Open House (Kingston Bros.) (6 page)

"I suppose, but he really didn't seem the schmoozy type?"

"All part of the act, I'm sure. If he was too smooth, you'd probably run the other way, right?"

"Maybe." It made a weird kind of sense. She had been right all along. A stud-muffin like him really couldn't be interested in her. She was just a mark. Some poor lonely woman who could be charmed into giving over her life savings with just a flirtatious smile and some intense eye contact. All that chemistry was just in her head. Or he'd somehow fabricated it. Maybe he sprayed pheromones all over himself to get women all hot and bothered? Just to sell a house?

Oh my God, Lacey thought to herself. That's exactly what he did. She had practically rubbed against him like a cat in heat when she’d been trying to unlock that door yesterday. So humiliating. She had given serious thought to throwing herself at that man. Even after he'd hurt her feelings yesterday, she had still been toying with the idea of trying to get hold of him somehow. Obviously, whatever part of her brain was in control of character assessment must be on the fritz. Damn pheromones were clouding her judgment.

How could she be so wrong about a person? He had seemed so wonderful. And yet all evidence suggested he was either a phony or a player, or possibly both. Well, he really deserved some credit for his acting skills. But she wasn't having anything more to do with him. And this time she meant it. She was no one's fool.

*****

Subject: Still looking for a scaled down version?

From: Serena Garrison

To: [email protected]>

Hi Lacey,

Nice of your mom to provide your email address. She's a wily one, isn't she?

I was thinking about what you said last week. You were looking for a scaled down version of the row-houses, right? I think I may have something to show you. Interested?

Lacey read the short email twice before sitting back from her work computer and crossing her arms. She had expected to hear from Serena much sooner. It had been a week since the Open House and she'd thought perhaps her mother had provided the wrong email address. Usually, real estate agents were quick to act on new contacts, but Serena had taken her time. Did this mean that she might really have something suitable in mind for Lacey? Intriguing.

Lacey knew she should just stay away from He Who Shall Not Be Named in any capacity, but that didn't mean she couldn't have contact with Serena, did it? Obviously, they were colleagues, but real estate agents and builders probably had their own little community. Most likely, Serena knew all the builders in town. Lucky girl. That didn't mean that Lacey was obligated to do business with Him if she allowed Serena to show her some properties, did it?

But being around Serena would definitely remind her of Satan's Handyman. As much as she'd tried not to think about him, he kept popping up in her thoughts. It didn't help that her usual running route took her right past the row-houses where she'd humiliated herself. It was petty, but the last time she'd ran by, she'd let her dog, Charlie, do his business in the yard. It had seemed appropriate at the time. She'd changed her route since then, but the thoughts of him just kept coming.

Mostly, she thought about his eyes, how intensely green they were, without a hint of blue or hazel. Should a man be allowed to have such gorgeous eyes? They made him impossible to forget. And those arms. He'd rolled up his shirtsleeves at one point during the tour, and she remembered being practically mesmerized by the sight of those sinewy-looking forearms, so masculine, and sprinkled with just the right amount of dark hair. Not so much that he looked like a gorilla, but some. As a man should have. And his back. The wide V-shape of his shoulders, tapering down to his tight waist and neat buttocks. Just incredible. The guy was a looker, a regular dreamboat just as her mother had said. It would be odd if she wasn't thinking about him.

It wasn't just his body she kept dwelling on, though it did feature prominently in her recent fantasies. She also thought about the way he'd acted with her mother. So polite and patient, despite Diana grilling him about the row-house's features. He'd been genuine and gentle with her. If he was the kind of man Liz had suggested, would he have put so much effort into charming her mother? Was it possible that he somehow knew that the surest way to charm her was to win over her mother? If so, he was truly diabolical.

Bottom line. He's married, so she must stop thinking about him. But one thought kept circling around in her brain. Maybe they were estranged? Him and his wife hadn't looked very happy in that picture. Even if they were in the process of separating, it would be a recent break up and she didn't want to be the rebound girl. Rebound girls were always temporary. And she was not into being his transitional sex toy. Though, with a man like that, it would certainly be better than nothing. In fact, temporary could be downright hot. And she could really use some nasty, dirty, no-strings sex, for once.

But he was married, happily or not didn't matter. He was strictly off limits. And if Liz was right and he wooed women to get them to buy houses, then he was kind of smarmy too. Not exactly her dream guy.

The question is, what if looking at real estate with Serena brought her into contact with him? Could she deal with that? Nothing had actually happened with the sexy builder. She was just a tad obsessed with him. It's not like they had an actual relationship. Just a harmless flirtation that she had built up in her head to mean more. If she did run into him, then she would just be coolly professional. She could do that. She dealt with difficult people at work all the time with a smile on her face. One oily builder should be nothing to her. She was a mature woman. And it really did sound like Serena had something interesting to show her.

Lord knows, she did need to find a place soon. Her pudgy nudist neighbor had found himself a rather vocal girlfriend, and the sound of those two rutting like wildebeests had become unavoidable. She was glad they'd found each other, and they really seemed to be having fun, but listening to them enjoying each other while she was alone was unbearable. Yup, time to vacate. Hopefully whoever moved into her apartment would enjoy the grunts and groans coming through the walls more than she did. Or maybe she could tell the landlord to find a nice little old lady with a hearing aid that could be turned down when the wildebeest loving became too enthusiastic.

If Serena had a solution to her real estate dilemma then it was in Lacey's best interest to see what she had in mind. What could it hurt exactly? She wouldn't have to be in contact with any of the Kingston Brothers. And she would not bring them up. This was purely business.

RE:Still looking for a scaled down version?

From: [email protected]

To: Serena Garrison

Hi Serena,

Yes, my mom definitely missed her calling as an international woman of mystery. I didn't even see her sign the guestbook. But I'm glad she gave you my email address if you really do have a scaled down version of that fabulous row-house in mind. Just understand that my budget is limited. I don't want to take up a lot of your time if whatever you want to show me is in the same price range. My budget is about 20% less than that.

So, if that works for the property you want to show me, then lets go for it. I'm halfway through a six day rotation at the Health Unit, so I have this Thursday and Friday off. Do either of those work for you? Let me know. I'm looking forward to seeing what you have up your sleeve.

RE: Re: Still looking for a scaled down version?

From: Serena Garrison

To: [email protected]>

Well, it's more of an idea at this point rather than an actual property yet, but I do have something to show you. I don't think you'll be disappointed. Let's get together on Thursday at The Daily Grind on 3rd Ave around 1pm, and we'll go from there. You game?

RE: Re: Re: Still looking for a scaled down version?

From: [email protected]

To: Serena Garrison

Hmmm...you definitely have my attention. Consider me game. See you at 1pm on Thursday. And thanks for thinking of me, Serena.

Curiouser and curiouser, Lacey thought to herself as she closed down her work computer for the night. Turning off her office light, she wondered what Serena was up to. The real estate diva had something to show her that wasn't actually a property for sale? Very mysterious. Lacey hoped it wasn't a blueprint or a floor plan for a future development. She was visual and needed to see something concrete before she would commit to anything. Hopefully, this little exercise would not be a huge waste of their time. But she was excited to see what Serena had in mind for her. If she was really lucky, her housing problem would be resolved in just three short days. If only her romantic problems could be solved so easily.

Subject: Stopping by on Thursday

From: Serena Garrison

To: [email protected]

Since you're completely uncivilized and never answer emails, I won't expect a response. Just letting you know that your mom wanted me to check on your progress at The Fortress of Solitude this week, so I'll be stopping by sometime on Thursday afternoon. The forecast is for rain, so don't try and use the Elm Street project as an excuse. Roofing in the rain is a trip to the emergency room waiting to happen. So be at the FoS or I will snoop.

By the way, give your mom a call, okay? She's worried about you. And it'll save me making any future trips out to the middle of ass-crack nowhere to check on you.

See you Thursday. And don't wear the Oscar the Grouch T-shirt, okay? It's tacky for a grown-ass man to wear a cartoon character on their chest.

There, the stage is set, Serena thought, rubbing her palms together as she sent her final email off to Jack. She would spend a few hours with Lacey on Thursday, and if the pretty nurse was a good match for Jack, then she would bring her out to his cottage and reveal her brilliant plan to both of them. If not, then she would take Lacey to see a totally inappropriate townhouse on the wrong side of town, and that would be the end of her match-making. But if this worked out, then not only would her cousin Live Happily Ever After with Lacey, Serena would also have a potentially lucrative new business venture to distract her from her own single status. It seemed like a win-win situation to her. If Jack and Lacey would just cooperate.

Chapter Four

"Ummm... Serena. Where are we going exactly?" Lacey asked nervously from the passenger seat of the Mercedes. She gripped the armrests tightly as the little car neatly veered around a squirrel who had the poor judgment to venture out on the country road they were currently traveling on.

They had been driving for close to forty minutes, and as far as Lacey could tell, Serena was not familiar with the term speed "limit." In truth, Lacey felt like a little like she was trapped in the Delorean with Dr. Brown from "Back to the Future," and they were about to take off. That's how fast they were going.

"We're almost there. See that turnoff on the left? That's our destination," Serena said, steering deftly into a hairpin curve.

"But why are we going there? You know I want to buy something in town, right? And I don't think there are any townhouse developments being built way out here." She squeezed her eyes shut as yet another squirrel came close to meeting his squirrel-maker.

Serena just smiled secretively and said, "Wait and see. I don't want to spoil the surprise."

Lacey and Serena had met that afternoon as planned. But instead of immediately heading out to see Serena's mystery property they had sat for hours, just chatting and drinking coffee. And sampling some of the coffeehouse's famous red velvet cupcakes.

Lacey had found herself talking about her job, her dog, her mom, her hobbies, even her ex-boyfriend, Boring Barry. She felt like she'd been grilled by the world's nicest interrogator. She was actually a little embarrassed by how much she had revealed about herself, but Serena had seemed so interested. She had just kept asking questions, and her honest, non-judgmental responses had compelled Lacey to really open up and talk about herself for a change. It was a tad disquieting how much she'd volunteered. Clearly, this real estate agent should be working for Homeland Security or Scotland Yard or someplace like that. She certainly knew how to draw information out of a person.

Now they were in the middle of nowhere, driving up a long winding driveway towards a huge, colonial-style house that looked like it belonged in the Old South rather than the Pacific Northwest. Surrounded by trees and heavily landscaped, the house at the end of the long drive featured a four car garage, a wraparound porch and a set of stately black double doors, so large that a giant could walk through them with ease.

Lacey gaped in disbelief. "Serena. If that 'scaled down' mansion is what you had in mind for me, then it must need an exorcism. Or maybe it has an indian burial ground, or possibly a nuclear power plant in the back yard. Because there is no way that place is in my price range. And I'm pretty sure we're going to get arrested for trespassing if we try to go in there. Or worse, this place looks like the owners might employ an army of rabid Rottweilers to guard the family jewels."