CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jack
“I’ll take it,” I said, almost as soon as we had walked through the door.
The real estate agent, Tiffani Grace, turned and stared at me. “Jack, no offense, but we’ve been over this already. I’m not going to let you buy a house you haven’t even toured.”
Exasperated, I put my hands on my hips and gave the beautiful, curvy blonde in front of me my most intimidating stare.
It didn’t work. In fact, I think she wanted to laugh.
She cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me, her big brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “I used to babysit you, Jack Lancaster.”
Fuck yeah, she had. She was who I’d jacked off to most when I was a pre-teen. My parents probably shouldn’t have hired the teenage pageant queen who’d lived next door to us when I was growing up to babysit me and my siblings. My brothers and I were borderline obsessed with her for years.
Now she was one of Salazar Real Estate’s premier realtors. She handled as many clients as Javier Salazar, the unofficial real estate king of West Bay. Residential real estate that is. His older brother Enzo and his dad Carlos were the kings of commercial real estate in the area.
Anyway, she was still hot as hell. It was a testament to my feelings about Daisy that I was able to even talk to Tiffani without staring at anything but her face.
She had one of those perfect bodies, like Christina Hendricks on Mad Men.
And she was the actual woman I’d fantasized about as a young teenager.
But now I needed her to let me just buy a fucking house.
“Why do you want to buy in the Estates at South, anyway? I thought you liked having your bachelor pad at the penthouse in Salazar Towers.” She leaned over the kitchen island and whispered, “Rumor has it that you have a separate condo for your, ah, friends to enjoy.” I swallowed hard and did my best not to notice her cleavage as she leaned over.
My brothers and I were sure she knew exactly what she did to us. Still.
It didn’t matter that she was at least seven or eight years older than me. She was one of those women who seemed to grow more beautiful with age. And she’d been a knockout all the way back when she was in high school.
I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m looking for more… room, I guess.”
She frowned, confused. “The penthouse isn’t room enough for you? Are you getting married? Do you have a secret family I don’t know about?”
It really sucked that she still hung out with us socially. She was at almost every event we ever went to, and she was just as comfortable talking with me and my siblings as she was my parents. She fell in between the generations, so she was sort of friends with all of us.
“No. I just want a house, okay?”
She stood up straight and narrowed her eyes at me.
“Jack Lancaster, you called me in on the one Saturday I’ve had off in I don’t know how long, said it was a real estate emergency, and now you won’t really tell me what the hell is going on?
I can’t find you the perfect house if you won’t even tell me what it is you want. ”
Maybe she was right. Should I put thought into this? What if I ended up living here with Daisy one day? I rolled my lips inward. What did I want in a house besides it being within a street or two of Daisy’s? I had no idea. My city penthouse was perfect. It was exactly what I needed.
But if I was living with someone? Or married? With kids? I didn’t know. Maybe I did need to figure out some things I would want in a huge, three-or-four-story house.
No. No, I didn’t have time for all of that. “Let me see the view from the back deck.”
She gave me one more searching look, then shrugged.
“Fine. If you won’t tell me, I won’t tell you anything, either.
You’ll never know if there was an unsolved double homicide here a few years ago, and that’s why the house has sat empty.
” With that she opened the French doors and stepped out onto the wide porch that ran the length of the house.
I frowned and looked around the house nervously for a second before following her. My God. Had there been a murder or two here? Was it haunted? Not that I really believed in ghosts… but…
“Wait,” I practically shouted, making Tiffani jump and look back over her shoulder to stare at me. I lowered my voice. “Was there a double homicide here?”
She turned and gave me a challenging look. “I’ll tell you, but first you have to answer a few of my questions.”
And that’s how I ended up spending a couple of hours looking over the house I was ready to buy in the first thirty seconds after I’d seen how close it was to where Daisy lived.
Every time I thought I had the upper hand and was ready to sign papers, Tiffani had said something like, ‘I wonder if the last resident, a little old lady, died in the main bedroom and still haunts it to this day’.
To find out the answer I’d have to look at some other part of the house with Tiffani or talk about my likes and dislikes in a house.
Really, all I’d wanted to say was “It’s two streets over from the house of the girl I’m obsessed with. Now give me the goddamn paperwork.” I managed to restrain myself.
But, I’d bought the house. Paid cash and signed the papers. I could move in that day if I wanted to. Money and fame made things happen.
I glanced at Tiffani before walking out. “Do you know anyone who could just, you know, pick out the furniture and things for me?”
“Like a decorator? I mean, yeah, obviously I do.” She cocked her head and looked at me. “Do you want me to just handle all of that for you?”
I almost hugged her with relief. “Yes! That would be perfect.”
“Any requests?” She pulled out an iPad to take notes.
“Um… the gym needs to be pretty extensive. I like to work out. Top of the line treadmill and a TV near it are a must.”
“Why don’t you just join Saffron?”
I gave her a blank look.
“You know—it’s part of Nico Salazar’s gentleman’s club.”
Everywhere I turned I was struck in the face with joining those damn clubs. “I like to work out alone. I don’t want to inhale other people’s sweat.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Ew. Well now I don’t, either.”
We were quiet for a moment, potentially thinking of disgusting amounts of sweat in the air, before she broke the silence. “Okay, then. Nothing else?”
“Um… no white couches. Or really light colored upholstered furniture.”
She blinked at me.
“Tomato soup is my favorite, so…” I trailed off, thinking it needed no explanation.
“Gotcha,” she put in her notes, clearly thinking I was strange.
That was fine. She definitely wouldn’t be the first person to think that.
“You’re all set. I’m going to hang out here for a while and meet the decorator.”
“They’re coming today?”
“When I say I get things done quickly, I mean it,” she smiled at me. “Of course you’ll be paying extra for that.”
I waved her off. I didn’t care about the money.
“Oh, what about the furniture from your penthouse? Don’t you want to move it here?”
“I’m not selling the penthouse.”
“You’re not?”
I shook my head.
“So… you’re going to have a penthouse in Salazar Towers, a condo in Salazar Heights, and a mansion in the Estates at South. All for a young, single guy?”
I squinted my eyes thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t think I’m going to need that condo anymore.”
Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “Oh, really? Are you dating someone I don’t know about? Your parents haven’t mentioned anyone.”
“Not yet,” I said, standing with my hands in my jean pockets. “But I think I will be soon.”
***
It didn’t take me long to decide I wasn’t cut out for stalking. I was impatient, grumpy, and I didn’t blend into the background very well.
But I was doing my best. Daisy hadn’t given me much choice, though. After the whole debacle I liked to call ‘date gate,’ I hadn’t been able to see her. She no longer delivered my lunches. So this was the only way I was getting to see her.
My stalking had kicked up several notches.
It was a typical day, after I was all moved in to my new home, and I was following her at a distance in my Camry. I had to go pretty damn slowly to stay behind her bike and at least somewhat out of view. It wasn’t easy.
And I knew she’d seen the Camry before, but I thought it was less noticeable than my Aston Martin. I was pretty sure I knew where she was going, but I was doing a shit job of getting any details. I cringed thinking back to my last attempt.
I’d approached a guy I’d seen her talking to after one of her classes.
“So, she’s pretty, huh?” I had said, ‘casually’ leaning against a tree outside the business building on West Bay University’s campus.
“What?” The guy was sitting on a blanket, guitar in hand, and playing songs terribly in an obvious and douchey way to pick up girls. “Who are you talking about?”
I nodded my head in Daisy’s direction. She was wearing shorts so short her ass cheeks were practically hanging out, a tight Dinardo’s Deli tank top, and pink cowboy boots. She looked like a music video come to life.
“She’s alright,” the guy lied, slobber practically hanging from his mouth.
Then she flipped her long, thick hair over, pulled it all into a high ponytail, and stood up straight, making her large breasts push against the confines of her shirt.
Both of our mouths were hanging open. “Alright?”
He sighed. “Yeah, man, what do you want me to say? That I’ve been gunning for her since freshman year even though I know I don’t stand a shot with her?”
Well, that was refreshingly honest. I chose to ignore most of what he’d said. “What do you know about her?”
“Not much. She’s gorgeous, obviously, but she’s nice.
” He stared at her. “Girls like her? They’re not usually nice, but she really is.
She remembers my name because we had a project together four years ago.
She always asks about my mom, too, who had cancer during that time.
She’s just sweet.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“I know she went through a bad breakup with a guy who didn’t deserve her,” he continued.