by Julia Amante
And what he was thinking of doing was investing in a few quality homes in nice family neighborhoods, fixing them up, and renting them. This would bring him some income while the market steadied itself. People continued to need places to live. If they couldn’t afford to buy, they’d have to rent. He was also playing with the idea of restoring commercial property. This appeared to be more profitable right now. No matter what he decided to do, it would involve restoration of real estate. He loved his job, and he’d always found ways of making money in the past. That didn’t have to change now.
He came upon the house on his list. The beach house was small and dwarfed by the neighboring homes. It had a nice wraparound porch, but it was practically caving in on itself. Inside he found worn maple floors that could be restored, a small kitchen in need of renovation, but stunning windows. He could rent this place by the week and make a killing. With the famous Santa Monica pier and Venice Boardwalk close by, and the tons of shopping and restaurants available on the Third Street Promenade, this was a vacationer’s heaven. He stood on the crumbling patio and listened to the far-off calls of seals on Santa Monica Bay, and he imagined sitting out here in the mornings with a cup of coffee. That was enough to help him decide he was going to own it.
As he looked out at the horizon, he saw an older couple holding hands, walking along the surf. A look of contentment on their faces. For some reason, Jaqueline and Victor came to mind. He frowned. Turned around and looked inside the house again. Hadn’t she… mentioned a beach house? Had she been serious?
Getting a spark of inspiration, Eric rushed out of the house and jogged back to his truck. He called Victor on his cell and asked him to meet him at the beach house, and he drove to Burbank to pick up Jaqueline. She questioned him for the sudden need to pull her away from her photo organization project but went with him, laughing at his enthusiasm.
Her eyes sought his when she saw Victor waiting in front of the beach house. “Eric—”
“Come on, you’ll see.” He got out of the truck and hurried around the passenger side to open the door for her.
“Hey Victor,” he said, and opened the door with the key he’d been given by the Realtor. “I wanted to show you both this place.”
“Why?” Victor said, frowning as he took in the dirty walls, cracked ceilings, broken lights, and trash on the floor.
Jaqueline seemed equally perplexed until she walked to the large living room window and stared at the view. “Wow.”
Eric stood beside her. “I thought you’d like that. Great for early-morning walks.”
“How did you find this?”
“Luck. Not many cheap houses right on the beach. Not that this is cheap. You’re paying for the land the house sits on. But I can fix this up and have it looking like new.”
Victor joined them at the picture window. “Am I missing something?”
“Mrs. Torres told me her dream was to own a beach house somewhat like this one.”
“I didn’t say it was my dream,” she corrected. “I said it would be nice.”
Victor let his eyes take in the house with a more open expression on his face. “Nice floors,” he said.
“They can be,” Eric said.
“You want this place, Jaqui?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.
“Oh, I can’t afford this.”
“The price is steep,” Eric agreed.
Victor drew a breath and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Ah, thank you, Eric. Can we talk a little in private? I’ll lock up.”
“Oh,” he said, stepping back. “Sure.” He handed Victor the key. “I’ll get it from you tonight?”
“Sure. I’ll drop it off at your place.”
Eric slipped out the front door. Victor heard his truck start and drive off. Jaqueline walked gingerly around the small house.
“I never knew you wanted to live on the beach.”
She laughed. “I told him how much I enjoyed waking up every morning on that cruise and seeing the ocean. It felt so freeing and wonderful. I never had any illusions of living on the beach.”
Victor shrugged. “Why not?”
She looked embarrassed. “I was kidding. Dreaming. The way people say it would be nice to win the lottery. I’m sorry Eric dragged you out here.”
Victor gazed at his amazing wife. Never asking for much, never wanting anything from him but his love. “I wasn’t far. In fact, the Santa Monica restaurant is down the street.” He pointed in the general direction.
“Really? Great location.”
“I’ll drive by it when I take you home. We don’t have to wait for the grand opening.”
She nodded. Then she turned and peeked into the bedroom. This house was a disaster, but Jaqueline didn’t seem horrified by the look of it.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“About the house?”
“Can you see yourself living here?”
She smiled wistfully. “These days I can see myself doing lots of things I wouldn’t have considered in the past. You and the girls are making me think I need to take more chances. Live while I still can. Enjoy life a little more without expecting any of you to meet all my needs.” She faced him. “You know what I love?”
He arched an eyebrow. Him? “What?”
“That both Victoria and Carmen are doing the opposite of what we expected them to do.”
“You love that?” He was okay with it all now, but love it? No.
“I love their strength, their determination. It’s inspiring and refreshing to see them grow up and take control of their lives. In a way, we did that when we moved to America. But then we forgot to nurture that spirit of adventure. At least I did. And I’m sorry I stifled yours.”
She was apologizing to him? “No,” he said. “I’m the one who’s sorry for making such a momentous business decision without talking to you first. The least I could have done was tell you my plans. I was afraid you’d point out the very real possibility that I could fail.”
“I probably would have pointed out all the possible reasons why it was a bad idea. I’m sorry, Victor. ”
“It’s been good to have a balance between security and risk. We made a good pair.”
Her eyes skittered away and she stood in front of the window.
“Maybe moving out here is just the change we need,” Victor said.
“We?”
“New house. New start. Just for you and me. No kids.”
“Oh, Victor. You can’t afford an expense like this, either.”
He stood beside her and placed a hand on the side of her cheek. His thumb caressed her beautiful face that had grown wiser and more lovely each year. “I can. And if you’d like to live here with me—or without me, if that’s what you decide—I’d love to buy it for you.”
“To answer your earlier question, I can see myself living here. But I don’t know that I want to move. We’ve lived in Burbank all our lives. Raised the girls there. The club is close by. We have a home.”
She looked at the crashing waves. A man walked his dog as the water touched their feet. Victor thought he might like to have a dog. Retire on the beach? Not quite Argentina, but as much as it hurt to admit, his life was here now. He was never going back to live.
“Maybe we’re too old to start over,” she continued.
He took a chance and let his hand slide down her back. He eased her closer to him. “I’m still in love with you, Jaqui. We’re not too old to move to the beach and go for quiet walks in our bare feet on the sand. Or to read the paper on that patio once it’s fixed. Or even to have a passionate, romantic affair together.” He smiled. “We’re not too old to fall in love all over again.”
She smiled, too. “You don’t think so?”
“No, I don’t.” He angled his head and touched his lips softly against hers. They shared what he hoped was the first kiss of many.
She hugged him and drew a shuddering breath.
“I’m sorry for how much I’ve hurt you, Jaqueline. I promi
se you that I’ll do things right this time, if you’ll trust me one more time.”
She nodded against his chest.
Victor closed his eyes and thanked God for his good fortune. If this house got him his wife back, he’d do what he had to buy it. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” she echoed.
Chapter Twenty-four
A week later, Eric helped Victor make an offer on the house and worked out an amazing deal that would get Victor the house way below market value. Because of Victor’s already tapped resources and debt from the restaurant, Eric actually bought the house like he did every other flip. He would fix it up and sell it to Victor in a private deal. He didn’t intend to make any money on this project. He was happy to help out Victoria’s parents.
“Pibe,” Victor said, when they left the Realtor’s office. “I owe you.”
Eric smiled. “You don’t owe me anything.” He pulled out his truck keys. Not only had he purchased the beach house, but he was headed to the post office to mail in a check to pay off the Burbank remodel, which would now be his house.
“You can’t imagine how excited my wife is.”
“I’ll meet with her later this week. She can tell me how she wants to fix it up, and I’ll get the contractors working.”
Victor slapped his shoulders. “Gracias.”
“You’re welcome,” Eric said.
“And Eric, maybe I didn’t give you such good advice with Victoria. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have rushed you into proposing before you were ready—”
“It was fine advice.” He nodded. “I proposed because I wanted to, not because you told me to. Remember, I came to you.”
“I know, I just feel… horrible.”
“Don’t.” He got in his truck and waved as he pulled away. He headed to the dealership where his father worked.
Antonio looked surprised when Eric walked into the showroom. Eric thought Dad looked good in his spiffy little suit.
“Selling any cars today?”
“Not many. What are you doing here?” he asked with a wide smile.
“I need a car, of course.”
Antonio laughed. “You have a car.”
“I have a work truck.” He leaned close to his father’s ear. “Not exactly a sex machine, if you know what I mean.”
Antonio crossed his arms. “I’m not selling you that kind of car,” he said.
“Show me a nice family car, then,” he said.
“Come on,” Antonio clapped a hand on his shoulder and strolled with him through the lot. “Your mom tells me you’re going to roll the dice and stay around here.”
“Yep. Paid off my house today.”
Antonio whistled. “Do you know I’ve got five more years on mine?”
“Want me to pay it off?”
“No,” he said. “I’m going to be able to do that myself soon.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, remember those tax lien certificates you told me not to get involved in?”
Eric narrowed his gaze. “I remember.”
“Well, I didn’t listen to you. I would have if you had let me invest in your flip. But when you didn’t want to partner up with me, I used the money to buy a couple of those.”
Great, Eric thought.
“One person got current on their property taxes, and so I got my money back with heavy interest. The other abandoned the property, and so now I have a house in Arizona to sell. I’m going to sell it and pay off our place. If I have enough left over, I’m going to take your mother on another cruise. She had too much damn fun without me, so I figure I’d better take her on another one and show her an even better time.”
Eric stared at his father with his jaw slack. “You bought some certificates, and you… you made money? I mean—”
“It’s taken me a lifetime, but I’m learning. Yeah, I made money.”
Eric chuckled. “Hell, Dad, that’s great.”
“I’m not sure what condition this home in Arizona is in, but maybe we can go take a look and you can fix up whatever needs to be done.”
Damn, his viejo had his first investment property. “All right,” Eric said, nodding. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“You really should look at these tax lien things, Eric. With the downturn in the market, there are thousands of properties with back taxes due. Great opportunities.”
“Yeah, but I sort of like fixing houses up.” And a part of him didn’t like the idea of making money off of someone else’s misfortune. It was business, and a way for the state to get their money. He knew that. Business was business. And the world was cold and hard, and the Donald Trumps of this world got rich because of it, but that wasn’t for him. He smiled at his father. “Mom will really like another cruise. You better tell her about that before you tell her you’re sending me to Arizona.”
He frowned and rubbed his chin. “Yeah, she’s not going to like that part much. But it’ll be temporary.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“And when I sell the place, I’ll surprise her with the cruise.”
He chuckled. Antonio was a good man. Eric wanted to be like his father, which was a hell of a thing for him to want, because for so many years he wanted to be nothing like him. “So about my car. What do you recommend?”
“Save your money. Get married. Have a kid. Then let Victoria pick out the car.”
“Victoria, huh? She turned me down.”
“Not what I heard.”
Eric nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It was exactly what I heard. Wish I’d have listened better, because that’s not what she said. I’m an idiot.”
“Happens to the best of us.” Antonio headed back to the showroom. “Well, when she comes back, apologize, beg for forgiveness, and if all that fails, come back for the love machine.” He laughed.
Eric grinned and detoured to his truck. “See you on Sunday.”
“Ciao.”
When he got home, he prepared the rented furniture for the afternoon pickup. Everything was going back. By tonight the house would be empty. And that made him happy.
The truck arrived at about three in the afternoon. Victoria arrived unexpectedly at around four. His heart began a frantic beat. She got out of the car and frowned as the men loaded the truck with the items from the house. Eric forced his legs to move and he met her in the front yard.
“Welcome home,” he said. Damn, she looked good.
She held a suitcase in her hand. “Thanks, but what’s going on?” she asked.
He looked over his shoulder as the guys loaded the truck. “Can’t keep the rented things forever. We were only supposed to have it during the staging period.”
“Right. It must be costing a fortune.”
“Story of my life these days. Let me help you with this suitcase. I assume you’re staying here still.”
“Your mom said I shouldn’t move my things out. And I tried to call you, but—”
“Many times, I know.” He took her suitcase from her hands.
“You took the house off the market? I don’t see the sign anymore.”
“I paid it off. It’s mine free and clear now.”
She stepped forward. “Wow.”
They walked inside the house. He put her suitcase in the living room. “I’ve been back for about three weeks.”
“I know. My mom told me. She called me as soon as you came back.”
“Of course.”
She sat on the arm of the chair. “I missed you,” she said.
The guys walked back into the house. One picked up the coffee table. “Sorry,” he said as he stepped between them. The other picked up a large vase.
Eric moved out of the way. When they walked back out, he looked at Victoria. “I missed you, too. How did it go?”
“Great. I learned so much. The experience was fabulous.”
“Good. Then I’m glad you went.”
“Eric,” she began, but the furniture people returned.
&n
bsp; “Excuse us. Is that chair going?” He pointed to where she sat and checked his inventory list. “Yep, I’m supposed to take it back.”
“Oh, yes.” She stood so they could take the chair from under her.
Eric placed a hand on her elbow. “Let’s, ah, go outside.”
“Sure,” she said. “Don’t take anything on that table,” she told the furniture guy. “It belongs to a friend of mine.” She pointed to trinkets on an end table that she’d gotten from the boutique where she used to work.
“Just what’s on the list,” the guy agreed.
She let Eric lead her outside to the back patio. “Should I make us some mate or something?”
She looked as distracted as he felt. “Ah. No. Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean to get so bent out of shape at that Christmas party.” He plopped down on the patio chair, suddenly exhausted. At least this was not rented. It belonged to his mother. For tonight, he could keep it. “I guess I thought marriage proposals were supposed to be like they are in the movies.” He laughed. “You know, all romantic and happy.”
“They are.” She sat beside him. “I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
“My timing was all off.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t know you had this great opportunity with your company. If I’d known, maybe I would have waited.”
“I should have told you as soon as I found out.”
Noise from inside the house flowed out of the French doors. Men maneuvering furniture. Grunting, swearing.
“They better not bump our walls,” she said. Then her eyes flickered to him. “I mean your walls.”
He didn’t mind the slip at all, and in fact he hoped it was indicative of what she planned to do. “Have you spoken with your mom?”
“Not this week. I knew I was coming home and figured I’d see her. I came here first to see you.”
He told her the story of the beach house.
“Eric,” she said, full of awe and gratitude in her voice. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t believe you did that for my parents.”