Chapter 11. Cynical Is Careful, Spelled Differently
Cynical Is Careful, Spelled Differently
I arrived bright and early next Saturday morning at the address Rob had given me.
The house he was flipping with Alec was in an older neighborhood on the outskirts of Port Benedict, a single-story home with original red bricks, newly replaced roof tiles, and a freshly landscaped front yard.
Rob said demands for houses in the area were starting to rise, and a lot of young families were moving in because the suburb checked all the important boxes: local schools, a small hospital, grocery stores, close to the freeways.
I parked just as he was tossing a rolled-up old carpet into a dumpster on the driveway. Grabbing the bunch of calla lilies from my passenger seat, I got out of my car and opened the trunk, hauling my camera bag and a box full of staging props.
“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you for another hour,” he said. “Let me help you with those.”
“Thanks.” I also grabbed a paper bag while he picked up two other boxes, then followed him into the house. “Nicole arrived earlier at the store so I could leave.”
The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air as I walked in.
Everything looked brand-new, and the open plan of the house made the place look inviting and spacious.
I’d made a Pinterest board when Rob first sent me pictures of the house, and proposed a clean, minimalist vibe.
Once he and Alec agreed on the look, I sourced furniture from a rental company and thrifted some items from the antique store next to Selma’s bookshop.
The furniture was delivered yesterday, so there were dining chairs and barstools and floor lamps being placed haphazardly around the house.
There was a beige leather sofa and a farmhouse-style coffee table pushed to one side of the living room.
A long wooden dining table was in the middle of the dining area, with mirrors in Bubble Wrap and art prints stacked on top.
I waved at Alec, who was perched on top of a ladder installing LED light bulbs above the kitchen island. “Hey, Mackenzie.”
“Hey, Kim.” He lifted a hand in greeting. “Thanks for helping us out.”
“No problem.” I placed the boxes on the floor. “The place looks great. When is your first showing?”
“Early next week,” Rob said. “Three showings a week, and an auction in four weeks, unless we get an offer earlier.”
“I told you, we will,” Alec said. “Back yourself up, Carmichael. Have faith in us. Your dad might have been in this industry longer, but he isn’t always right.”
I shot Rob a quick glance to see his reaction, but he only made a noncommittal sound.
We began to rearrange the furniture, pushing the sofa and the coffee table to the middle of the living room and setting the chairs around the dining table.
I hung the art prints and the mirrors on the walls, arranged some pillows on the sofa, and placed a decorative wooden tray and a potted plant on the coffee table.
As Rob and Alec put up the blinds, I filled the vase I’d bought from the antique store with water, then placed it on top of the dining table. Opa had given me ten stems of calla lilies, which should bloom nicely just in time for the first showing.
“These were freshly cut this morning,” I said. “They should last around a week or two, with fresh water every three days. Let me know if you need more and I can bring some over.”
“Are those from Thomas’s garden?” Rob asked.
I nodded, while Alec shot him a curious look. “Thomas?”
“Kim’s grandfather.”
“I know who he is,” Alec replied. “Wonderful man. He’s had me and Ellie over for dinner a few times. My question is, how do you know him and that those flowers might have been from his garden?”
“Because I’ve also had dinner at his house.”
“Have you?” Alec directed his curious gaze at me, chuckling when I rolled my eyes at him. “Interesting.”
We spent the entire day staging the rest of the house.
By the time we were finished, I was exhausted, but the house looked amazing.
All three bedrooms had been accessorized with cream-colored bedding, fluffy pillows, and throw blankets; there were potted plants in every room; and crisp white towels and jasmine-scented candles were featured in the two bathrooms. We had a black-and-white-striped ceramic serving bowl and some fresh lemons for the kitchen bench, and another wooden tray with a hand-painted porcelain teapot and its matching teacups next to it.
Ellie had lent us some of her cookbooks for display in the kitchen, and I’d brought some of my own books for the bookshelf.
Then I took out my camera and captured photos of the house after Rob had steam-cleaned the floor and made sure everything was pristine and spotless.
“I’ll download the photos and send them over when I get home.”
“Great.” Rob had his hands in his pockets, watching me as I packed up my camera. Alec had gone to meet Ellie for dinner, so it was just the two of us left in the house. “Are you going back to the store? Or your grandfather’s house?”
“Nicole is closing tonight, and my grandfather is with a couple of friends and their families tonight. I’ll see him tomorrow.”
“If you’re free tonight, maybe we can go over the dossier for the second wedding.” He shifted on his feet. “I know it’s still two weeks away, but I feel like we should prepare early.”
It was the thought of spending more time with him that had me nodding my head. “I’d love that.”
We grabbed a quick dinner from Ocha Izakaya, my favorite Japanese restaurant, then drove back to the apartment I shared with Jenna, with Rob following in his truck. I unlocked the front door, switched on the lights, and led him inside.
“Shoes off, please.” I pointed at a low shoe rack in the hallway, underneath a sign announcing the same thing. “Spare slippers are on the bottom rack. Sorry, it’s an Asian thing. Both Jenna and I grew up with this habit and it’s ingrained in every fiber of our being.”
“Don’t apologize.” Rob took off his work boots and placed them neatly on the rack, briefly considered the choices of available slippers, then chose a pair of fluffy purple ones.
“My mom used to do the same thing. My siblings and I often came home with dirt and mud on our shoes. She got so fed up with cleaning the floor, she always made us all take off our shoes as soon as we walked into the house.”
“Very wise mom.”
“Very busy, too, with the six of us.”
“Your mother must be a superwoman.” I headed to the kitchen and tossed my bag and keys onto the counter. “What can I get you? I have coffee, tea, or water. Maybe a bottle or two of kombucha in the fridge.”
“Water’s fine.” Rob placed his keys on the kitchen counter and climbed on a stool, his eyes curiously assessing the apartment. “Yeah. My mom’s the best.”
“Do they live here? What about your siblings?”
“Some of them. My parents do.” He nodded his thanks at the glass of water I handed him. “Should we get started?”
Okay, so someone didn’t feel like talking about his family today. Hint taken.
He set his laptop on the kitchen counter, then navigated to a presentation that looked similar to the first one. I took the seat next to him, my arm lightly brushing his as I scooted closer to get a better look on the screen.
“When do you have the time to do all this? Don’t you have a business to run?”
“This didn’t take long. A guy from the first wedding will also be at this second one, so I’ve only given you two new options. And Alec and I sold our shares in Mackenzie Constructions to Goodwin Property Group, so I’ve got more time for other things.”
“I seem to be hearing that name a lot recently.”
Rob looked up from his screen. “What do you mean?”
“You know how Goodwin owns Port Benedict Plaza?” When he nodded, I went on, “All the shop owners in our neighborhood received a letter from them. They’re offering to buy our buildings because they want to demolish the old shops in our precinct and build a swanky new tower in its place.”
He stilled. “They do?”
“Yep.” I turned to look at him. “You have networks and connections with the local property industry, right? Have you heard anything about this?”
“Don’t think I have.” He slowly shook his head. “You should speak to Alec. He knows the owner better than I do.”
“Ellie’s reaching out to her. Why did you sell your shares to them?”
“Alec and I are more of a silent partner in the company anyway, and we needed the capital to finance our house flip, so it made sense.” He studied me. “Are you going to sell?”
“I’m not,” I said. “But there are other businesses that said things have been slow since the Plaza revamp last year, and they’re thinking of saying yes. So I want to bring more traffic to the strip, and hopefully convince them not to sell.”
“Can I help? Two heads are always better than one.”
“I don’t pay you enough to be my matchmaker and my business consultant.”
“You haven’t paid me a single cent. And I grew up with sisters, I know how to multitask. Is the yarn store affected? Have you noticed a drop in business?”
“Not really. Maybe a little, but not significant enough to worry.”
“Still, a bit of publicity would go a long way. Are you doing any promotions?”
“Mostly social media. But I suck at posting regular content.” I thought for a bit.
“My grandmother used to rave about this lady named Melinda Paulson, a Port Benedict local who’s considered a legend in the arts and crafts community.
She became super famous several years ago, thanks to her knitted dresses being worn in a hit romance movie.
We stock her knitting books at the store, and they always sell out.
Maybe I can reach out to her and see if she’d be willing to do an event in the store. ”