Chapter 12 #2
“I picked up a lot during my construction years. I’m not fluent, but I can get by.”
Only two other cars were there. As Keaton helped her from the truck, he commented, “Either very late lunch goers—or early for happy hour people.”
They went inside the familiar restaurant, and the hostess seated them.
“What’s good here?” he asked, looking over the menu.
“I’ve never had a bad meal here. The enchiladas are fabulous. The fajitas are even better. It’s possible that their guacamole just might rival yours,” she teased.
“Want to split some fajitas?” he asked.
She set aside her menu. “As long as we get some queso to go along with them.”
They placed their order and nibbled on chips and salsa until the queso arrived. It was even better than she remembered, and Keaton raved about it.
“What is your next series of paintings going to be about?” she asked.
“I haven’t a clue,” he admitted. “Usually, I take a few weeks off after finishing a group. Just to cleanse my mind. Recharge my batteries. Stir the well of creativity a bit. This reno is coming at the perfect time. I enjoy working with my hands. Letting my mind drift. A theme will come to me, whatever is next for me to paint.”
“I saw how much some of that art cost. If you’re pulling even half of the prices I spotted, I’ll feel super-guilty taking you away from your craft and your earning potential.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be painting anyway.
I would be loafing. Trying to hit on the next series.
” He grinned. “Probably getting in a lot of fishing. This way, I’m keeping my construction skills at my fingertips.
I’d rather do something productive while I’m waiting for the muse to strike me again. ”
Their fajitas arrived, a sizzling mixture of steak and chicken, accompanied by grilled onions and peppers, shredded cheese, guacamole, sour cream, pico de gallo, and piping hot flour tortillas.
After a few bites, Keaton told her, “These might be the best fajitas I’ve ever eaten. You’re also right about their guac. It’s outstanding.”
They talked some about Carson’s basketball team, and he promised to accompany Layne to a game. They also discussed a few details about the funeral she would hold for her parents, and she was glad she had Keaton as a sounding board.
He paid for their meal, and they headed to Liza’s office, which was only a few minutes away from the restaurant.
“It’s nice to see you again, Layne,” the realtor said upon them entering the office.
“Thanks for taking the time to meet with us,” she replied. “This is Keaton Maxwell, a good friend of mine.”
Putting the friend label on Keaton would suffice for now, but Layne knew he was much more to her than that.
“He’s in charge of renovating the inn I recently inherited, and he’s also an artist.”
Liza’s eyes went wide. “You’re that Keaton Maxwell? Oh, I’ve seen your art hanging on walls of homes I’ve sold in Highland Park. I’m an admirer of your work.”
“Thank you,” he said humbly.
“Let’s have a seat,” Liza suggested. “I’m familiar with your neighborhood and recently sold a house a few blocks from where you live.
I’ve pulled comps for the area, as well as the records from when you bought the house.
It’s darling, Layne. It has great curb appeal.
I think we’ll make a killing on it. I can’t wait to see the inside. ”
For the next half-hour, they went over the particulars of her house, with Liza typing into her laptop specifics about the property.
Then they studied the comps, which showed the sales of houses which had sold during the last few months in her neighborhood.
Liza focused on three in particular, since they had similar square footage to hers.
One was right down the street from her. Another two blocks over.
The third had just gone on the market and was only three doors down from her.
“If you have time now, we can go over and look at the inside,” Liza said. “Once I see it, I’ll have a better idea about how to price it. That is, if you’re ready to commit to me.”
“Definitely,” Layne said. “Let me sign whatever I need to make that official. I’ll be leaving Dallas, so I’ll need to clear out the house. Do you think I should leave the furniture in it for now, or would it do better if it were empty?”
“It depends upon how things look. If the furniture makes the rooms look overcrowded, I’ll have you clear it out. I have a person I use to stage houses. We can work with her on dressing up a few rooms if necessary.”
Layne stood. “Then let’s go see it and get your opinion.”
She and Keaton returned to his truck, with Liza following in her sedan. When they turned on her street, a wave of nostalgia rippled through her. This had been the first house she had bought, and she was so proud of it and the neighborhood.
“It’ll be the second one on the end. On the right,” she told him.
They reached the house, and Keaton wheeled into the driveway. Layne went numb inside. Splashed across the garage in angry red paint was one word in capital letters ten feet tall.
BITCH