by Nicole Ellis
“I’m moving into the carriage house for a while.” She edged over toward the door and pushed it opened a crack. Maybe her mom would take the hint and leave.
“Why?” Her mother’s face twisted in confusion. “Are you painting the walls? I always thought this place could use a paint job. Have you thought about a cheery yellow? It would brighten up this room.”
“No, I’m not painting,” Gretchen said. “I’ve decided to rent my house out for the tourist season. There are so many tourists here for the summer that I might as well earn some money off of them if I have to deal with them every day.”
“So you’re listing it in the nightly rental pool?”
“No, I found someone who will be renting it on a monthly basis.” She jutted out her chin. “She’s very nice. I didn’t need this much space anyways.”
Her mother looked at her with suspicion. “Do you need money? Are you in trouble? Is it credit card debt?”
“No! I’m not in trouble. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know. You love this house and you’ve been so distant lately. Your father and I have invited you over for dinner every Sunday and you haven’t accepted in weeks.”
“I’ve been busy.” She pointed to the boxes. “I’ve got to finish packing. You should probably go.” She pushed the door open further.
“I’ll help you.” Her mother got to her feet and walked briskly over to the end table. She grabbed the packing tape dispenser, unfolded a box and laid a line of tape across the bottom. “What should I pack in here?”
Gretchen sighed and allowed the front door to close. Her mother was a force of nature. In truth, she did have a lot to pack before Charlotte arrived the next day and she could use the assistance.
“You can help pack up the kitchen. Follow me.” She showed her mom the items to pack first. “I’m leaving the furniture, but everything else needs to go in boxes. I’ve already removed everything I’ll need in the carriage house.”
They packed for two hours, only speaking a few words to each other now and then.
“Gretchen,” her mother finally said, hesitantly. “Why are you really moving out of the big house?”
Gretchen stopped what she was doing. Should she confide in her? Her parents had never understood before that she needed her independence. They’d always thought they knew best.
“I want to move to Seattle.” There, she’d said it out loud. She peeked at her mother over the glass dish she’d been wrapping.
“Seattle? Why?” She looked puzzled. “All of your family and friends are here. Your job, your house. Why would you want to move?”
“That’s exactly why. Something is missing from here. I’ve never experienced much more of the world than Candle Beach.” She set the dish in the box. “I’ve always worked for you guys and never been out on my own.”
“You went to college out of state,” Eliza said. “You were on your own then.”
“It’s not the same thing.” How could she explain this? “At college, I was still dependent on you for some money and everything was laid out for me—where I’d live, eat, and study. Then I came back here and fell into the same situation. I work for you and Dad, and I live in a house that belonged to my grandmother. I need to figure some things out on my own.”
“Okay,” her mother said slowly. “So what kind of job are you going to look for in Seattle?”
“I want to stay in real estate. I love real estate.” She paused and looked directly into her eyes. “But I don’t want to be a property manager anymore.”
“I don’t understand.” Her mother set down a pile of utensils in a box. “We thought you loved your job. You’re so good at it. All the tourists rave about how helpful you are.”
“I do like my job, but it’s not my dream.”
“How are you going to find clients in Seattle? Do you have contacts there?” Worry lines wrinkled her face.
“There’s this job...” Gretchen began.
“Where? In Seattle?” Her mother pushed herself to standing and arched her back to stretch it.
“No, in Candle Beach. Well, just down the road. It’s that new development a few miles south of town—Oceanview Estates.”
Her mother nodded. “I know what you’re talking about. Your father and I thought about trying for the job, but we’re already stretched so thin with tourist season coming up.” She picked up the box she’d packed and stacked it against the corner.
“Right. If I get the job, think of the commissions I’d make. Not only that, but the owner, Martin Egglesby, owns several other developments all over the Northwest.” Gretchen beamed with enthusiasm. “Think of all the opportunities for me that this could create.”
“But wait, I heard through the grapevine that someone from Gray and Associates was a shoo-in for the job.”
Gretchen grimaced. “Unfortunately, you heard correctly.”
Her mother ran water into the teakettle and set it on the stove. “Aren’t you dating one of the Gray boys?”
“Yes, Parker Gray,” she said tersely. She removed two mugs from the cupboard. “And he’s the other person being considered for the job.”
“Oh.” Eliza was quiet for a moment. “So what does that mean for you? Wouldn’t it be strange to be in competition with each other?”
“It’s not a problem,” Gretchen said. “I broke it off with him.” Well, she hadn’t done so yet, but it was on her agenda for the next day. She watched steam shoot out of the teakettle and wished for it to be ready to pour—anything to take her mind off of Parker. As if by her command, the teakettle whistled.
“I’m sorry about Parker.” Her mom handed her a teabag and poured the boiling water into the mugs.
“You made it quite clear that you disapproved of a relationship between Parker and me.”
“True, but I still don’t like to see you hurting.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I knew it wouldn’t work out. I have to focus on getting the job.”
“I’m sure the developer will see how great you are.” Eliza dunked her teabag in the water.
Gretchen sat down in one of the two kitchen chairs. She brought the tea cup to her mouth, but it was too hot to drink.
“Actually, he called right before you arrived and told me he plans to give Parker the job.”
“What?” her mother said. “Why?”
“He thinks Parker is better qualified than I am.” She blew on the tea, sending tendrils of steam dancing into the air. “And he’s probably right. Parker has years more sales experience than I do.”
“That’s probably our fault,” her mother said. “We thought you liked managing the properties and didn’t want the stress of sales.”
“No, it always seemed exciting to me, but you never wanted me to move into that role.” She leaned back in the chair. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I asked Martin to give me another chance. At eleven o’clock tomorrow morning I have to somehow prove to him that I’m better than Parker Gray.”
“Well, you’re the best property manager we have. I wasn’t kidding. The tourists love you. Can you use that to prove you’re the best choice?”
“It’s all I’ve got.” Gretchen sighed. “I can’t magically give myself more sales experience overnight, so I’ve got to use the skills I already have. If I don’t get this job, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. We didn’t know you felt this way. Next time we get a new client, I’ll have your father refer them to you.” Eliza’s mouth turned down and her eyes were bright with tears.
“Mom, it’s not even about that anymore.” Gretchen moved over to hug her. She pulled back and looked into her mother’s eyes. “I need to do something for me. I can’t work for the family business much longer. Maybe sometime in the future I can come back, but for now, I need to be independent. Please understand.”
“Okay. But honey, please let us know if there’s anything we can do to help. We’d be happy to prepare a reference for
you if it would help.” Eliza dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “We don’t want you to go, but both of us want you to be happy. It’s all we ever wanted. Please know that.”
“I do.” Gretchen hugged her again and then surveyed the room. “There’s a lot of stuff left to pack. If I’m going to have enough time to prepare a presentation good enough to convince Martin to hire me, we’ll need to hurry.”
Eliza laughed and wiped her eyes again before picking up her tape dispenser. “Lead the way.”
Gretchen sat in her car in front of the sales office and took ten deep breaths. This was the biggest moment of her life. If she failed, it was back to Candle Beach Real Estate. Although her mother had promised her she could become more involved with the real estate sales part of the business, she knew it wouldn’t be the same as having a major sales role for a new residential subdivision.
Raindrops fell on her face as she stepped out of the car. Dark thunderclouds threatened to dump buckets of water on her if she didn’t get inside soon. She held her raincoat hood tightly against her face to avoid messing up her hair and ran for the building. Under the overhang, she paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. When ready, she removed her jacket and hung it over her arm.
She ducked her head inside the sales trailer. “Mr. Egglesby?”
“Come in, come in. Please, call me Martin.” He folded his hands in front of him and stared at her expectantly. “Have you come to wow me?”
“I hope so,” she said brightly. She pulled out a file with comments left by past clients. “You’re right that I don’t have as much sales experience as other candidates. But what I do have is a passion for this. I will do whatever it takes to make sure that a customer has the best experience possible when they work on a home deal here. I want people to love their new home. That is something not everyone can offer.”
She held out a piece of paper from her folder. “These are comments from some of the customers I’ve worked with in the past. I’ve never had a customer that was dissatisfied with my work.”
He set his glasses on his nose and scanned the document.
“Impressive. I can see that you really care about your work in property management. But what makes you think that you’d be good at real estate sales?”
She took a deep breath. “Because I’ll work twice as hard as anyone else to make the sale. I can work nights, weekends, anytime really. I want to show you how dedicated I am.” She glanced at the positive comments she’d received in the past. Strengthened by the support of her clients, she stared straight into Martin’s eyes. “You won’t be disappointed in me.”
“Well, thank you,” he said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
He smiled back at her and nodded. They shook hands and said goodbye to each other.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. The thunderstorm had passed, leaving behind the acrid scent of recent rain. She stared up at the sun that peeked through the clouds. She’d done it. Only time would tell if Martin wanted to hire her, but she’d presented herself confidently. She was one step closer to realizing her dream of moving to Seattle.
“Gretchen,” a man called out.
She lowered her focus from the sunny skies with a sense of déjà vu. “Parker.”
He smiled at her and didn’t seem to notice the icy quality of her voice. “I’m so glad to see you. You didn’t give me a chance to explain earlier.”
“What do you have there?” She pointed to the plastic bag he held in his hands. It was emblazoned with the Gray and Associates logo.
He had the good grace to blush. “Uh, just a few things I brought by for Martin.”
She stalked over to him and tugged the bag open. It was filled with one of Parker’s business cards and some measuring tapes with the Gray and Associates logo. They were nestled snugly against a bottle of liquor.
“You brought him Scotch?” she accused. The good ole boy network was alive and well.
He shrugged. “He mentioned in our interview that he enjoyed it, so I figured I’d bring him a bottle.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So you’re bribing him.”
“No, I’m not bribing him. I’m giving him a bottle of Scotch. It’s a common business practice.” He sighed. “Look Gretchen, we both want this job. This is business, nothing else.”
She stared at him, openmouthed. Was their situation really that black and white to him?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “We both have our reasons for wanting this job, but only one of us will be chosen. If the other candidate had been someone else, I’d do the same thing. You haven’t exactly given me a reason to treat you any differently than anyone else.” He pointed to the phone she held in her hand. “I’ve called at least five or six times.”
“Yeah, well, don’t bother calling again,” she said. “I’m not going to answer.” Heat traveled up her neck and flushed her face. She gripped her phone in one hand and clenched her other fist. How could he say she was just like anyone else? Now, more than anything, she wanted the job. Not to have the job itself, although that would be nice, but she wanted to beat Parker Gray. She turned on her heels, beeped her car to unlock it and drove away.
She fumed about Parker the whole way home. When she pulled into her driveway, a familiar car was parked in the alley spot furthest from the carriage house.
11
Gretchen walked over to the big house and let herself in via the unlocked back door.
“I found the key you left me under the mat.” Charlotte tossed the key in the air and caught it in her palm.
Gretchen nodded. “Glad you were able to get in while I was out.” Charlotte had opened the windows for ventilation and fresh air circulated throughout the house, bringing with it the scent of magnolia blossoms. Gretchen glanced around the room. Some paintings leaned against the wall and stacks of boxes were piled in the middle of the floor. “Did all of these fit in your car?” If so, she must be a master packer. Her sedan wasn’t that big.
“Yes,” Charlotte laughed. “Overpacking cars is my superpower.” She leaned over to open a box and removed some knickknacks, which she set on the end table. “I’ve moved in all my clothes and linens upstairs already. I don’t have much stuff. Most of my money is tied up in the store.”
“The store?” She wasn’t aware that her new tenant owned a store.
“Yes, I thought I told you.” Charlotte looked at her and shook her head. “Sorry, sometimes I can be a space case. Have you seen the Airstream trailer parked downtown in the empty lot next to Pete’s Pizzeria?”
“I have, why?” She’d figured the Airstream belonged to a local business owner and they’d parked it there until they could find a better place to store it.
“That’s my new shop. I’ll be selling out of the Airstream—mainly gift items and other fun stuff, but some of my art too. It’ll be called ‘Whimsical Delights.’ Isn’t that a great name? My sister thought it up.”
“It’s great.” Now that she thought about it, she had noticed the Airstream being polished and new flowers planted outside of it. She’d been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn’t given it another thought. “So is this a new business?”
Charlotte beamed. “Kind of, kind of not. I’d been selling my art out of a shop in Haven Shores and I decided that I wanted to have more control over where I sold from. So I bought the Airstream and moved up here.”
“That’s fantastic. I’m happy for you.” Charlotte had done exactly what she hoped to do herself, although in a different industry and opposite locale. She gazed at the paintings propped against the wall. An ocean scene caught her eye. Even sideways, it was beautiful. “Is that one of yours?” She nodded at the canvas.
“It is,” Charlotte said. “One of my earlier works. Not as advanced as the technique I now use, but there’s something about it that I love.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Gretchen moved closer to the painting to admire
it. The blues and greens seemed to jump off the canvas. “Now I see why you were checking out the light in the upstairs bedroom so intensely.”
“Guilty as charged,” Charlotte said. “I intend to make the room that faces the ocean my studio. Don’t worry, I’ll put something down on the floors to keep the paint off of them.”
Gretchen smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing some of your other works.”
“Knock, knock,” a man said as he pushed the front door open. “Char, I’ve got the rest of your stuff in my car.”
“It’s my brother,” Charlotte explained. “Come in!” she called before Gretchen could beat a hasty retreat.
Parker walked in and his eyes met Gretchen’s. “Hi,” he said. “Long time no see.”
She stared at him then turned to walk toward the kitchen and the door to the backyard. Was he seriously acting like everything was okay between them?
He caught up with her and tugged at her shoulder to get her to turn around. Her shoulder burned where his fingers brushed against her thin silk blouse. She stopped, unsure of what she was feeling. Part of her wanted to give him another chance, but was there even hope for the two of them?
“Gretchen, wait.” He dropped his hand. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean what I said. Well, giving a new client a bottle of Scotch to seal the deal is a pretty common practice at our company, but I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t care about you.”
She said nothing.
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but I have grown to care for you. If I didn’t need this job, I would have given it up immediately.” His shoulders slumped and he twisted his fingers. “Can you forgive me?”
Charlotte approached them. “What’s going on here? I feel like I’m missing something.” She punched him lightly on the arm.
Parker turned to his sister. “I was a jerk earlier and I’m begging Gretchen for forgiveness.”
“Over a rental application?” Charlotte’s eyes flitted between the two of them. “I’m so confused. How do you two know each other?”