Chapter 3
The warm Southern California sun danced about on the pool. Sarah handed out a mixture of appetizers and real estate pamphlets to her crowd of possible buyers. She had hired a bounce house, as well as a face painter to round out this open house. She knew she would have to up her game, and she was going for broke in an attempt to make every sale she could. As kids splashed in the tiled pool, a group of parents smiled and chatted amongst themselves. Sarah made her way to each little clique, making sure that everyone had her info and answering any questions along the way. As she stretched her long arms to the sky, she felt truly at one with her self. She was in her element, and firing on all cylinders. Jessica chose to help out with the open house, and she strolled over to congratulate Sarah on a great turnout.
“It looks like you outdid yourself girl. Nice work!” She touched her red plastic cup to Sarah's as they sat back and watched the children frolicking on the lawn. “I wish this was booze.” Jess admitted with a frown.
“Ugh, I'm off the sauce for awhile. The last time I got plastered, I ended up groping a stripper.” Sarah said, while she sipped from her cup full of fruit punch.
Jessica could only stare at her friend in silence while her mouth hung open.
Across the tract, Joe was giving a group tour through one of his houses. This particular one featured a stunningly large underground wine cellar, an opulent add-on to an already high- end home. As the group smiled and sipped top shelf Merlot, Ernesto came in and motioned for Joe to come talk.
“So, what's going on over there?” He asked Ernesto in a confidential tone.
“It's pretty bad. She's got a bounce house, there's kids in the pool, and everyone looks happy.” He said to his boss.
Joe mulled over this information as he swirled the dark wine around in his mouth. He loved a good Merlot...
After a brief moment of silence, he pulled out his phone and made a call. Ernesto listened in, and gave his boss a perplexed look as he hung up.
“Boss man, ju sure you want to have a party clown come here? This ain't the crowd for that.”
Joe gave his assistant a smile and held up his glass to toast the affluent group. “Oh, it's not for us!”
The day wore on, and Sarah tried her best to stay on the shaded patio. The etched concrete was stained a dark green, and she found herself pondering it with idle relaxation. She was shook out of her daydreams by Jessica, when she came sprinting over on her tall heels.
“Oh my God Sarah! We've got a problem! A big, BIG problem!”
Right as Sarah began looking around, she saw a figure though the wrought iron gate that opened to the back yard. Before she knew what happened, the large gate flew open, and a filthy bum dressed as some kind of party clown came running into the center of the lawn. The disgusting man stood right in front of a crowd of moms and kids and blew a snot rocket right into the group-
“HEY KIDS! WHO WANTS TO MAKE BALOON ANIMALS AND SHIT!! AH HAHAHAHA!!!” The wretched man yelled maniacally. With that, he reached into his pants and pulled out a handful of unrolled latex condoms. As he laughed and drank from a forty-ounce bottle of beer, he sprayed the crowd with his foamy spittle. The remaining moms and children filtered out of the backyard as if it were filled with toxic waste. They shielded their young children while they made their way around the creepy man and his disturbing clown act.
Sarah looked on as the back yard filtered out. There was no chasing after them, and no second chances. This day was done and gone. As Jessica finished prodding the creepy clown out of the back yard at the end of a broom, Sarah felt an email pling in:
Look at it this way; at least they won't bill you for the therapy sessions!
BTW, The second strike of a samurai sword is the deeper one. Keep that in mind next time Miss Bella!
-Joseph Blake
Sarah could only groan in defeat. She knew that this would only get darker weirder from her on out.
Her life became consumed with thoughts of revenge. As the friendly, athletic girl she used to know herself as slowly dissolved away, she found something much more confusing and complicated underneath. As if she were a plaster statue eroded by acid rain, her foundational armature of rusty, twisted wires was beginning to show through.
Like all slow transformations, this one was unnoticeable at first. Her gym attendance declined when she focused her evenings on protecting her houses. The hot cocoa that was her warm evening ritual became a tumbler full of scotch. She needed it to help get to sleep, which was beginning to wane as well.
Through it all, was the grinding, teasing contact she had with Joseph Blake. The enigmatic man seemed to know everyone, and nobody seemed to have the full story on him. Everything that was gleaned from her contacts was one half-truth wrapped in a rumor that someone heard. Every day, he emailed her to taunt her about the upcoming deadline. As her friends and family fell out of touch with her, she became the very thing that Joe was himself; a lonely, driven soul that sought stimulation in the most avant garde ways. She became a regular at the Kitty Kat Ranch. At first, it was to suss out intel on the real estate moguls who gathered there. Later on, it just became a place on the way home to grab a drink and chat with Roxy, her unlikely new friend.
“Girl, why do you keep coming in here?” There's gotta be some cute little yuppie bar that would suit you better.” Roxy teased, as she watched Sarah toss back a shot of whiskey. “You better slow down. If I have to, I will get you cut off.” She admonished.
“Last one, I swear! I have to drive home you know.” Sarah replied.
As the bright afternoon sun blasted into the club, Sarah turned to see Jessica timidly walking in through the open door. After the door closed, everything went back to its regular hue of maroon and pink. Sarah watched over her shoulder as Jessica approached.
“Sarah? Why did you want to meet me here?” She asked with a wide-eyed look on her face.
“Because, this is a quiet place to think. Have a seat. Roxy, this is my friend Jessica. Jessica, this is my friend Roxy.” Roxy smiled to the both of them, and strolled off to offer up a private dance to a patron. With it down to just the two of them, Jessica unleashed her full freak out.
“Oh my God! Sarah? What are you doing? You're drinking in a strip club, and it's three in the afternoon! What’s going on with you! I haven't seen you in the office in over a week.” She blurted out in one long streak of syllables.
“Relax, I checked in with Mr. Nelson. By the way, he's a silent partner in this place.” She said, gesturing around with her empty shot glass. “I see him all the time in here.” She let that new little morsel of knowledge swim around in Jess's head while she stood up to stretch. After Jessica pulled her jaw up off the floor, she continued her mother hen routine.
“This little wager between you and Joseph Blake is blowing up. It's all anyone will talk about. The thing is; you're actually both neck and neck! Not that you would know, since you slid of the face of the Earth or something. You have two weeks to go, and two more open houses. If you pull this off Sarah, you're the one at the top of the dog pile!”
“Yeah, and if I don't I'm the indentured servant to the most chauvinistic power monger this side of Genghis Khan. Look, I just wanna finish up here and go have a shower.” Tell the office hi for me.” She said. Sarah slid off of the pink vinyl barstool and walked confidently out the door.
She struggled to adjust her eyes to the bright sunny day, as she felt an email buzz in:
Hey, lets lay down the weapons for a bit and get a drink.
-Joseph Blake.
Sarah looked long and hard at the message. While she stared blankly at her phone, it began ringing loudly. So startled that she almost dropped it in a storm drain, she unlocked the screen and answered.
“Hey Joe! Are you calling a truce?” She teased, as she fished her sunglasses out of her bag.
“No, but I am taking a time out so we can catch our breath. Look, I need to relax and stretch my limbs before we break for the final sprint. Lets
just meet for cocktails and call it good?” He offered.
“Make it dinner and you're on.” She replied flatly. Her liver thanked her profusely for turning down more booze.
“It's a deal. Why don't you come over to my place then?” He said in a calculated manner.
“Hmm, going into the lion's den while it's feeding time? I don't think so Joey boy.” She teased evenly in response.
“Ugh, look; I can cook like it's nobody's business. I was merely offering to prepare a meal that I had control over. That's all.”
Sarah's stomach growled and groaned at the thought of a home cooked meal. All of her planning had left her as a vessel full of takeout food and liquor store sandwiches. “Alright, you have my stomach's attention. Where's your place at?” She turned when she heard the telltale snarl of his turbocharged Porsche. Looking up at her from the low-slung car, he smiled genuinely as he reached over to open the door.
Sarah wasn't sure how she pictured Joseph Blake's house. In her head, she had always envisioned him sleeping in some kind of criostasis while his batteries recharged or something. In reality, he had very good taste. The twisting, Oceanside road dipped and switched through sunlit canyons as they climbed above the other mansions and high-priced homes, and into the hills even more. After one last turn, there arose in the hills a brilliant white Spanish style villa, with pronounced archways and winding vines. It was set into the cleft of the mountainside, with Manzanita trees flanking the back and side yards as the property spread into the hills behind. In front, a large reflecting pool cast shimmering gold swirls upon the flawless, white plaster exterior of the large house. While they waited for the entry gate to slowly swing open, Joe cleared his throat and spoke up to break the silence.
“Sarah, I was serious. This is a reprieve from our little wager. Tonight is off limits from everything else we've done so far. Understand?”
Sarah nodded slowly as she took in his intense, candid demeanor in the little car. “Uh, okay. A real truce it is. Just like the Romans would do.”
The gate finished it slow swing, and Joe swung the car into the opening garage that spread like a cavern under the house.
“Like the Romans?” He asked with a smile, as he came around to open her door. She swung her right leg out, and had to give a demure smile of her own as he offered his hand to help her out of the low slung car. She watched as Joe's wandering gaze fell on her legs a little too long. She liked the attention, but it still felt odd to be having dinner with the man who was trying to best her at this dog-eat-dog competition.
Sarah continued her explanation. “During the battle of Troy, the soldiers would take breaks to gather their dead and celebrate the day's victories. Then the next day, it was back to slaughtering one another.” She said. Sarah followed him in through the entryway to the main living room.
She tried to take in the entire interior at once, but it was difficult to say the least. Facing towards the ocean was a wall of plate glass windows that stretched from the floor level, all the way up to a loft-style library that was accessed by an ornate spiral staircase. The opposite wall was festooned with a mix of curio cabinets and large canvas paintings. The paintings ranged from impressionist, all the way to garish graphitti-style street art. A low-angled wall that jutted off toward the entry way was decorated with photos that looked like the ones from the sushi place.
“So, what do you think?” Sarah was startled out of her appraisal, as she whipped around to see that he was standing behind her with a glass of wine.
“Oh my God! You scared the daylights out of me!” Where did you go?”
“The kitchen. Remember, I'm cooking us dinner? I'm sorry I scared you.” He said with a smirk, as he placed his hand on her shoulder.
Sarah felt his touch on her bare skin, as his finger traced over the tiny spaghetti strap of her thin top. She held the cool glass in her hand, while she angled her head to feel his touch against her cheek as well. The silence was only broken intermittently, as the crashing surf blasted against the distant cliffs.
“Oh! I have dinner to tend to!” Joe said with a start.
Sarah was jolted back to the present, while he went to go tend to the delicious smells that were now emanating from the kitchen. Her eyes fluttered back open as she followed behind. “I'll come help too.”
As they stood in his kitchen, she chopped carrots and celery while he finished pan searing the fish. After they plated everything, Joe led her out to an enclave that was windowed in from the cold ocean breeze, but still allowed an unfettered view of the entire coastline from his cliff side property. While they quietly ate, Sarah tried to avoid craning her head around to look at more of the house. She wanted to know so much more about the enigmatic Joseph Blake, but being here was really clouding her abilities to gather info on him.
“I'll take you on a tour after dinner.” He said with a chuckle. Sarah turned back around to see him gazing at her with a warm smile.
“I'm sorry, but I just don't know anything about you. Ugh, frankly, nobody else does either.” She admitted with a confessing sigh. She set her fork down and perched her face in her hands as she watched him. “I mean nothing. I even checked the newspaper archives. There was a press piece about a woman you were with, and that was it.
Joe wiped his hands on a white cloth napkin and nodded thoughtfully. “Her name was Jennifer. We were married right after she finished school. I graduated a couple of years ahead of her, and I helped her with tuition. She had dreams of being a big shot brain surgeon, so she went back to school to pursue it and we divorced. I just wanted to settle down, but she was convinced I was selling myself short becoming a realtor.”
“I didn't mean to pry-”
“No no, it's fine!” He said quickly. “It was actually the divorce that spurned me on to be the guy I am now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, after the split, I threw myself into my work. I networked, I researched big buys on land, and wooed developers with cut rate commissions to land clients and contracts. Now, I single handedly run the most successful real estate firm in Southern California. It's just me and Ernesto, and he's more than I need sometimes.” He said, punctuating his statement with a cathartic sigh.
“Well, here's to making lemonade with your lemons.” Sarah said brightly, as she held up her glass in toast.
Joe clinked the rim of his glass to hers. “How about we take that tour now?”
Sarah was amazed at how cozy the large house seemed to be. All throughout the place, there were little nooks and enclaves to relax or meditate in. While he led her past more fashionable art and sculpture, she continued to press him for information as politely as possible.
“So, are you in a relationship right now?” She finally probed cautiously.
She saw him smile a little as they rounded their way up the spiral stairs to the lofty little library nook.
“I don't think I've actually been in a relationship since Jennifer. I've been with women, but nothing serious. How about you?” He queried, in an attempt to turn the tables.
Sarah pondered the question while she played with the strap on her top. Joe reached out to untwist it, as she let her hands fall back to her sides. His warm touch was upon her again, and she was having trouble focusing through the elixir of a full belly and three glasses of wine.
“Um, nothing serious. Just college guys while I was in school. When I got my realtor's license, I tried to settle down with a guy named Trent Anderson, but he was always complaining about my working too much and blah, blah blah.” She finished, puppeting her ex boyfriend with her hand.
“It would seem that we're cut from the same cloth, you and I.” Joe said in a low voice, as he offered her a seat in a beautiful oak desk chair.
He stood over her, with his warm skin almost radiating through his thin white dress shirt. She could feel his leg against hers though his slacks, and she began to wonder what his intentions really were for bringing her out here. In one smooth motion, he spun Sarah around in the chai
r to face away from him and placed his large hands securely on each shoulder. With deft, strong digits he began kneading and massaging her tense muscles. She emitted a low, satisfied moan when she finally realized that her body was wound up tighter than a clock spring.
“Does that feel good?” He purred in a low voice.
“Oh God yes...” She managed to utter, as she felt her muscles relaxing.
She was going all warm and tingly, and she suddenly didn't care about being here with her bitter rival. Her guard was slipping away like a thin sheet from a windblown clothesline. Every so often, Joe would laugh softly at her cooing approval of his technique. After a while, he leaned down and spoke softly into her ear.
“Alright Miss Bella, you're all done.”
She stood up, and swayed a little bit from the wine and the vigorous massage. She blinked a few times, and moved her head around on her neck.
“Wow, where did you learn how to do that?”
“I took a couple of classes to become a masseur. I might even still be certified, I'm not sure though.” He replied with indifference.
“You cook, you're a massage expert,” Sarah paused to look around the spacious, art gallery interior of his house, “and you obviously have impeccable taste. I give up! You're either a serial killer, or you're gay. Which is it?” She demanded playfully.
“Neither, I assure you. I work too much to really hold down a relationship, and the domestic stuff keeps me grounded. I just like being good at everything I do, that's all.” He said with sincerity.
“Really?” Sarah retorted incredulously. She looked out toward the large windows. The dusk had come and gone, and now it was just pure inky black outside, as the halogen accent lights over the paintings provided the only illumination. They were both cast in a bath of up lighting, and she was transfixed once again on Joe's casual elegance.
He was wearing a Hemut Lang suit like it was something he gardened in. The suit coat had been eschewed for a fitted shirt with rolled up sleeves. His discarded tie hung out of his pants pocket, and his dress socks were scattered somewhere downstairs. This moment only served to personify him as the true alpha male he claimed to be.
Sarah caught herself swaying a little too much, and she had to brace herself against the ornate railing of the loft space. “Boy, its a good thing I didn't drive here!” She said, as Joe reached out to steady her with those strong hands.
“I'm not too sure I want Ernesto driving you home like this either.” Joe said in an appraising voice. “Why don't you sleep in the guest bedroom tonight?”
“I really have to...whoa, I need to sit down.” She slid into a nearby cafe chair as the swirling in her head intensified.
“I'm sorry Miss Bella, but you're in no shape to go anywhere.”
Sarah fell even deeper into whatever was happening to her. Instead of a full blackout, she was treated to a hodgepodge of flashed images and scenes. She first remembered being hefted over Joe's shoulder so he could carry her downstairs. Then there was the hallway leading to the guest bedroom. The last thing she remembered was her shoes being removed and a soft chenille throw being tucked around her.
Selling it All Page 3