Chapter 18
A nita rose from her desk and strolled through the workroom to the window at the front of her shop.
“You’re going to wear a path in the floor,” her workroom supervisor teased.
As promised, the executor of Charlotte’s estate had responded to the request Tim had made on her behalf. A van had appeared the day after she, Gordon, and Tim toured the premises. Lettering on the side of the vehicle proclaimed: Junk Removal Pros — We Handle All Your Refuse Removal Needs.
Anita had seen the van pull up first thing in the morning.
She’d watched from her shop window as a crew of four workers entered Candy Alley.
A dumpster had arrived at the curb by midmorning.
She’d grabbed a cup of coffee and stood at the window as the workers deposited trashcan after trashcan of refuse into it.
The supervisor joined her at the window.
“I never would’ve guessed there was so much junk in that place,” she said.
“Right?” Anita replied. “I was shocked when I went through the premises the other day. I’m glad to see they got started on this so quickly.”
“Are they taking everything out of the space?” her supervisor asked.
“I hope not,” Anita replied. “We asked that they leave the old display cases and the cash register. Those are vintage items that would be a great addition to my museum.”
“What happens after all the junk is gone?”
“Exterminators will arrive—the place is infested with mice or rats. Probably both.”
“Yuck!”
“When that’s done, they’ve promised to bring in a commercial cleaning crew to remove the layers of dust, grime, and rodent scat.”
The supervisor placed her hand gently on Anita’s elbow. “You really want this space, don’t you?”
Anita nodded. “I’m afraid so. As bad as it is, I see its potential.”
The supervisor took one last look over her shoulder at the active scene across the square.
“Our seamstresses know how badly you want this,” she said. “We’re rooting for you.”
Anita turned to face the workroom. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate your support.”
The six women gathered around the worktables nodded in acknowledgement.
“I’d better get back to it,” the supervisor said.
“Me too,” Anita sighed. “Standing in front of this window isn’t hurrying things along over there.
I can’t seem to help myself. I’m like a moth to a flame.
” She returned to her desk and busied herself with the week’s payroll.
When she was done, she refilled her coffee cup and resumed her surveillance.
Anita manned her post behind the shop window for the next several days. She pulled her cardigan close around her and stepped out the door to take a better look at the action across the square.
The pest control company had cleared the property of rodents, and the crew from Ace Janitorial Services had begun work the previous morning.
A team of six had entered the building with buckets, mops, a shop vac, stacks of microfiber cloths, and a trolley of cleaning supplies.
She had seen them leave the building at 11:47 a.m. for lunch and return promptly at 12:45 p.m. They’d departed for the day at 5:00 and returned at 8:30 that morning.
Although she’d kept a close eye on Candy Alley, there had been nothing for her to see.
Until now.
The crew was stowing the shop vac, the trolley of cleaning products, and green vinyl trash bags filled with dirty microfiber cloths into the back of their van.
Anita clasped her arms over her chest, hugging herself. Her breath crystallized into tiny droplets as she exhaled. I’ll catch my death, she told herself, but I want to be sure of what I’m seeing.
The cleaning crew finished packing up, locked the door of Candy Alley, climbed into their van, and drove away.
Anita swung around and hurried inside Archer’s Bridal. She crossed the workroom in five quick strides. Her phone lay on her desk, and she lunged for it.
She held it in her hand, debating whether to text Tim or call him.
He’d assured her she could tour the premises again as soon as the work the executor had promised had been completed.
Cleaning was the last step. She practically vibrated with excitement at the thought of getting inside the newly sanitized space.
Anita was tapping out a text to Tim when her phone rang with a call from him.
She abandoned her message and swiped to answer.
“Hello, Tim,” she said. “I was just texting you.”
“I bet I know what was on your mind,” Tim replied, his tone teasing.
“Try me,” Anita said.
“You were going to tell me the cleaning crew is done, weren’t you?”
“They just left!” Anita said. “How did you know?”
“They called the attorney who represents the executor, as they were preparing to leave,” Tim said. “Have you been monitoring the progress at Candy Alley these past few days?”
“You know me too well,” Anita said. “I have a bird’s-eye view of the place from my shop. Other than processing this week’s payroll, I’ve done nothing else but watch the comings and goings of the various service companies.”
“I’d have done the same if I were in your position,” Tim said. “So, you know the place is ready for another look?”
“I sure do,” Anita said.
“That’s why I’m calling. When would you like to tour the property again?”
“I’m readyright now!I’ll put my coat on and be there in under a minute.”
Tim chuckled. “I need a bit more time than that. Actually, I was going to propose we meet there later this afternoon. I talked to Sam yesterday, and he confirmed that he and Jeff can meet us there any day this week after three. Would you like me to ask them to stop by to help assess the property?”
“I’d love nothing more,” Anita said. “If I still feel the way I felt after seeing it the first time, I’d like to make an offer as soon as possible.”
“They’ve given me their asking price,” Tim said, and disclosed it to her.
“Oof,” she groaned. “That’s at the top end of my budget.”
“They’re throwing a number out there,” Tim said.
“It’s too high. I analyzed the comps. The price they’re asking is for a property in pristine, move-in-ready condition.
As we’ve seen, Candy Alley will require major refurbishment.
That’s why we need Sam and Jeff to get in there as soon as possible.
We’ll use their estimates for the required work, with a generous cushion for cost overruns, to come up with our offer. ”
“That makes sense to me,” Anita said.
“I’ll call Sam now,” Tim said, “and we’ll meet you there.”
“Oh, I can’t wait!” Anita said, her voice as giddy as if the captain of the football team had asked her to the senior prom.
“One last thing,” Tim said. “I don’t want to rain on your parade. I know how excited you are about this property and your museum. But I want to caution you—rein in your enthusiasm and look at this building with clear eyes. The sellers may not accept a reasonable offer.”
“Why are you saying this?” she asked softly.
“Because I want you to buy therightproperty for your museum,” he said. “That means the right locationatthe right price. Emotions often play a large role in choosing real estate, but it’s never wise—especially when acquiring a business location—to let your heart overrule your head.”
Anita took a deep breath. “I don’t want to make a bad financial decision,” she said. “I’ll try to control myself. And I give you permission to tell me if you think I’m making a mistake.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I represent you—and that’s my job.”
“Understood,” Anita replied. “See you at three.”
“Despite what I just said,” Tim added, “I believe the sellers will be reasonable. I want tomake this deal happen for you.”