Chapter 2 Natalie
Natalie
Natalie Scott checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror one last time before climbing out of her station wagon.
As she moved through the employee parking area behind the Gold Coast Realty offices, she wished she had a more stylish car.
Like Beth Pulaski’s Jag.
But a sporty little two-seater wouldn’t work for Natalie. Not with three kids and two dogs. And where would she put groceries
for a family of five? Or plants? Or suitcases?
Sure, Beth could put her Jag’s top down and race around the curves of Little Neck Road on her way to the butcher shop or the
deli, but she had to borrow Natalie’s car to go to the garden center.
Maybe I’ll buy myself a convertible. I’ll sell so many houses that Jimmy can’t complain about me spending money.
An image of her husband’s face flashed in Natalie’s mind, and she set her jaw in defiance.
He doesn’t think I can handle a job, the kids, and the house, but I’ll show him. I’ll show everyone.
She entered a sunflower-yellow, shingle-style building through the rear entrance and walked straight to the kitchen.
She put her lunch bag in the fridge, which was in desperate need of a good cleaning.
As she scanned the countertops of the room that had once been the heart of a family home until the house was gutted and turned into an office space, she saw dirty coffee cups and a spray of spilled sugar.
Someone had left the milk out next to the coffee maker.
A banana peel hung like a used condom from the trash can’s rim.
Not my job, Natalie thought, suppressing the urge to scrub everything until it gleamed. But, because she couldn’t help herself, she
put the milk back in the fridge. Then she stepped out into the hall, where her boss was leaning on the water cooler, wearing
his oily car salesman grin.
“Here you are! Our baby agent!” he boomed. “Come into my lair, my dear.”
Natalie followed him into the only private office in the building.
Sid Bosworth dropped into the leather swivel chair behind his massive desk. Smoothing his yellow tie with one hand, he gestured
at a steel-and-leather guest chair with the other.
When Natalie sat down, the leather cushion groaned. It groaned again when she crossed her legs.
Sid studied her shiny patent leather heels. Then his gaze slithered slowly up her body. Finally, he looked her in the eye.
“How ya feeling this morning, Nat? Ready to take on the world?”
The corners of Natalie’s mouth dipped. She’d already told Sid that she never went by Nat.
He’s your boss. You need this job.
“Yes, I’m—” she started, but he talked right over her.
“I see you’re wearing your ‘Gold Standard’ scarf. Good, good, good. You and Gina are really gonna liven up the place. Two
lovely ladies. Very lovely.” He waited for her to smile in appreciation before laying a hand, pale and square as a slice of Wonder Bread, on
top of a file folder. “I’ve got your first listing right here.”
Natalie felt a stirring of excitement. This was what she’d been waiting for.
That folder represented her future. She’d worked hard for this chance, and she was going to work even harder now that she
had it. She was going to shine.
She couldn’t wait to study the listing, meet the current owners, and plan what she’d say to potential buyers and their agents.
She pictured the For Sale sign at the curb, and she saw herself tying yellow balloons to the sign before welcoming eager buyers
to the open house. She’d pick up cookies from Hubie’s Bakery and arrange them in a spiral on that pretty china platter her
mother brought back from England. She’d put yellow roses in a white vase and position the cookies and vase just so in every
kitchen.
The yellow roses will be my trademark.
She’d lead prospective buyers through a clean and shining house. Every surface would gleam. Every pillow would be plumped.
The buyers would picture themselves eating dinner in the spotless kitchen and hosting parties in the spacious living room.
They’d imagine the sewing machine in the den. New cars and a workbench in the garage. They’d envision their future children
in the cozy bedrooms. On the swing set in the backyard.
For once, Jimmy would be in charge of the kids while Natalie worked. He might even have to take them to church or make their
lunch while Natalie prepped the sale property or showed it to clients. He wouldn’t like it, she knew, but how many times had
she taken them to birthday parties, movies, Sunday school, scout meetings, soccer practice, dance class, and swim team events?
How many times had she been both mother and father while Jimmy was away on business? How many times had she been alone with
the kids while he drank beer in Frankfurt or ate beef Wellington in London?
Natalie wanted to start this new phase of her life right now. This very second. She was dying to study her first listing, but the folder was still trapped under Sid’s meaty hand.
“I’m not gonna yank your chain, Nat. This one will be a challenge for a baby agent. But don’t worry your pretty little head
about it, because we’re a team. A win for you is a win for all of us. If you need help, don’t be afraid to ask. My door is
always open. Okay?”
“Absolutely.”
Sid placed a rectangular box on top of the folder. “And here’s a little gift from me to you. You’re a Golden Girl now, Nat,
and you’ve got the cards to prove it.”
His desk phone lit up. Glancing at the number, he said, “Sorry, sweetheart, I’ve gotta take this. It’s about the Deerfield
property.” He reached for the phone with one hand and pushed the folder toward her with the other. “Shut the door on your
way out. That’s a good girl.”
Natalie backed out of the office and gently closed the door.
Clenching the box and folder in her hands, she walked down the hall into the main room, where ten desks were arranged in a
cluster, each separated by a chest-high partition.
Natalie shared a cubicle wall with Gina, a short, dark-haired woman with olive skin and a body as curvy as a mountain road.
She looked like the pinup girls painted on the noses of World War II bombers.
“The scarf looks good on you,” Gina said with a smile. She wore bright red lipstick, which made her teeth look fish-belly
white. Natalie wanted to ask if she brushed with baking soda, but they’d only been colleagues for two weeks, and after reading
a dozen articles on workplace behavior, Natalie had learned it was best to keep personal questions to a minimum until her
job was secure.
There would be no job security if Natalie failed to sell a house. She was on a ninety-day trial, and though she hadn’t worked in an office for fifteen years, she was a quick study. And she was determined. Nothing was going to stop her from having a career. Nothing.
Gina was Gold Coast’s top-selling female agent because she’d been the only female agent. Now there were two women in the office,
and Natalie had no intention of sharing the spotlight. Gina might be younger and fresher than Natalie, but she hadn’t given
birth to three children. She hadn’t managed a household of five people, trained two dogs, run a garden club, served as PTA
president, or organized the carpool schedule, yacht club fundraisers, and scout troop field trips. When it came to juggling
tasks, she couldn’t possibly hold a candle to Natalie.
Natalie eyed Gina’s glossy black hair with envy. Throwing a smile her way, she said, “The scarf looks even better on you.
I wish I could get my hair to curl like that.”
“I just got it permed. I’m going to a new place in Huntington. It costs an arm and a leg, but like L’Oréal says, I’m worth
it.” Gina jerked her chin, indicating the folder. “Have you peeked yet?”
Natalie wanted to examine her first listing without an audience, but the way Gina leaned forward made it clear she wasn’t
going to focus on her own work until her curiosity was satisfied.
Sighing inwardly, Natalie opened the folder.
Inside was a grainy black-and-white photo of a ranch house she instantly recognized.
Idle Day Drive was the next street over from where Natalie lived on Tidewater Terrace.
Everyone in the neighborhood knew the couple on Idle Day because they owned three ancient cocker spaniels that barked around the clock.
The McCreedys had no kids. They didn’t play bridge, attend block parties, or buy a single box of Girl Scout cookies.
They turned out their porch light every Halloween and never put up Christmas decorations.
They spent most of their time walking their dogs and watching TV in the front room.
They never planted flowers or trimmed their bushes.
The lantern at the end of their walk was filled with the corpses of dead bugs. Their lawn was riddled with fungus.
Gina whistled. “It needs work, but at least it’s in the good part of town. If it’s totally nasty inside, you can still sell
the school district.”
“Sure,” Natalie murmured absently.
“I see you got your business cards. What name did Sid put on them?”
Natalie blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Sid gives everyone nicknames. Except for me. He couldn’t think of a way to shorten Gina, so my cards have the name my parents
gave me.” She tapped the name tag pinned to her blouse, making her left breast jiggle like jam with too little pectin.
Natalie opened the box Sid had given her and pulled out a business card. It was the crisp white of a new undershirt. The right
corner featured a graphic of a yellow house. In the center, under Gold Coast Realty and We Have the Golden Touch, was Natalie’s name, business phone number, and office address.
Only it wasn’t Natalie’s name.
“Guess you’re Nat now. Good luck with that listing, Agent Nat,” said Gina, quirking a pencil-line brow.
Natalie was seized by an urge to slap Gina. She could almost hear the satisfying smack and watch her handprint surface like