“No catch. And no games,” she said. “We both want to be top dog here, and we’ll probably bounce back and forth in the number one spot. This doesn’t mean I won’t try to outsell you, but I don’t want to be at each other’s throats while we work.”
“I guess I can live with that.” He tapped a finger against his desk and pursed his lips. “Though it’s going to be weird.”
She laughed. “You’re telling me. But in this new spirit of cooperation, how about coming with me to speak to our client? Burker needs a talking-to.”
Standing, Tariq pulled his blue blazer off the back of his chair and shrugged it on. “I thought we weren’t meeting for another week, to give him time to make his decision.”
“So did I. But apparently he’s been telling his friends he’s selling, so I want him to tell us. Then we can set the official wheels into motion. All this secrecy has been counterproductive from the start.” She pulled her purse from under her desk and slung it across her shoulder.
“So, it was Burker who had the loose lips.”
Izzy grimaced and headed for the back door, with Tariq at her heels. “Yes. It wasn’t you. I was wrong.” Her phone buzzed with an incoming text, and she tugged it out and squinted at the screen.
He cupped a hand to his ear. “Say again?”
“You’re only getting that once, so I hope you enjoyed it.” Crossing the parking lot, she read the message from Mrs. Gianapolis, requesting another meeting. Interesting. Very interesting. The woman hadn’t responded to Izzy’s email apologizing for leaving in the middle of their meeting, and she’d thought she’d lost Mrs. Gianapolis as a lead. Apparently her rude departure hadn’t deterred the woman. That meant a strong interest.
She unlocked her doors, slid her phone in her pocket, and climbed behind the wheel.
Tariq got in next to her. “Where are we heading? His home?”
Izzy shuddered. “God no. The Arcadia Hills golf course. Bob is there every sunny day at this time.”
“How do you know that? He tell you?”
“Nope.” Izzy pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the golf course on the outskirts of Clarion Township. “I’ve seen him there.”
“You play golf?” Tariq couldn’t have sounded more surprised if she’d started doing a striptease in the front seat.
She pulled to a stop at a light and turned to give him a Cheshire grin. “How do you think I landed him as a client?” It was always good to have a hobby, especially one that brought a person into contact with the movers and shakers. “Play nice with me, and maybe I’ll show you how to swing a club.”
And if they both played it right with Bob, they could finally get this damned sale from the “potential” category into a confirmed listing. No more paranoid BS. No more half-truths to Brad. She and Brad could finally start moving forward. Making plans.
If someone had told Izzy a month ago that she would happily give up her time to help a man secure his business, she would have laughed him out of town. She’d thought she’d learned her lesson with her ex. But Brad had taught her some new lessons. That the financial situation didn’t make the man. His and Javier’s bank accounts might have some similarities, but their other qualities were as different as night and day.
Brad was someone she could depend on. He deserved her faith. And Izzy was done letting past betrayals stand in the way of her future happiness.
Chapter Sixteen
A tiny blue bird hopped beneath Izzy’s chair, looking for crumbs. He was going to be disappointed. Izzy took another bite of her black bean and quinoa burrito, licking at the dab of guacamole on her bottom lip. No part of this deliciousness was going to the birds.
She sat outside on the patio at Sarah’s Kitchen for a late lunch, with Vi and Jasmine lying at her feet wearing new, matching purple collars. The organic taqueria was only three blocks from her office and an indulgence Izzy caved to a couple times a month. She took another bite and bit back a moan. Any healthiness conferred by the whole-wheat tortilla was canceled out by the thick, rich homemade sour cream.
Her mother would flip her lid if she saw Izzy eating a burrito with quinoa. But it worked. And Izzy had earned the treat.
Yesterday, she and Tariq had convinced Bob to formally list his properties. He was going to let her know once he’d mailed letters informing his tenants.
She closed her eyes. She could finally tell Brad the bad news. He’d wanted to come over last night, after Ana had gone to bed, but she’d dug deep and found the willpower to refuse. She wanted Brad in her bed. A lot. But she had a feeling she was going to get even more satisfaction from the expression on his face when she presented him with the three rental options she’d found during her searches last night.
Well, that might be pushing it. But the work had needed to be done, and she hadn’t wanted to tell Brad he was losing his space until she’d found other options. It would be tight for him, the move, the new rent, but they would work out a plan together.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming text, and Izzy put her burrito down and wiped her hands on her napkin. She turned, angling her phone’s screen out of the sun. Another reminder text from Bernice.
“Come on,” she muttered, and texted back, again, that yes, she would be at the damn PTA meeting that afternoon. I haven’t forgotten since an hour ago when you texted me, she reminded Bernice.
The meeting starts in half an hour, Bernice texted. You need to be on time.
I’ll be there!!! Shoving her phone in her pocket, Izzy turned back to her plate. Her empty plate. “What the…?” She peered under the table. “Vi! You already ate lunch.” And Izzy had only had a couple of bites of her lovely burrito. Vi licked her lips and rolled onto her back.
Izzy gazed longingly back into the taqueria, but she couldn’t justify spending money on two lunches. “I’m not happy with you, Vi.”
The dog gave a soft belch, unrepentant.
Well, lunch was over. Time to get to the PTA meeting.
School had ended an hour ago, and the parking lot at Marion Johnson Elementary was nearly empty. But all the parking spots were in full sun. Even with the windows down, her car would get warm. She clipped a leash on Vi, scooped Jasmine up in her arms, and sailed into classroom 204, where the meeting was being held, with a good ten minutes to spare.
Seeing Bernice at a desk in the center of the classroom, Izzy angled her way but stopped when Vi tugged on her leash. She let Vi direct her to the side of the door, where the dog curled up as sentry.
“Okay, you can stay here, but be good.” No one had brought food, so the chances of Vi behaving were nearly assured. She got a couple of raised eyebrows from fellow PTA members, which she understood. But she wasn’t going to risk leaving her dogs in a hot car. And she’d left them home alone for half the day and didn’t want to risk more. Her carpets couldn’t take any more of Jasmine’s messes.
Holding the puppy close, Izzy skirted around huddles of people to take a seat next to Bernice. A couple of members of the board, along with a privileged few invited to join the inner circle, spoke in hushed whispers in one corner, their gazes darting over the commoners. Another corner held a group of five women and one man, their heads bent close. Everyone else milled about in sets of twos and threes.
“Hi.” Izzy smiled at Bernice. She wriggled her butt around, trying to get comfortable at the tiny desk. “I made it. Do you want to tell me what’s going on now?” Bernice had called in her marker, asking Izzy to come to this meeting, but her texts never said why.
“It will all become clear very soon.” Bernice nodded slowly at several women sitting around them, and they nodded back.
The skin on the back of Izzy’s neck prickled, and she clutched Jasmine tighter. She was surrounded by rebels.
Sandra clapped her hands. “Everyone, let’s get this meeting started.” She strode behind a podium set up on the teacher’s desk, and
shuffled through some papers. “As you should all know, I’m Sandra Harker, the president of the PTA. This is our annual business meeting, and I want to thank you all for coming to participate in the elections for next year’s board.”
The rebel plan became clearer. Izzy hadn’t realized this was the annual election meeting, and Bernice must want her vote.
A volunteer walked down the center aisle of the classroom. She stopped at each row of desks and handed the person seated at the end a stack of papers. That person took one paper and passed the stack to their neighbor.
“This meeting is a bit smaller than usual,” Sandra continued. “A group of our dedicated board members and other active volunteers have taken on the job of helping out with the firemen’s charity picnic. Lucky girls, right?”
Sandra’s smirk faltered as a high-pitched whistling sound broke the air. Everyone turned and looked at Vi. She twitched her eyebrows and buried her nose under a paw.
Sandra cleared her throat, her mouth tight. “As I was saying, we have a smaller group here than usual, but we still have enough for a quorum for the election.”
A mother glanced back at Bernice and slowly winked.
Oh yeah. Shit was going down. Izzy wriggled in her seat and leaned forward. She put Jasmine down on the desk and snatched a sheet of paper from Bernice before handing the remaining stack to the woman on her right. She scanned the list of candidates and pushed out her bottom lip. It contained the usual suspects, the harpies who currently ran the show. She glanced at Bernice. It was hard to launch an electoral coup if contenders weren’t even listed on the ballot.
“Now, as there aren’t any contested positions, it will be a straight up-or-down vote on each candidate.” Sandra held up a copy of the ballot. “Their—”
Pffffffffffft.
The woman closest to the door, and Vi, flapped her hand in front of her face. “Gross.”
Izzy stared at the ceiling. Quinoa and black beans didn’t seem to agree with her dog.
Sandra’s shoulders inched up toward her ears. “As I was saying, each candidate’s statement is listed below her nam—”
Bernice stood. “Excuse me, but I have a point of order.”
Sandra slapped the piece of paper on the podium and gripped its edges. “Yes, what is it?”
Pffft.
Sandra swallowed, and her knuckles went white.
Guacamole probably wasn’t great for the dog’s digestion either.
“We were never given notice in writing of the candidates running for office.” Bernice pushed up the cuff of her sleeve.
Sandra rested her hands on her hips, her right index finger tapping against her skirt. “Yes, you were. We sent out an email last month with the list of candidates, asking if anyone else was interested in running.”
“Do the bylaws allow for that notice to be sent electronically?” Eyes wide, Bernice tilted her head. “No, I don’t believe they do.”
Izzy bit the inside of her cheek and wished she had a box of Junior Mints to go along with the show. This was better than any Shonda Rhimes drama.
Vi let loose another fart, and someone tittered in the front row.
“In fact,” Bernice said, ignoring the interruption, “I have copies of the bylaws for everyone here.” She pulled a stack of papers out of a folder on her desk. “Paragraph 8.3 states that notice of the candidates running for annual election must be mailed, by the US Post Office, to the members a month before the election.”
“We switched to email in order to save paper.” Sandra pressed her palms on the podium. “We met the spirit of the bylaws.”
Bernice turned to the one man in the room. “Ted here is a paralegal. Let’s ask him. Does meeting the spirit of the law fulfill its stated provisions?”
“No, it doesn’t.” He fanned his ballot in front of his nose. “A technical violation is still a violation, subject to the stated remedy.”
“I’m glad you brought that up.” Bernice turned a page of the bylaws. “The remedy called for in such a case is an opening up of the ballot to anyone who decides to run at the election meeting. Is there anyone here who’d like to throw his or her hat in the race?” she asked sweetly.
The stink hit Izzy, and she waved her ballot in front of her face along with everyone else. Maybe she should open a window…?
Ted stood, along with two other women. Leaning over, Bernice grabbed Izzy’s elbow and tugged. “Get up. You’re running, too.”
Izzy glanced away from the windows, trying to figure out what was happening. “Wait. What?” She stumbled to her feet. “I can’t run for anything,” she muttered to Bernice.
“You’re running. You promised.”
Izzy opened her mouth to argue. She’d promised to support the coup, and in Izzy’s mind that meant a vote. Not running herself. But any objections she had were better, and more vehemently, expressed by Sandra.
“You can’t just nominate yourselves.” She jerked her chin at Izzy. “And she doesn’t even have time to bake cupcakes, much less take on a leadership role.”
For once, Izzy was in full agreement with the woman.
“We can nominate ourselves, and we are.” Bernice pointed at the paralegal. “Ted is running for treasurer, Mindy for secretary, Kirsten for vice president of programs, Izzy for VP of communications, and I’m running for president.”
Sandra’s eyes were so narrow, it was a wonder she could see out of them. “You want to be president. The president has to have some knowledge of all the roles of the PTA.”
Pffft.
“The president needs to have board experience,” Sandra said.
Pfffffft.
Izzy glanced back at Vi. The dog had tucked herself as close to the wall as possible.
“I was on the board five years ago,” Bernice said.
“Be that as it may, the president—”
Pfffffffffffffffffft.
“Jesus Christ!” Sandra threw down her ballot and glared at Izzy. “What the hell are you feeding that dog?”
Vi buried her head under her paws, the poster child for doggy humiliation. “She only eats organic,” Izzy said haughtily. She tapped her thigh. “Come here, baby girl. Come sit by me.”
Vi heaved herself to her paws, and, head low, crept toward Izzy. A small poot escaped out of her rear end with each step. Only Vi’s tucked tail kept Izzy from laughing. She didn’t want to embarrass her pup any more than she already was, but a smelly dog was just what some of these snooty broads needed.
Her dog curled up, her head under Izzy’s legs, and Izzy stroked her side.
“Okay.” Bernice rubbed her hands together. “Now what do you say we hold these elections?”
Even though she was annoyed at being roped into a leadership position, Izzy had to admire the pure cunning of the coup. With the in-crowd away ogling firemen, Bernice had stacked the ranks with her own voters.
It was tight, but Bernice must have known the count ahead of time, for she never lost her smug smile. When the votes were tallied and announced, a cheer went up.
Sandra looked like she was grinding her teeth into dust. “Well. It looks like next school year there will be a new board. I wish you all the best of luck,” she said, sounding anything but congratulatory.
Izzy puffed out her cheeks and released her breath with a long hiss. What the heck were the responsibilities of a VP of communications? And how would she find the time? The meeting went on, but Izzy tuned out most of the chatter. She wasn’t interested in how much the bake sale had raised or the problem of getting the appropriate transportation for the field trip. Looking at the walls of the classroom, she saw a painting she recognized, one Ana had done of Vi and Jasmine.
Izzy smiled. Brad had tried to help Ana with that one but had ended up with more paint on his arms than on the paper. But she could still hear Ana’s peals of laughter. And what had Iz
zy been doing while those two had been having fun? Sitting at the kitchen table working and sneaking envious glances over her shoulder at the two.
She examined the other walls. She saw two more paintings with Ana’s distinctive “A” swirled in the bottom right corner but didn’t remember when her daughter had painted them. Had it been at home with Izzy too busy to notice? Or had she painted them at school?
Her chest grew tight, her breaths choppy. Removing her sleeve from Jasmine’s jaw, she rolled the puppy onto his back and rubbed his belly. She was missing large chunks of Ana’s childhood. Pieces she could never get back. Memories that money couldn’t buy. It was such a balancing act, being a parent. She knew how to walk the line when it came to preparing for Ana’s financial needs; but her steps became a bit wobbly when it came to Ana’s emotional ones.
She was letting her daughter down, and the thought was crushing.
“Izzy.” Bernice waved a hand in front of her face. “Earth to Izzy. Come in.”
She blinked. The PTA members were out of their seats, some mingling over their victory, the current board hightailing it out of there, backs rigid with anger. “It’s over?”
“Yup.” A broad grin stretched the new president’s face. She tipped her head to the side, and her chocolate brown curls bounced against her shoulder. “And we won. It’s a new day. No more insults or disrespect if a parent can’t help out. No more public shaming.”
“A kinder, gentler PTA?”
“You know it.”
Izzy pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder and stood. Vi climbed to her feet next to her. “Except for springing a VP of communications on a poor, unsuspecting mother. That was a bit of a strong-arm tactic.”
Bernice shrugged. “Except for that. Besides, I was just calling in my favor.”
“Those were some damn expensive lemon bars.” But Izzy couldn’t complain too much. Maybe getting forced into a more active role wasn’t such a bad thing. She needed to do a better job of being involved in Ana’s childhood, and this was a good first step. Picking up Jasmine, Izzy strode for the door.
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