Forty
I s it really better without her? Arlen questioned.
“Relationships and this line of work don’t mix.”
“You keep saying that.”
“And I’ll keep saying it because it’s true.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Jake muttered while staring at the large ring on Arlen’s finger.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Jake tore his gaze away from the ring and looked over at Scott with a silly grin.
“What are you going to do about that scandal sheet?” Georgia asked through the speaker on Scott’s phone.
“I don’t know.”
“Nothing.” Arlen answered. “You do nothing. Every true item on that list is known, just not confirmed, and the lies are easy enough to check. So, don’t do anything.”
“I can’t do that. The story is going to be that I covered up the scandals.”
“No, the story is going to be you gave your clients the protection they needed to work through personal issues.” Georgia opined.
“That’s not going to be the story.”
“It will be once you give it to them.”
“Can we get back to you and Lauren?” Jake asked. “Melody threatened to cut off my coffee if I don’t help you fix it. Her words. Not mine.”
“There’s nothing to fix. This is what Lauren wants.”
Trent snorted at Scott’s words. “No, it isn’t. And you know it isn’t. I told myself the same when Colleen filed for divorce, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted me to fight for her.”
“Didn’t she get remarried?” Pete asked.
“Yeah. And I’m still alone.”
“Why do you have rhinestones?” Arlen pointed at the sandwich bag on the dresser, inadvertently changing the subject.
“Nothing. No reason.”
“How do you know what a rhinestone is?” Pete gawked at Arlen.
“I have two nieces who live with me. If something isn’t covered in glitter, it’s layered with sequins. And if it’s not layered with sequins, it’s coated with rhinestones. My appreciation for rhinestones and sequins has grown at the same rate as my hate for glitter.” Arlen answered Pete’s question before turning his full attention to Scott. “What do you mean nothing?”
“I misspoke. I meant no reason. Hence correcting myself.”
“Wait! I know these!” Jake picked up the bag and examined the contents. “They still have the pink paint on them. You went back and got them?”
Scott shrugged. “I must have.”
“And you kept them. All these years.”
“I found them in my room when I was cleaning out my father’s house.”
“And you brought them here? You didn’t leave them at the house or throw them away?”
“Get to the point, Jake.”
“You took them when you were a kid because she meant something then and you took them from your dad’s house because she means something now.” Jake pressed the small bag into Scott’s hand. “Don’t screw this up, man.”
Arlen switched his gaze between the two men looking like he wasn’t sure what to ask next or if he even wanted to ask a question that would inevitably lead to more questions.
“That was her?” Trent asked.
Jake nodded. “Yep.”
“But you all took credit.” Pete accused.
“The rhinestones were a bigger hit than the paint. Of course we took credit.”
Scott’s hand tightened around the small plastic bag.
Jake was right.
Lauren meant something.
She always meant something.
She still meant something.
He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
“Fix it.” Jake commanded.
Arlen agreed. “I don’t even know this girl, but you gotta fix it.”
“How? I don’t even know where to start?”
“This is going to require an enormous gift.” Pete nodded sagely from his perch on the chair.
“I know it’s going to take something huge.” Scott stared down at the rhinestones in his hand. Lauren liked them because they sparkled.
What had she said when they were looking at houses?
He had his answer on where to start.
While the others brainstormed ideas, Scott grabbed his phone. “Georgia, I’ll call you back later.”
He scrolled through the list of calls until he found the number he needed.
“Dave, yeah, it’s Scott. I know it’s late, but I need you to do something for me.”
The others in the room stopped talking and stared at him.
“No. It can’t wait ’til morning. I need to have everything ready to go in the morning.”
S cott paced the perimeter of the lobby of Dave’s office. When he walked in ten minutes ago, Dave was talking on the phone and still hadn’t ended the call.
Didn’t he realize Scott didn’t have time to wait around for him to gab away on the phone? When the conversation didn’t slow, Scott stomped across the floor and threw himself into the chair in front of his desk.
Dave looked across at him and raised his eyebrows. “I know Realtors don’t have emergencies, but I swear I’m here to meet with a client. Here. Talk to him.”
Dave held the phone out for Scott. He eyed it for ten seconds before taking it and slowly lifting it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello. Who’s this?” A woman asked.
He recognized her voice but couldn’t place it with a name. “Scott?”
“Scott Brandonson, Scott?”
“Um, yes.” He wasn’t sure where the conversation was going or why he was even on the phone.
“You do realize that 11:30 at night is not normal business hours for a Realtor, right?”
“Yes, but this is an emergency.”
“No. There is nothing Realtor related that qualifies as an emergency.” The woman’s argument faded away. “Wait. Does this have something to do with Lauren Somers?”
How did the woman he assumed was Dave’s wife know about Lauren? “Um…”
“Never mind. It is an emergency. Put Dave back on the phone.”
Scott handed the phone over. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Honey?” Dave mimed someone talking with his hand and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, will do … Love you too.”
And in those last few seconds Scott realized he wanted what Dave had.
Dave hung up the phone. “OK, what couldn’t wait?”
“We need to get the owners of the lake house to sell.”
“What lake house?”
“You know. The one every little girl wants to live in and all our moms would go out of their way to drive past?”
“Oh… that lake house. It’s not on the market.”
“I know. So how much do I need to offer them?”
“That’s…” Dave placed his hands on the desk surface and leaned forward. “Unusual. Cash?”
“How much will it take?” He ignored the question. He just needed to get to how he was going to buy a house not for sale part of the plan as quickly as possible. Without it, nothing else would work and he’d lose Lauren for good. Actions always spoke louder than words. Every athlete was a testament to that little truism.
“How much can you afford?”
“Don’t worry about that.” He leaned back in the chair, feeling more comfortable with the plan.
“Go fifty over the closest comp and we’ll tell them there’s a time limit, and this isn’t an invitation to negotiate.” Dave didn’t blink. The garrulous fellow pretending to be everyone’s best friend was gone and a shrewd businessman, already calculating his commission, sat in his place.
Scott nodded. “How quickly can you make it happen?”
“I won’t be able to do anything until the morning. But the owners have talked about putting it on the market for a while. Connie’s the one who handles all those big lake houses. I’ll catch her in the morning. But if you can do cash and we go enough over market value, they’ll probably agree.” Dave’s fingers flew over the keys of his computer. He paused for a moment as though trying to find a word then continued typing. “I’ll draw up the papers now, have you sign them, then they’ll be ready to go first thing in the morning.”
“How soon until you find out?”
“Knowing Connie? Less than an hour after I talk with her.” Dave got up from his desk and walked over to the printer. When he returned, it was with a stack of papers. “Sign these and if this doesn’t work, I hope you have a plan B ready to go.”
“Short of buying up Main Street and renting out the shops for a dollar, I have don’t anything better than the lake house.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that. Besides, they’ll probably take it.”
“How can you be so sure?” Scott asked, not trusting Dave’s confidence.
“They’ve been wanting to sell, but don’t want it to go to just anyone. I’ll have Connie play up that every little girl in Iron Creek dreams about the house. Lauren is the epitome of every little girl in Iron Creek.”
Scott signed the papers and Dave looked them over. When he was satisfied, he stared at Scott.
He knew that expression well. He wore it whenever he approached a client about a rumor that was about to hit the press. Dave had a question he wanted to ask but didn’t want to offend Scott by asking it and wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.
“What do you want to know, Dave?”
“Does she know your father was the one behind selling off Main Street and Iron Creek?”
How was it that everyone seemed to know what his father was up to, but him?
“Not yet. Although, I’m not sure how considering it seems like everyone else does.”
“Olivia asked me to pull up the deeds for the Main Street transfers and I dug a little deeper. Everybody doesn’t know or even suspect. And I wouldn’t have suspected if my daughter wasn’t taking piano lessons and sharing every new musical term she learned. As far as I know, it’s just Olivia, me, and Jim Somers who are fairly certain your father had his thumb on the scale tipping the balance.”
“What am I going to do? It’s all such a mess.”
“Short of buying up Main Street?”
“Short of that.”
“No idea. But no one’s going to blame you.”
“You aren’t the first one to tell me that.” Scott crossed his arms over his chest. “Jim Somers said the same thing.”
“Jim knows what he’s talking about. My advice is to show her the house first and then tell her. Hopefully she’ll be too distracted to care what your father did.”
“Since the mine was sold, I’d guess most people haven’t had the easiest time of it.”
“True.” Dave glanced around the office and drummed his fingers against the table. “Katie’s gonna start wondering what’s keeping me.”
“You’ll let me know as soon as you hear?” All Scott’s plans hinged on buying the house. Without the house he had nothing.
“You’ll be the first to know.”