Bidding War Break-In

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  Belle chewed on that for a moment, but she finally agreed. “Most of the residents in the mixed use development stick to themselves, at least when it comes to matters that concern the county. So far anyway. Maybe Carter just set off an alarm or something?”

  I nodded. “Probably.”

  Bonnie grunted. “I don’t know about you, but all this Hatfield and McCoy stuff makes me hungry.”

  “Me, too,” Henrietta said.

  “I might could use a ham and pimento cheese sandwich. Haven’t had one in days,” Billy Ray said.

  And just like that, my reserves flew the coop. “Well, if our enemies saw that, they know all it’ll take to get us alone is a ham and pimento sandwich.”

  Belle laughed. “To the office?”

  “Sounds great.”

  We said our goodbyes to the few people there that didn’t believe we were the devil’s spawn, Dylan and Matthew, and then headed back to our safe haven, Bramblett County Realty’s office.

  * * *

  I pictured the sandwich the entire three minute walk toward the office, and because the pull of the ham and pimento sandwich was strong, we ended up at Millie’s Café, too. Though I’d never admit it out loud, relief washed over me when Millie said we’d just missed the Four Musketeers. She’s taken to calling Bonnie, Henrietta, Billy Ray and Old Man Goodson that recently, and it had stuck.

  “They called in their order and poor old Billy Ray limped in, paid the bill, and left. Said they had to prepare for battle, but I told them they were crazy old coots and should mind their own business.”

  Belle giggled. “Oh boy.”

  “Great. Let’s hope they don’t do anything to wind up behind bars.”

  Millie giggled. “Now wouldn’t that be a sight for sore eyes?”

  “I just got Bonnie’s bond back from her last arrest. If I keep tapping into my emergency fund for her, I won’t have an emergency fund left.”

  Dylan and Matthew showed up behind us, but I hadn’t even noticed. Apparently, Belle hadn’t either, because when Dylan laughed, we both jumped.

  “Good Lord, Dylan Roberts, you about sent me running to the ladies’ room,” Belle said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  I gripped his arm and he bent down to brush a kiss over my lips. “Ignore her. Old lady problems.”

  “Something I should know?” Matthew asked. He patted Belle on the back.

  Millie took their order, allowed Dylan to cover all of us on his tab, and headed into the kitchen.

  “Y’all could have offered a little support when the wolves attacked,” Belle said. I checked her eyes for flames, but thankfully, there weren’t any. The boys were safe.

  “We didn’t need to. You two did fine on your own,” Matthew said.

  “And it’s not our place to get involved in that kind of thing, unless of course someone is breaking the law,” Dylan added.

  “Defending your fiancée isn’t your place?” I asked.

  The side of his mouth twitched. “I love it when you call yourself that.”

  “Well, don’t get your hopes up. I might not be sticking around if you’re not going to come to my rescue.”

  “You didn’t need rescuing.”

  Millie brought us out six ham and pimento cheese sandwiches on whole wheat. Dylan and Matthew balked at the bread choice, but she didn’t care. “I told you, I won’t be servin’ you that enriched white stuff no more. You don’t want my homemade breads, then you get whole wheat.”

  Belle giggled. “You ain’t gonna win that argument boys.”

  “She’s right,” I said.

  We thanked both her and Dylan for the sandwiches, and the four of us walked to our office.

  “We’ll keep an eye on things. If they get out of hand, we’ve got your backs,” Matthew said.

  “But from the looks of things, I don’t think we need to worry, at least not yet,” Dylan said.

  “If you say so,” Belle said.

  They took their sandwiches to go, and Belle and I sat at our large conference table and got to work.

  She listened to the voicemails and scribbled notes onto the top sheet of a pad of paper. “There are twelve new messages regarding Carter’s townhome. This is amazing.”

  “It’s unbelievable. Hand me the list. I’ll make sure they’re all invited to the private showing.”

  “You still want to do it?”

  I repositioned myself on my chair. “Of course. I’m not going to let those people dictate how I run my business.”

  “How we run our business?”

  “Yes, that, too.” I smiled. “You know what I mean. And this isn’t really about you for them, though you did kind of throw yourself into the middle of it all.”

  “Defending my best friend.”

  I blew her a kiss. “And I appreciate that very much, sweetie pie. You’re just the sweet in my sweet tea.” I thought I might regurgitate my lunch from saying that.

  She grimaced. “You’ll never make it as one of the Women of Society.”

  “Why not?”

  “There aren’t enough hours in the day to list all the reasons.”

  “Ouch.”

  “And those reasons are exactly why I love you.”

  “Well, thank you, Belle. I love you too, sweetie pie.”

  “Stop that.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I opened an email and started sending out the invites. “I will, sweetie pie.”

  She flicked her pencil at me, and it hit me on the shoulder, then bounced off and rolled under the table. “You can keep it.”

  I wiggled my pen. “I’ve got my own writing instrument, thank you—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  I laughed.

  She pressed the palm of her hand to her chest. “They made my orange juice give me heart burn.”

  “No, your orange juice gave you heart burn. They were just there to add a little acid to the mix.”

  “Either way, they’re horrible. Thinking they have a right to vet the possible buyers. As if that’ll ever happen.”

  “It won’t.”

  “We know that, but they don’t.”

  I pushed my laptop aside, rested my hands on the table, and made eye contact with Belle. “Here’s the thing. They don’t have any legal rights to interfere, and they know that. They can bully me all they want, but it won’t matter. I’m going to hold the private open house, Carter’s sister Ryann will pick a buyer, I’ll close the deal, and watch them all eat crow when the scholarships are handed out because of it. And that’s the end of that.” I pulled my laptop back in front of me and got back to business setting up the invite list for the event.

  * * *

  The details were all set for Saturday morning from eleven o’clock until one o’clock. I’d spent Friday evening putting together the new listing brochure, and I created tags to hang throughout the unit highlighting the finer points. Finer points being things like the specialty made concrete counters which were all the rage, and the barn doors separating the master bath from the bedroom. Those were just a few of the upgrades in the unit that were key points to any agent.

  Ryann had already been in town and cleaned out what the family wanted from the home, and she’d left several items to be included in the sale or to be offered separately once the townhome closed. I was grateful for what remained because it gave the listing a lived in feel. Furnished properties always sold better than empty ones.

  I’d planned an evening alone, and Dylan even offered to take Bo so I could focus on some much needed wedding planning brainstorming, but I spent so little time with my guy as it was, I wanted him as my snuggle partner.

  And we did just that on the couch, his clunky, chunk of a head resting on my thigh, his mouth open and wet against my skin. I traced the white line from his nose to between his eyes with the tip of my forefinger. Such a patient dog, he didn’t even budge. Probably because he was half asleep, but I liked to think it was because he was patient, and mostly well trained.r />
  “So Bo, we’re supposed to be planning the big event.” I stared at my Pinterest wedding board. I’d started the thing way back when, before Dylan and I reunited, and had added to it on a regular basis ever since. Until he’d actually proposed a few months ago, at least. Then, the whole idea of marriage became real, and I’d had an internal melt down.

  I just hadn’t shared that with anyone, not even Belle.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get married, or that I didn’t want to marry Dylan. Of course I did. He was the love of my life, the only love in my life ever, really, and I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else. It had nothing to do with that. It was the task of planning the wedding that overwhelmed me. If my parents weren’t still around, I’d hop on a plane to someplace like Vegas or the Jersey Shore and get married by an Elvis impersonator. That sounded so much easier than picking out flowers and deciding between chicken or steak.

  Dylan was in the middle of his reelection campaign, Belle and I were knee deep in our cabin remodel, and our business wasn’t showing signs of slowing down any time soon. I’d neglected things that mattered in my life, things like exercising, and I’d even dropped out of two community events, the Celebration Dance Bramblett County held every year, and another fundraiser. I’d had so much on my plate, even a heavy duty Chinet paper plate would have collapsed from the weight.

  Okay, so there might have been a teeny tiny bit of angst about the whole marriage thing, and though Belle would understand, she’d also tell me to get over it, and I didn’t need that. I would get over it, eventually. I just needed time to process it all.

  I just didn’t want to jinx what Dylan and I shared. In Bramblett County any woman not married by twenty-five was labeled a spinster, and since I’d passed twenty-five a few years back, I was already on that list, so why did that need to change? I figured we had a good thing, spending most evenings together, every spare minute actually, meeting early in the mornings to walk Bo and have a coffee at Millie’s. Why did it have to change?

  And where would we live?

  It was those details that kept me up at night. Things like, whose couch would we use? Mine was cute and comfy. Sitting on Dylan’s couch was like sitting on a rock after a hard day of climbing. Plus, the material was fake leather, and I stuck to it if I had any skin to pleather contact. Though the problems sounded trivial, and they were, I knew that, I couldn’t shake them. My life was going to change, and I was afraid.

  Just like everyone in Bramblett was afraid of the county changing. Ugh, I hated when lessons smacked me on the head like that.

  It wasn’t just the change though, it was the nosiness of small town life, or everyone pressuring me with questions. When’s the big day? Are your parents coming back for the big event? Did you get a dress yet, or are you wearing your momma’s? So. Many. Questions.

  Frankly, I didn’t think it was anyone’s business, but mostly because I hadn’t a clue what to do. All the ideas I’d pinned on Pinterest no longer felt right. I pointed to a barn wedding photo I’d pinned. “What do you think, Bo? Does that look pretty? Would you like walking down the aisle in something like that?”

  He sighed and his jowls vibrated on my thigh.

  “Yeah, I’m not feeling it either.”

  An email notification popped up on the corner of my screen. When I read the subject line, I clicked to view the mail. The sender was Keep Bramblett Ours, and the subject line read, Cancel the Open House or Else.

  There was nothing in the body of the email, but I figured that was the point. I didn’t recognize the address, but I suspected that was part of the plan, and I wrote it off to one of the many people upset about the open house. Just in case though, I kept the mail in my inbox. I’d learned it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Back staring at Pinterest, my eyelids grew heavy, and I caught myself struggling to keep them open. I closed my laptop, hoping not to disturb Bo, who’d already snored his way into a deep, sound slumber. When he didn’t move, snorted out another snore, and his heart shaped nose twitched, I knew he was in the midst of a wonderful dream frolicking with his four-legged friends.

  I leaned back, shut my eyes and wished for that same sweet slumber.

  The next morning came in a flash. I couldn’t even remember moving from the couch to my bed, but I obviously had since I was lying in it, and I had to push my almost seventy-pound drooling dog off of my legs to get up. I needed to get moving. The final touches of an open house were one thing, but when that listing was in the throes of a bidding war, it was a whole different ball game.

  I’d assigned Belle with chocolate chip cookie duty. “All right, I’ve got all the ingredients, and I’m bringing the equipment just in case. Guys don’t typically have baking supplies, and I’m not sure what Ryann left.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll stop at Millie’s and get the scones and coffee boxes, probably just two. I grabbed the cups and stuff from the office last night, so we’re good.”

  “Did you print out the new listing brochure with the info?”

  “Of course, and I’ll pick it up at the office supply store on my way.” I finished buttoning my charcoal gray blazer, the one that hit me square at the hips that I wore for important business meetings and big listings, and did a quick outfit check in the mirror. “Not too shabby. I clean up well.”

  “You wearing the cute gray blazer?”

  “Of course.”

  “With the ankle length black pants?”

  “Maybe.”

  “How’d I guess?”

  “Because you know it’s my power suit, and you know me, just like I know you.”

  “What am I wearing?”

  “That sounds a little creepy when you ask it like that.”

  “Hush.”

  I laughed. “Let’s see. You have two go-to power suits of choice, but this is a bigger than normal deal. It’s my big deal, though, since it’s officially my listing, so you’re definitely not wearing your skirt. I’m going with the gray plaid blazer with the matching pants.”

  “Dang, you’re good.”

  “Of course, I am. Now, I have to run. I’ll see you at the townhome in less than an hour?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Dylan met me at Millie’s. “Bo will be in good hands today, so you go work your magic, and don’t worry. I’ll have a deputy patrolling the lot for the development to make sure no one gives you any grief.”

  I leaned my head onto his shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “I figured.” He tilted my chin toward his face and smiled at me. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so. And you’ve got a big day today too, don’t you? A campaign meeting?”

  He walked me out and helped carry the coffee boxes and packages of scones to my car where Bo sat in the driver’s seat ogling us. “It’s just a regular meeting. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  Bo jumped out of the car when I opened the door and rushed straight to Dylan, who gave him a big pat on the head.

  “But you’re working on changes to your marketing campaign, right?”

  “Yes, but we do that every time.” He placed the coffee boxes on the floor of my front passenger seat.

  “Well, still. I feel like this is a big day for you, too, and I’m always there, so I feel bad that I’m missing it.”

  He took the scones from me and placed them on the passenger side seat. “Don’t feel bad.” He held my hands in his. “You’ve got a career, Lily. You’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing. I’m proud of you. Now, go and make me even more proud, got it?” He tapped his hand against his leg. “Come on Bo, let’s get this party started.”

  Bo stepped next to Dylan’s side.

  “He always listens to you much better than he does me.”

  Dylan pushed out his uniform clad chest and pointed at it. “That’s because I’m the alpha.”

  “Goodness gracious.”

  He gave me a peck on the f
orehead, wished me good luck and headed off with my dog. I silently wished him good luck. With everything happening, I worried his reelection wouldn’t go well, and I blamed myself. I couldn’t help but wonder what that would mean for Dylan and me, too. His opponent in the election was a long term deputy with years of experience and history in Bramblett, and someone well liked, too. He had a track record for being tough but fair, and promised to clean up crime in the county, regardless of his emotional connection to anyone. I took that as a slam against Dylan’s relationship with yours truly.

  Dylan wasn’t concerned and neither was his campaign manager, but I was. There was a lot riding on the campaign, my future for one thing, and though I hadn’t verbalized it to anyone, I had finally acknowledged to myself the election was the reason I’d yet to officially set a date for, or even begun the planning of my wedding. Well, it was part of the reason anyway. There was just so much that went into the planning process, and just the thought of it gave me anxiety. The thought of eloping crossed my mind many times, but my momma would never let me live that down, so I knew it wasn’t an option.

  I shook off the anxiety overwhelming me and climbed into my car. Before driving away, I sent Belle a text and let her know I was on my way to the townhome.

  “I’m pulling into the development now,” she responded.

  Five minutes later she called me. I hit the phone button on my steering wheel. “Hey, I’m almost there. What’s up?”

  “Dylan and Matthew are on their way, too. You may hear sirens, but I asked them not to use them.”

  “Oh no. Are the protesters already there?”

  “No, it’s not the protesters.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The townhome. It’s been vandalized.”

  Chapter 3

  How many times would one of my listings end up trashed? First Myrtle Redbecker’s, and now the townhome.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I walked into the unit, but Belle stopped me from going any further than the entry rug.

  “Wait. Matthew said not to touch anything, and to wait outside.”