never mind.” He chuckled. “So, how much time are you going to give her before calling for an answer?”

Olivia had just finished her last call of the day when Melanie wandered in and sat down. “I have news about the Reynolds house.”

“Tell me.”

“Helen wants to list it, and her lawyer told me the divorce is final—as of this Friday, so I’m going over there now to give her staging ideas.  She wants an open house this weekend, maybe every weekend, in hopes it will sell quickly.”

“What price are you recommending?”

Melanie frowned. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The comps I ran don’t support five hundred. I’m not sure it should be much above four hundred.”

“Let me see what you have.” Olivia reached for the papers Melanie held.

After looking them over Olivia keyboarded for several minutes and then turned her desktop monitor so Melanie could see what she had come up with. “My numbers aren’t so different from what you have, except you forgot that bank-owned house around the corner. Even though it’s larger, it was listed for less and sold for twenty below that. Have you talked to Helen about what foreclosures are doing to market values these days?”

Melanie’s blond, shoulder-length hair bounced. “Yes, but she’s afraid of what her ex will say. You heard him. It’s court-ordered that the proceeds are to be split fifty-fifty after all costs, and he still thinks its value is what it was three years ago.”

“Here. Take my numbers and add them to yours. Send a copy to Helen’s attorney with a note to pass them on to the ex-husband’s attorney if she feels it’s appropriate. Remind her we can’t guarantee what a buyer will offer.”

Melanie sighed. “I think Helen’s aware of that, but I don’t know about Dave.”

“Well, he’s no longer on the deed once the divorce is final … That’s right, isn’t it? He did quit-claim it to her in return for half the proceeds at time of sale?”

“Yes. I don’t know how the attorneys got him to agree, but that’s what it reads. Helen showed me a copy.”

“You can only do your best, Melanie. And you don’t have to take this listing. I know she’s a friend of yours, but make sure she understands this is a business deal. You want to be her friend even after the sale. You have to be straight with her regarding values and where it needs to be priced. Then market the hell out of it. It’s in a good neighborhood. It ought to sell.”

“I know. Thanks, Olivia.”

“Anytime.” Why was keeping things on a business level so much easier when she was talking with other agents about their clients? If only this deal with Granddad’s house was that simple.

Olivia reviewed the email messages that had come in that morning. One from Ned. Boring seemed restful now, even desirable. Not scary exciting, like she felt when within ten feet of Mr. Nice Guy James. And it was almost time for lunch. She picked up the phone.

“Hi, Ned. You’re back.”

“I am. Was that you I saw at the Salmon House last night? With that tall, dark-haired guy?”

She blinked. Where was he sitting? What had he seen?
“It was a business meeting.” Her throat tightened and her pulse speeded up. “I didn’t see you there.”

“You didn’t see me because you looked like you were getting ready to punch the guy out. Your face was all red, and you were headed out the door when I spotted you.”

I never laid a hand on him. Even though I should have. Wanted to, actually.
All that wine he’d poured. That was the problem. “I just, well, I …” No way was she going to acknowledge she’d been tipsy to the point of nausea.
And that kiss Beau laid on me later.

“Whatever,” he interrupted. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll pick you up Saturday for dinner. Okay? I just got home from Boston. Great city. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“When on Saturday? I may have clients that day.”

“Work
work work. That’s all you ever do, Livvy. Why don’t you relax a little and take off a weekend every once in a while?”

She frowned. “Please don’t call me that, Ned. Only Granddad calls me that.”
And my special friends.
I don’t think you qualify anymore.
“You know lots of my clients, buyers and sellers, need me on the weekends. That’s the way my business works. Just because—”

“So you’ve said. Eight o’clock. The Sea Shanty. They’ve just introduced a new microbrew. I want to try it out.”

She sighed. “You can do that without me. You know I hate beer.”

“So stick to water, like usual. Do you want dinner or not?”

She looked down at her calendar. “How about if I meet you there?” That way she could leave when she wanted.

“Suit yourself.” He hung up.

Why did I even agree?
The food was greasy and she hated beer. All he’d talk about was Boston and how great it was. She needed to stop seeing him.
She worked through her calls and emails, put the finishing touches on a market analysis for a new client and was about to call her grandfather when he knocked on her door and walked in.

“Olivia! You didn’t call me back. My, don’t you look nice—with your red hair all up on top of your head. Your grandmamma used to wear hers like that, too.”

“Auburn, Granddad.” She hit the save button and rose to sit next to him at the conference table. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. Today has been rather hectic …”

“As it should be with a thriving office like yours. Things do seem to be humming around here. Your father would be proud.” He smiled at her. “So tell me. How did your meeting with Mr. Beauregard go?”

“You mean Mr. James.” Did he mean last night?
Gawd.
I can’t tell him.
Her face flushed. “Which meeting are you referring to?”

“The one about the permits and zoning and things. You did check on that, didn’t you? Mr. James said he had that sort of thing well in hand. Didn’t you call him or meet with him like I suggested?”

“Oh. That. Yes. I went to the county offices and got all the information, as much as they would share. We didn’t quite get around to talking about it last night—”

“Oh. So you did meet with him? Maybe over dinner? That’s always smart—to meet and do business over a relaxing dinner. Where’d you go? Maybe someplace nice—like the Salmon House? Great views, nice quiet booths. Is that where he took you?”

She nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“Well,
good for him. I’ll bet it was lovely there last night—the moon was out and everything. Very romantic, at the Salmon House, don’t you think?” His eyes sparkled at her.

It was?
I never noticed.
“Granddad—” She pursed her lips and peered at him more closely. Why was he staring at her like that, with a little halfsmile? “We weren’t there on a date. It was a business meeting.”

“As long as he fed you. I know how you like to eat.” He smiled at her. “You like him better now? He’s a nice man. Even called me sir. Very respectful.”

Do not mention food and the Salmon House again.
I may start to gag.
“No, Granddad, I don’t.” But Beau James would win an Olympic gold medal for kissing if there were such a prize. “It’s just that—I wasn’t feeling well last night, so we didn’t get around to discussing the permit issue.”

Her grandfather looked disappointed.

“But I went to his office this morning, and met with his partner, Mr. Dunston.”
So I wouldn’t have to imagine what Beau’s mouth—or mine—might do if I came within five feet of him.
“And he went through everything very carefully with me.” She stopped and turned to the file. “See. Here. This is what they had in mind for the two back buildings. And look. Here’s where they would put the new lot lines. This would preserve almost all of the back gardens with the main house, and there would still be parking and lawn space for the other buildings along the side. I was impressed with the minimal yard changes these would require.”

Head bent, Granddad studied the sketches. When he looked up at her, he smiled. “Do you think these are acceptable?”

“It’s not my decision.”
Even if I wish it was.
“You’re the one who has to decide that. I can only advise.”

“What do you
advise—as my realtor? Forget you’re my granddaughter.”

“I could never forget that, Granddad.”

“Pretend. If you hadn’t visited there so much when you were growing up, what would you tell this old man to do?” He placed a hand on hers, turned it over, and finger-traced a heart on her palm before closing her fingers, something he’d done since she was a little girl, what he called his ‘I-love-you heart.’

“I’d say you need to counter their offer, making them pay for all permits and zoning changes and that you reserve a first right of approval once the county says yes,
if
they say yes.” Her eyes filled when she stopped talking.
Please don’t say yes to that. Please please please let me find you someone else to buy your house. You wanted a family. Let me find you a family—where at least one person loves gardening.

As if reading the hesitancy in her eyes, he sat for a long minute and then stood up and looked out the window. When he turned, she rose and put her arms around him.

“Granddad, if you don’t want to sell the house, I understand. I’ll take it off the market tomorrow and tell Mr. James I’ll find him something else, assuming he wants me to represent him. Actually, I’m surprised he doesn’t have his own buyer’s agent.”

“No, I do want to sell. I need to sell. The place is too big for me to manage anymore. And I’m tired of taking care of it. You know that. You’ve told me that
yourself—for the past few months—and you said you didn’t want it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s just too big for me. What would I do with all that space, those four bedrooms, with the big office downstairs and all the other rooms? The carriage house is more my size, and even it’s more than I need. If I were married, it might be different, but your home is perfect for a family, Granddad. I—I—I don’t want you to sell it unless you’re absolutely certain it’s what you want to do, even if it’s to Mr. James.” She reached for a tissue to wipe her eyes.

“Maybe you ought to give me one of those, too,” her grandfather said. 

She handed him the box, and he blew his nose.

“So what do you want to do? You’ve heard my advice.”

“I like what you said.” He sat down again. “I’ll counter his offer. Shall we do it now?”

She looked at the clock. “I have an appointment in half an hour. Let me draw up the counteroffer and bring it to you tomorrow. He said he’d give you until then or the next day. I’ll have Genevieve call him first thing in the morning. That way, if you change your mind, no harm is done and we can still meet his deadline.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. Tomorrow it is. I’ll call you if I change my mind. If you don’t hear from me, write it up and I’ll sign it.”

“Okay.” But she didn’t feel okay. She was certain that little change wouldn’t stop Beau James from signing the contract. “That means we have to start looking for a place for you to live—to move to, if he agrees.” And she would still have to deal with him. A business transaction she didn’t want to take place. Her heart changed places with her stomach and her girl parts kept giving her little hints about what to do with Beau’s boy part. Not that she was going to listen. She had to keep herself focused on business.

“That it does. If he accepts my counter, I’ll start looking, but not until then.”

She saw him out and headed for her car, before turning around and going back into the office. “Almost forgot my papers for the Dodge’s. Genevieve, could you ask Melanie to call me with an update after her open house this weekend? I may not see her tomorrow, and I know she’s anxious about things.”