Southern Heat Book 1 : The Secret Room

A sense of accomplishment filled Amy Kincade as she walked across the stage to accept her award.
Million dollar producer
.
That had a nice ring to it
, she thought, as she graciously outstretched her hand to accept the award from her broker, Dallas Callahan. Her nerves were out in full-force as her stomach felt like it had a flock of over-caffeinated butterflies in it.

She had joined the Callahan Real Estate Group just a year before, but her rise up the ranks had been quick. Coming from a background of sales people, it was no surprise that Amy, just 25 years old, had already made a name for herself in the real estate industry. Her colleagues at the office were impressed with her skills, and many felt like she was their stiffest competition in her town.

“Congratulations, Amy!” Danielle Allen said as Amy re-joined her office mates at the round table in the luxurious hotel ballroom.

“Thanks, girl. I was so nervous walking across that stage...” Amy said giggling under her breath as she took a sip of her now ice cold coffee.

Danielle and Amy had become great friends over the last year. Danielle, a 33 year old single mom, had struggled to stay in the real estate business because of the economy. Her deadbeat ex-husband had stopped paying child support, and she was having to work double time just to make ends meet. Amy felt bad for her, and she had even sent her a referral once during the year just so she could make some extra money.

“I wonder how much longer this thing is going to last? I have to pick Abby up from school at 3:00,” Danielle lamented as she looked at her watch.

“I think it will be over soon,” Amy said as she scanned the printed program.

“Do you have any appointments today?” Danielle asked Amy.

“Yes. I actually have one at 4:30 north of Atlanta,” Amy said smiling. “This is a great listing opportunity. The house is actually on some land, so I think there is a barn and horses. It's an old antebellum home. You know I love those..... Should be a great one if I can get it,” Amy said.

“You'll get it, girl. I have faith in you. And maybe you can get Rhett Butler as part of your commission,” Danielle said elbowing her with a laugh.

After watching about another hour of the awards ceremony, it was finally over and the women made their way to the parking deck. Danielle drove an older minivan with a booster seat in the second row for her beloved daughter, Abby. Danielle adored Abby, and she would do anything for her. Amy found it sad that she couldn't find a real man to love her and her precious 8 year old daughter.

“I'm not sure how much longer I can hang on, Amy,” Danielle said looking down as they walked to their cars.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, financially. Real estate has been slow for me, and Craig never pays a dime anymore. It would cost me too much to take him back to court,” Danielle said.

“What a scumbag. He makes me sick. I am so sorry you have to go through this, Dani,” Amy said putting her arm around Danielle's shoulders as they walked.

“I may have to take a second job. I guess we'll see how the next few weeks go,” Danielle said as she reached out to unlock her door. She gave Amy a quick hug and the two women parted.

As Amy drove through the thick Atlanta traffic, she thought about her own life. She had been raised in a great middle class family. She was happy with her real estate career and the fact that she had her own apartment, but she was not at all happy with her love life. Boring. That's what you'd call it.

She had dated several men over the last couple of years since graduating from college. First there was Brian. They dated for 6 months until he realized that he might be gay. Not a nice feeling for Amy as she worried that she had turned him that way. Then there was Paul. He was an aspiring musician and actor. Actually, he was lazy and sat at her apartment most of the time making messes that she would clean up after her previous job as a secretary.

Then, there was Dillon. She really thought he was “the one”. He was dapper and British. His accent sent her heart spiraling. The romance was great at first until Dillon decided that online porn and sneaking to strip clubs was in his list of interests. Amy quickly decided that she wasn't willing to settle for that.

But, now she was left wondering why she attracted such losers. She had decided to spend a full year not dating and getting to know herself. She wanted to build her business and get in touch with what she wanted in a man without the distraction of actually dating one. She was 5 months into her plan, and so far so good. She was lonely a lot of the time, and her little pink vibrator had become a close, personal friend. She longed for the touch of a good man who would adore her, but she was starting to believe he didn't exist.

Some people just never find the right one
, she told herself as she drove into her apartment complex.

Amy walked up the stairs to her two bedroom apartment, opened the door and slapped her keys onto the kitchen bar. She got a two bedroom apartment because she originally planned to have her friend, Tina, move in but Tina ended up getting transferred to Oregon with her job. This didn't do anything for Amy's loneliness.

The apartment was often a place of refuge after a long day, but also a place of silence that deafened her ears when she was feeling blue.

Amy slipped out of her blue pant suit and walked to her bedroom wearing her camisole and panties. The hot Georgia sun had transformed her into a sweaty mess, so she opted not to wear her typical pantsuit to her afternoon appointment. After all, it was going to be on land which meant that she needed to walk around outside. Looking like a sweaty mess would certainly not help her get the listing.

Instead, she slipped on a short red sundress and her brown leather cowboy boots. She swept her long, blond hair into a ponytail and touched up her makeup. Grabbing her matching purse and her briefcase, Amy spritzed on some jasmine scented body spray and headed for the door.

The afternoon sun was particularly sweltering that day, so Amy opted to drive with the top up and the air conditioning on. Her convertible was a splurge purchase after she got her first really big commission check. It was red and sassy, just like her. She blasted Adele on the radio trying to sing along, but realizing that she was completely tone deaf.

Amy didn't care. She was comfortable with herself these days. Being alone does that to a person. Still, she wished that she could meet a nice man and settle down. Her mother certainly wanted her to settle down with someone and give her some grandkids soon.

After her father passed away three years ago, Amy's mom seemed to rely on her even more. Linda, Amy's mom, had had a career as a marketing and sales manager for years, but she quit after her husband died. She spent a year in a dark, depressed place but seemed to be better now. Amy wanted to give her grandchildren, but she knew that she had to find the right man first.

“Amy, find a man with money. That way you can always be sure you are taken care of,” her mom suggested to her a few weeks ago during a phone call.

“Mom, I am not looking for money. I make my own money,” Amy said rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone.

“Hon, you're going to want to stay home with my grand babies one day. Find a man who makes money. You'll thank me later,” she said.

“I'm looking for love. Commitment. Not the size of his bank account, Mother,” Amy sighed putting her head in her hand out of frustration as she held the phone out from her ear.

She knew why her mother was saying this. Amy's dad was a wonderful person, but his work habits left a lot to be desired in Linda's eyes. He was also very entrepreneurial, starting new business after new business. In the end, Linda was always the most stable breadwinner in the family.

As Amy drove, she was lost in thought until her cell phone rang bringing her out of her haze.

“Hello?” Amy answered as she hit the button on her hands free mic.

“Amy?”

“Yes....”

“This is Camille Tarton, your 4:30 appointment....” said the gentile, yet very upper class, woman on the phone.

“Oh, yes, Ms. Tarton. I am on my way to your place as we speak,” Amy said smiling.

“Oh, darn it! I was trying to catch you, dear. Our plans today have been altered, sweetie. Emile and I cannot meet with you today....” she said apologetically.

“Okay...” Amy was a bit aggravated but tried to hide it in her tone.

“I have an idea! Our stable manager can meet with you. He knows just as much about the house as we do. Yes, that will work. That way you won't waste your time driving so far for nothing,” Camille said.

“We can always reschedule, Ms. Tarton. I really need to speak with you and your husband...” Amy tried to get her to reschedule because she knew that selling them on working with her would be immensely harder if she had to do it over the phone later.

“I won't take no for an answer, Amy! I want you to see our place. You were referred by our dearest friends, so I trust in your opinion on how we should price it,” she said.

“Okay. I will be happy to meet with your stable manager. Will this person know I am coming?” Amy asked worried that she was meeting with some country bumpkin or ax murderer in the middle of the woods.

“I will tell Jack that you are coming. He's a very nice fellow. Kind of rough around the edges, but, well.... he is a stable boy...” she said giggling in a holier than thou tone.

“Um... well... thanks for letting me come. I will look around, walk the land a bit and call you tomorrow to discuss. How does 2:00 sound?” Amy said trying to juggle her phone while sitting in traffic.

“Yes, dear, that will be fine. I will speak to you then,” she said as she hung up the phone. Amy quickly typed the appointment into her smart phone and put her eyes back on the road. Luckily, traffic was heavy so she wasn't endangering anyone with her talking and typing.

A few minutes later, Amy was on a deserted road looking for the mailbox number for her appointment. Craning her head, she finally saw the red brick mailbox with black wrought iron numbers “1458”. She turned right onto the black tar driveway that seemed to stretch for miles.

The driveway was lined with beautiful Bradford Pear trees in full bloom. It was like stepping into another world away from the blazing hot sun and urban landscape. Beyond the trees, she could see a beautiful antebellum style white home with a large rocking chair front porch. Out front was a stunning, round drive with a large statue and waterfall in the center. It seemed so out of place in front of the old, restored Southern home. She wasn't surprised given the pretentiousness of Camille Tarton.

Amy parked her convertible at the bottom of the front steps, grabbed her briefcase and headed for the door. She walked up the granite stairs leading to an enormously tall wooden door. She felt like she was about to enter a castle as she used the black wrought iron knocker to alert Jack that she was there. She waited for a few moments before noticing an electronic intercom panel to the right of the door. She pressed the button and waited for an answer, but nothing happened.