Chapter 1
JUNE
You know what to do. Beep, the answering machine blares loudly.
I sigh in frustration. I check the phone number on the website to see that it’s correct. Would it have killed them to include a professional greeting?
This better be worth it.
“Good afternoon,” I recite calmly into the phone. “I’m calling on behalf of Juniper Communications and PR.”
Pausing, I make sure to check the address for the property I found.
Multitasking isn’t going well today. It’d be so much better if someone could answer the phone so I could get all the information I need beforehand.
And on top of all that, there’s a long list of tasks I have to do before I begin the next chapter of my life.
Where did this year go?
I feel like November is over and it only started last week. If I blink, it’s going to be Thanksgiving and I’m not quite ready yet for what comes next. I scribble the address of the property I just found and make a few notes about the restaurants, grocery stores, and amenities nearby.
Maybe I should search for a gym where I can sign up for a one-month membership. Then, I remember I was leaving a message.
“Right, so we came across one of your properties and would like more details. Could you please call us at your earliest convenience? Thank you and have a wonderful day.”
I hang up the phone and take another look at the house online, clicking through each picture.
This is perfect for what I planned. I can’t imagine anything more fitting than this as I read through the amenities again.
Two-bedroom house with a spacious kitchen and a cozy family room with a built-in fireplace.
Only a five-minute walk from shops and restaurants.
What better place to take a hiatus while I decompress, relax, and work on my new life?
Now if only they'd call me back so I can lease this sucker.
My cell phone rings a couple of minutes later. I check the caller ID which reads The Art of Real-State. Good, at least they’re fast at getting back.
“Juniper Communications, how can I help you?”
“Did you just call requesting information about one of our properties?” a husky male voice asks.
And fuck if it isn’t sexy. It’s powerful and commanding. Not that I like to be ordered around but I could listen to it all day. It’s a voice to sink in as it wraps you up. I move my mouse around the screen, bringing back the house in question.
“Yes, that was me.”
“May I suggest next time you don’t leave a long pause and maybe focus on giving a phone number, a name, and the property you’re calling about.”
Well, aren’t we grouchy today? The hot as fuck voice just lost all my interest.
“Caller ID exists and, obviously, you were able to call back,” I explain and continue before he can rant about something else. “Anyway, I’m talking about the house located on Detroit Street. In fact, I filled out the application, but I have a few questions before we can move forward.”
“The property is no longer available, thank you for your inquiry,” he says and hangs up the phone.
I frown. What the hell?
My shoulders slump because the cute house in the middle of the city isn’t available. He didn’t even let me ask if they had any other properties around the area. What kind of business does this company run?
I could let well enough be but what if the new occupants won’t be moving in until January? Maybe it is available for the month of December. I just need it for thirty-one days.
“Yo,” he answers.
What is he, seventeen? Maybe he’s someone’s son and he’s helping his mom. Nope, that voice belongs to someone older, maybe hotter.
Those hormones I’m taking are making me horny. Calm down, deep breaths. He might look like Tommy Lee Jones and not Jake Gyllenhaal.
“Can I speak with a customer service representative or a manager?” Someone capable?
“How can I help you?” he asks and by his snippy tone, it’s obvious that he’s run out of patience.
“Look, I just need a house for the month of December. Do you have anything available around the same area?”
“Maybe?” he answers. “But not for just a month.”
Okay, so this guy might be some intern and needs a little training. That’s fine, I can work with him.
“Would you mind telling me what you have available? My client might be interested if the property and the price are right.”
I hear a chuckle and some movement. “What’s your email address, sweetheart?”
Promptly, I answer with the general email address, spelling every letter to ensure he doesn’t miss it.
“Is that z as zebra or c as car?”
I tighten the hold of my phone because seriously how can the c of communications be z as zebra?
“It’s c as clown,” I reply at his stupid question.
“Got it, lady,” he says. “I’ll send you a link with the property. You can check it out and send us an email if you have any further questions.”
Without saying another word, the fucking asshole hangs up on me.
I laugh because if he wants to be difficult, I’ll show him difficult.
I open the email and click on the link. The house is breathtakingly beautiful.
The entrance looks like a tower of a castle.
I read the description, Estate in coveted Old Cherry Hills.
Well, I definitely don’t want an estate. This is huge for little old me.
Eight bedrooms, ten bathrooms, recently remodeled home. Main level gourmet chef’s kitchen.
Where else could they have the kitchen? The brands of the appliances are fancy.
There’s a pool and a guesthouse. Why would I want any of that?
Luxurious master suite features his and her closets, a sitting area, and a pristine white marble bathroom with a stand-alone tub and steam shower.
Oversized bedrooms with a walk-in closet.
Well, yeah, it’s gorgeous and the exterior grounds are marvelous, what with the pool, the hot tub … why do I want a wine cellar when I won’t be able to drink? I tilt my head imagining driving around the circular driveway. Custom built-in bookcases.
This is stunning. If I were to move in there for the rest of my life and have a family … I sigh because there’s so much to do before I can get to the point of having a house full of children.
I read his email one more time but the only thing he sent is the link. There’s no information about the monthly rent or if it’s available just for one month. So, I call again and there’s no answer. Instead of leaving a message I hang up and call again, and again, and again until he answers.
“Did your parents ever teach you how voicemails work?” he growls. “You leave a detailed message, number, name, and message after the beep.”
“You don’t say,” I reply sarcastically. “And then what happens?”
“You wait until the person you’re trying to reach calls you back. Dialing the fucking phone twenty times is inconsiderate. I have work to do,” he says rudely.
“May I speak with your supervisor?”
“I’m the only person available at the moment, how can I help you, Ms. Juniper Communications? And make it fast because unlike you, I. Am. Busy.”
“Are you sure you don’t have anything smaller?
” I ask calmly. “I don’t care if it’s in a different area.
This house is too big for what we need. It could fit my entire family and we’re talking about eight adults and two children.
My client is going alone. A mansion is overkill.
But I’ll tell you what, if this is our only option, we’re willing to negotiate. ”
“Excuse me?” he barks the question and if it wasn’t rude, I’d admit it makes me hot.
“Actually, what’s the price to rent it for only one month?”
“Look, lady, this is the only property that’s currently available in the Denver metropolitan area.”
“That doesn’t answer my other questions. The price and the length of the lease. I just need it for one month.”
“Let me be clear, we’re not Airbnb.” He pauses.
“There, I just emailed you the link for their website because it seems that you’re looking for a property that you can lease as a hotel.
Now, if you like our property in Viking Lane, I recommend you read our company’s policies and terms. They are on our website.
It’s a standard twelve-month lease. We require a two-month deposit and first month’s rent.
And, in case you’re wondering, we don’t make any exceptions. Fill out the application online.”
He hangs up on me—again.
The stupid voicemail picks up again and I’m done with the guy, so I just leave a message.
Maybe tomorrow the manager or someone more competent will answer the phone.
“We have a very important client who only wants this property for the month of December. Is there a way you can make an exception? We’d be happy to do something for you in return.
We are a public relations company, after all.
Wouldn’t you prefer to have free positive publicity?
You could be leasing this place by the end of January at a higher price just because we used you.
We’d like to move forward only if you’d be more amenable to our terms.”
If this doesn’t work, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Look for a different doctor here in San Francisco? Nope, this clinic in Denver is one of the best in the nation and they’re cheaper. My insurance doesn’t cover the procedures.
I call the clinic to confirm my appointment for next week.
If I’m lucky, maybe I can see the house and rent it.
I only have a month to get everything settled.
One month off and if all goes well with the buyer, I’m selling Juniper Communications and …
now my phone’s ringing. It’s the asshole or hopefully someone competent.
“Hello?”
“Look, lady, you seem like a smart person. So, let’s be clear.
I don’t bend shit unless it’s in the name of art, not rules.
If you’re interested, I like to bend beautiful, willing women on a flat surface so I can fuck them hard.
I can show you anytime you want. If your client is as important as you presume, I’m sure they could pay the full year without batting an eyelash. ”
“You should be fired,” I complain. “In fact, I’ll make sure to leave a poor review on your website. What’s your name?”
“Have a good day, lady.”
The fucking nerve, seriously, who does he think he is?