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Daisy McDare And The Deadly Real Estate Affair (Cozy Mystery) (Daisy McDare Cozy Creek Mystery Book 4)

Page 3

by K. M. Morgan


  Daisy could never do that, so she had a hard time believing anyone else could either.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing. Are you ok?” Daisy asked.

  Scott looked confused. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Scott didn’t know what Daisy had overheard earlier. Clearly he was eager to put it all behind him—or pretend like nothing had happened. Either way, Daisy wasn’t going to press him.

  “No reason. What do you say we get down to business?” Daisy suggested.

  “Look at you, cutting right to the chase. I like it. Time is money, and I’m saving up for a new yacht,” Scott said.

  Yacht? Apparently Daisy was in the wrong business.

  “Why don’t you tell me what kind of decorating you’re looking for?” Daisy replied.

  “Alright, but there’s something you need to see first,” Scott insisted.

  ***

  “It’s majestic, isn’t it?” Scott asked.

  Scott was either completely delusional, or the most shameless salesman in the universe— or maybe a little of both. Scott had taken Daisy to the empty model home, and she was less than impressed by it. While Scott was trying to paint a grand picture, all Daisy saw were blank walls, empty rooms, and not enough square footage to go around.

  Majestic wasn’t the word she’d use to describe the model home. Sparse was more like it—and not just because the place hadn’t been decorated yet. The amenities were few and far between. The house had three bedrooms and two bathrooms, just as advertised, but very little else.

  It was completely bare bones. There was no style, no roominess, and no life in the design. Almost as if the architect came up with a blue print on his lunch break one day and never bothered to go back and fill in the details later.

  Whereas Daisy had initially been excited about the rock bottom price tag of the homes, living a bargain basement life in the boonies didn’t tickle her with excitement. So much for a majestic estate. There was no part of the name that lived up to its billing.

  Trying to sell this place as anything more than dozen paper-thin walls and a roof was like trying to pass off tapioca pudding as chocolate mousse. Scott Stinson was sure going to try however. The man had unlimited willpower and no shame. That was a dangerous mix if ever there was one.

  Daisy tried not to be too hard on the place—at least aloud. She had a job to do and was in no mood to jeopardize her paycheck.

  “Majestic? That’s one way of putting it,” Daisy replied.

  “I know it doesn’t seem like the stuff middle class dreams are made of, but that’s where you come in,” Scott explained.

  “So I’m supposed to make this house look majestic?”

  “You’re not just supposed to—you will. There’s a lot riding on your decorating skills here. I need Joe Six Pack and Jane Casserole to have their Sloppy Joe-eating minds blown when they walk in here as prospective buyers. We’re in the business of selling dreams, so it’s your job to make them forget about their ketchup-stained lives,” Scott declared.

  It was a good thing Daisy had already eaten breakfast. Scott had just thrown out too many culinary metaphors to digest on an empty stomach.

  Scott clearly believed he was giving Daisy food for thought, but she was too busy being put off by his patronizing assumptions about the middle class.

  “That’s an interesting way of looking at the middle class. I’ve never been accused of having a ketchup-stained life before,” Daisy deadpanned.

  Realizing he’d put his foot in his mouth, Scott tried to do some verbal gymnastics to back track.

  “Hey look. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been there. I wasn’t born wearing custom Italian suits. I had a beer-swilling, bowling league champion father and a lemonade-making, sweater-knitting mother. When I first got married twenty-eight years ago, my wife and I could barely scrape two pennies together to make rent,” Scott explained.

  “And look how far you’ve come.”

  “Exactly. Now I’m on top of the world like a complete boss. I want this model home to make the nine-to-fivers that come in here believe they can be like me one day, even if the best they can really do is shine my shoes.”

  Yikes. How unbelievably condescending. What a pompous jerk.

  Scott had a way of getting under Daisy’s skin. Even more, he didn’t even seem to be trying to. It just came naturally to him. If anything, this was his pathetic attempt to seem relatable.

  As insulting as Scott was, Daisy wasn’t in a position to be turning down work. She may not have any ketchup-stained blouses, but she wasn’t exactly saving up for yacht either.

  She just had to keep her calm, do her job, and collect her paycheck. She could tell Scott wasn’t going to make it easy.

  Daisy hated holding her tongue, but now wasn’t the time to put her foot in her mouth. She decided to keep the conversation focused on the job and leave her personal feelings out of this.

  “Are you saying you want me to sell them a dream they don’t have any chance of achieving?” Daisy asked.

  “No. What I want is for you to turn this model home into a legitimate majestic estate,” Scott said.

  Oh dear. Apparently Daisy was being hired to do the impossible. Those were just the unrealistic expectations she didn’t need. She kept hoping that Scott was joking, but he wasn’t.

  “Look. I’m a decorator, not a magician,” Daisy said.

  “I once knew a guy that could sell scuba gear in the desert.”

  “What does that have to do with this?”

  “Your décor is the scuba gear, and this model home is the desert. The fact is, this model home is going to need to look classy—stylish even. I want buyers to come in here and be sold a lifestyle. Do that, and they’ll sign on the dotted line in a heartbeat.”

  Daisy had to hand it to Scott—the man could say anything with a straight face, no matter how pie in the sky his ideas were.

  “You’re really serious, aren’t you?” Daisy asked.

  “Dead serious. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I have a killer instinct. Now I’m not giving up until this model home looks like a majestic estate. The question is, are you the decorator to do the job, or not?”

  Daisy felt like walking right out of there and not looking back. Problem was, that wouldn’t do her wallet any good. She was in the business of making money, not turning it down. She had bills to pay as well.

  Besides, Daisy’s phone wasn’t exactly ringing off the hook. There were only so many people in Cozy Creek and the surrounding area that needed decorating work done.

  It was a tough call, but Scott was about to force her to decide either way. It was clear he was getting restless being made to wait.

  “So, what do you say—do we have a deal?” Scott asked.

  Daisy shook Scott’s hand.

  “Deal,” she said.

  “Alright. You’d better get to it. You have a lot of work to do,” Scott replied.

  He wasn’t kidding.

  Just then, the receptionist Madison Mitchell entered the model home.

  “Mr. Stinson,” Madison said.

  Scott was dismissive of her. “I’m with someone.”

  “Yes, but your wife is on the line,” Madison insisted.

  “Tell her to call back.”

  “She said it’s urgent.”

  Scott scoffed. “Yeah right. All that woman does is spend my money. Urgency to her is getting a beat on the latest shoe sale.”

  “I’m just the messenger. She just keeps going on about you not picking up your cell phone and demanded that I come and get you,” Madison explained.

  Scott groaned. “Alright, this should be good.” After a moment of grumbling, he turned to Daisy. “I need to take this.”

  “That’s ok. I have plenty of planning to do anyway,” Daisy said.

  “You sure do. I’m expecting this estate to look majestic by the end of the week,” Scott declared.

  The receptionist looked around the empty t
hree bedroom house and tried not to laugh too hard at such a grandiose statement.

  Daisy however knew this was no laughing matter. Scott was convinced that she could pull off decorating magic. It was time for Daisy to pull out whatever tricks she had up her sleeve—and pronto.

  Chapter Six

  Daisy spent the rest of the morning designing her little heart out. There were expectations to live up to, and she planned on impressing Scott with her work. At the same time, she couldn’t pretend the pressure wasn’t on.

  Daisy knew she’d eventually come up with a dynamite design. She always did. If there was one aspect of her life she always excelled at, it was her job. Even when the rest of her life seemed to be falling apart around her, she was able to keep things on track at work.

  This time was no different. Of course it helped that she had the model home all to herself. The drama seemed confined to the sales office, and that’s how Daisy wanted to keep it. Even though she could work in chaotic situations, that doesn’t mean she wanted to. Peace and quiet was just fine with her.

  It took her several hours, but Daisy came up with some plans for the model home that she was happy with. She couldn’t wait to see what Scott was going to say about them. If he liked her designs, she could get started shopping today.

  It turned out Scott had other plans. As Daisy made her way back to the sales office, she was told that Scott had already left for a long lunch. So much for Daisy’s timeline. She’d have to wait until Scott returned to run her designs by him.

  With her own stomach starting to rumble, Daisy thought it might be a good idea if she grabbed some lunch herself. It was later than she thought and her blood sugar was crashing. Suddenly fried chicken and mashed potatoes where calling her name. She figured she’d be a fool not to answer a delicious call like that.

  ***

  An hour later, Daisy returned to the Majestic Estates with a belly full of Drake Drumstick’s Fried Chicken. It had been a comfort food frenzy. Crispy fried chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and a nice warm buttery biscuit. Her stomach couldn’t thank her enough.

  Apparently Scott Stinson had a far less comforting lunch than Daisy did. As Daisy waited outside his office to show him her decorating plans, there was a knockdown, drag out argument going on inside.

  Once again, it was a family affair. Only this time, it wasn’t Scott and his son fighting—rather Scott and his wife.

  Daisy stood outside Scott’s office at his assistant’s desk and tried to get the scoop.

  “What’s going on?” Daisy asked.

  “Shh, things are just starting to get good. Scott’s wife is really ripping him apart in there,” Ellie Edelson said.

  Daisy was surprised by how much glee Ellie seemed to be taking from the situation. It wasn’t often someone reveled so much in someone’s misfortune. Ellie must have really hated her boss, because she could barely keep a smile from her face as Scott’s wife tore into him inside the office.

  Was Scott as awful of a boss as Ellie was painting him as, or did Ellie have a dark side to her that was finding a way to peek out? Maybe it was a little of both. It was hard for Daisy to tell, given how little she knew of both of them. One thing was clear however—Scott Stinson sure knew how to make enemies.

  Ellie’s odd behavior aside, it was striking how clearly Daisy could hear the conversation in the office without even trying to eavesdrop. The walls in the sales office were pretty thin. On top of that, Scott’s door was left cracked open ever so slightly.

  That meant Daisy could hear every word as clear as day—not to mention sneak a peek of what Scott’s wife looked like. Kelly Stinson was in her early sixties, but Daisy would never know that by the way she dressed. Whereas most women wore tasteful outfits when they hit middle age, Kelly looked like she was desperately trying to reclaim her youth. Her red dress was way too short and form-fitting and revealing for a woman her age. She had far too much make up on, and was wearing hair extensions to boot.

  Considering the fact that Kelly Stinson was Daisy’s mother’s age, that was awfully troubling. Daisy cringed at the thought of seeing her mother in an outfit that revealing—not to mention wearing jewelry that gaudy.

  Daisy’s focus soon shifted from the outfit Kelly Stinson was wearing to the criticisms she was leveling against her husband.

  Kelly was piping hot with anger as she ripped into her husband.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been sleeping with my best friend,” Kelly barked.

  Scott played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw you kissing Carly Canton outside of Rizzuto’s Ristorante. No wonder she didn’t want to go shoe shopping with me. She already had plans of her own--like breaking up our marriage. Or are you going to pretend your lips just happened to press against hers by mistake?” Kelly asked.

  Scott got defensive and lashed out. “Do you not see me working here? I have serious things to attend to. I don’t have time for your rampant paranoia.”

  Kelly scoffed. “I’m not one of your underlings. I’m your wife. At least for now. After what I just saw, that won’t be true much longer.”

  Scott was outraged. “Are you threatening me?”

  “It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve had suspicions that you’ve being cheating on me. I just couldn’t prove it. Now that I can, I’m going to nail you to the wall.”

  “I’d be careful what you say. Remember who you’re dealing with here,” Scott warned.

  “You think I’m afraid of you? After what you did to me, you should be afraid of me. I’m so mad at you, I could kill you,” Kelly said.

  Surprisingly, Scott didn’t back off an inch. Just like the arguments he’d had with Patrick Potter and his son before, Scott didn’t blink.

  “You have no idea who you’re messing with,” Scott said.

  Kelly laughed. “Oh really? Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? Truer words have never been spoken.”

  Scott didn’t have any snappy remarks. He just had seething resentment. “Get out of my office. You have a lot of nerve.”

  “That’s right. Try to get rid of me. Enjoy your office while you can. I plan on taking every penny I can in divorce court.”

  Scott nearly blew his top at that comment. “Oh no you don’t. You can’t divorce me. I’ve built this company from the ground up, and I’m not going to let anyone take it from me, no less some housewife.”

  “So it’s a fight you want then? Well it’s a fight you’ll get,” Kelly warned.

  Scott finally snapped. “Get out.”

  ***

  Kelly then stormed out of Scott’s office and down the hallway. By that point, all the employees were paying close attention to the blow up.

  Scott and Kelly’s son’s Adam and Owen took particular interest.

  Owen tried to reach out to his mother as she rushed by. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Kelly was too much of an emotional wreck at that point to stop. She just wanted to get out of that office. She rushed on by, much to Owen’s chagrin.

  Her other son Adam was plenty shaken up by the fight as well.

  Both Owen and Adam followed their mother out to the parking lot, no doubt to comfort her.

  Daisy meanwhile felt like she needed to stop, drop, and roll. She worried projectiles could be hurled though the air at any moment. That was an earth-shattering blow up. Seismic even.

  Surprising as it was to see a marriage implode right before her eyes, this was hardly the first time Daisy had witnessed woes like that on the job. Too often recently it seemed to unofficially be ‘bring your drama to work’ day, and the whole office seemed eager to take part.

  Daisy couldn’t help but ask herself when the drama would stop? But no—the motto here seemed to be “so many arguments, such little time.”

  Daisy wanted to duck back into the model home now more than ever. Unfortunately, she couldn’t go on without Scott
getting to approve her design. At the same time, Scott was the last person she wanted to be having face to face time with.

  Daisy decided it would be best to get some fresh air for ten or fifteen minutes, then come back in when Scott was good and cooled off. She turned to Ellie.

  “You know what? I’ll come back later,” Daisy said.

  Daisy tried to quietly make an exit, but Scott was able to catch sight of her milling around at his assistant’s desk.

  “Daisy, is that you?” Scott asked.

  Ugh. There was no avoiding talking to Scott now. What awful timing. She had no interest in bearing the brunt of his wife’s scorched earth rant.

  “Uh—yes,” she replied.

  “What do you need?” Scott asked.

  “You know what? This is clearly a bad time. Why don’t I come back later?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Come on in, sit down.”

  “Oh--ok.”

  Oh joy. This was bound to be awkward.

  Surprisingly, just as earlier, Scott was determined to pretend like nothing had happened. He was either a master of compartmentalizing, or he was completely deluded. Either way, it felt like Daisy was staring at a lie as Scott went on with business as usual.

  “What have you got for me?” Scott asked.

  “I have the plans done for the model home,” Daisy revealed.

  “They’d better be majestic,” Scott said.

  “I think you’ll be very pleased.”

  Daisy then showed her plans to Scott. He looked them over with great scrutiny. The room got completely quiet all of a sudden.

  Daisy was usually very good at judging people’s faces, but she had no idea what he was thinking. She believed in her designs. She just hoped all the drama of the day didn’t bleed over to this matter.

  Then again, most often the hardest part of the job was dealing with competing tastes. Daisy sometimes came up with a rock solid design, but the client was adamant about having something different. As much as Daisy was a decorator, she was really in the business of pleasing her client more than anything.

 

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