by Sara Hubbard
Jason flashes that wounded deer look and I feel a spasm of guilt, but then I quickly remember why he deserves for me to kick him out, and in fact, he deserves much, much more.
“Right. I should be going.” He stands and nods to Amy who flashes him her middle finger. I scowl at her and shake my head.
“Always a pleasure, Amy,” Jason says as he ducks his head and heads to the door.
I follow after him and catch him at the door.
“Thanks for the chat,” he says as he buttons up his coat.
“Sure.”
“Can I call you? Just to talk.”
I sigh and dig my hands in my pockets. A phone call? What could it hurt? “Yeah. If you want.”
“Goodbye, Molly.”
“Bye, Jase.”
My heart cracks a little when he closes the door behind him. Why do I still love him when I don’t want to? Am I one of those sadist women who love cruel and unusual punishment? Or maybe I’m overreacting. It was only a kiss….on my wedding day. Nope. Not overreacting at all.
“What. The. Fuck?" Molly says.
I spin around. “Please don’t.”
“Are you getting back with him?” She points to the door.
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Do I need to remind you—”
“Nope! I’m very aware of what he did.” I throw my hands up the air. “Please. Can we talk about something else? I don’t want to fight. Let’s talk about the auction.”
***
It seems everyone is in the office when I arrive the next day. Sophie is chatting with a young couple and they’re very pregnant. The woman rubs her belly and smiles sincerely, like she’s never been happier. The light streaming in through the window catches the diamond in her engagement ring and makes it sparkle. Engaged, pregnant and house hunting.
Awesome.
I slap my tote bag down on my desk and plop into my chair. My phone flashes red: three unheard messages. One is from Amy. "Call me." One from Dina: "Yes. This is Dina Sloan. Sawyer contacted me and requested to view additional properties today. I trust this won't be an issue for you. He is keen to purchase sooner rather than later."
I bet he is. I roll my eyes at the message. He told me yesterday he wasn’t free and now he wants me to drop everything because he found some free time? Does he think I don't have anything better to do, that I don't have other things on my schedule? Well, I don't, but that's hardly the point.
The final call is from my dad: “Hi, kiddo. I just wanted to call and check on you. Your mother and I kind of ambushed you the other night and I never got the chance to say that we only want what’s best for you. And whatever you decide, your mom and I will support you. Well, I’ll convince your mother to support you.” He half chuckles into the phone, making me sigh. Finally, he says exactly what I need to hear, and I feel a slight weight lift from my shoulders. “I thought maybe we could meet up for lunch next week if you’re not too busy,” my dad continues. “Give me a call.”
I want to see my dad. He means well, more so than my mom, but I know part of him has an agenda and I don’t need even a smidge of guilt right now.
The only person I call back is the only person I don't particularly like. And he doesn't pick up the phone. Surprise, surprise. I continue working in the office and go through a number of houses, compiling another list of a six places I think Sawyer might like. Just before I'm about to leave for the day, the phone rings.
"Discover Realty, Molly Newton."
"Did anyone ever tell you how sexy your voice sounds on the phone?"
I scowl at the phone. "Hello, Sawyer. Thanks for getting back to me. I've made up a list of some more houses to view. Are you available tomorrow?"
"I'm available now.”
Good for you.
“I thought Dina had called you?”
His arrogance irritates me to no end. No doubt some girls find him charming, but it give me hives. “She left a message without checking with me first,” I say quickly. “And I’m leaving for the day.”
We fall into awkward silence and it stuns me that he doesn't have a comeback. I’m waiting for him to push me, since he seems to know how much I need his business.
"My schedule is full the next two days. I was hoping to find something this week." His voice takes on a sharp edge. I close my eyes and take a breath. Would I talk this way to another client? Absolutely not. I close my eyes and take a breath to check myself. This is what happens when you sleep with a client. Though in my defense, I slept with him first.
"It’s too late in the day to organize anything, Sawyer. I have to clear it with the homeowners' agents first. They may not get back to me for hours. What about Friday?”
"Yeah. I can do Friday." He pauses and I can hear him breathing into the phone. "Thanks."
"Um…" His sudden appreciation takes me off guard. "You're welcome."
Friday I cruise down the freeway with my windows open, blaring Royals by Lorde. It’s a beautiful fall day. The few trees in the city are colored red and yellow, while others are already naked. It’s unseasonably warm, like t-shirt weather. I have to pick Sawyer up in front of his hotel before ten AM because he has practice all afternoon. He only just managed to squeeze me into his schedule this morning.
Today I’m taking him to a house that has only recently come on the market. He said he wanted a home, and I’m going to give him what he wants—hopefully. Not my definition of a home, but his, and all for the rather large sum of $750,000. Just thinking about the price gives me hives. Like I could ever afford a place like this on my salary.
I pull up in front of the hotel at nine fifty-five. Five minutes to spare. The valet eyes my car with a squished up face before offering to park it for me, but I tell him I’ll just wait for Sawyer at the end of the building, away from the main entrance. Can’t people see how much of a classic my Saturn is?
I glance at my watch every few minutes. A seagull craps on my windshield and when I get out to shoo it away, it ends up crapping on my shoulder with an ungodly splat.
“You’re frigging kidding me!” I scream. Okay, I throw a tantrum which includes some feet stomping. When I pull my jacket off and spin around to face my car, I see Sawyer sauntering toward me with a smile on his face.
“In some cultures, that’s considered good luck.”
“Really? Maybe I should stay here and beg for some more then, because good luck and I are strangers.”
He laughs out loud, and climbs into my car. I throw my jacket into the back, careful to ensure the bird poop doesn’t touch my seat. It doesn’t smell, so that’s something to be thankful for, I suppose.
“You’re a complete fucking mess.” He laughs.
“Excuse me, pot, aren’t you a fine shade of black?” I assume he means I’m a mess in general, and not just that I got shit on by a stupid bird.
He attempts to straighten his lips but when it’s clear he can’t lose the smile, he resorts to looking out his window. I can hear him still laughing at me. Asshole.
“Where to today?” he asks.
“I know you had a list, but there’s another house that just came on the market, one that I think is in line with your tastes, given the list you gave me.”
“Oh yeah. Where is it?”
“Ravencourt.” A neighborhood Jason and I always dreamed about living in, but couldn’t have afforded until he took over our dads’ firm. I take a deep breath to work through the ache in my chest.
He scowls at me. “They’re all old homes out there. With old neighbors. I don’t need nosy old people watching me through their windows.”
“So don’t do stuff that your neighbors will raise their eyes at. It’s pretty simple logic, isn’t it?”
He looks at me from beneath raised eyebrows.
“Look. This house is amazing. It’s nothing at all like the other houses in the neighborhood. Cross my heart.” I mime drawing a crucifix across my chest.
“Uh huh.” He looks skeptical, but I’m on a miss
ion to prove him wrong.
I can’t help but beam at him as I nod.
Sawyer was right about Ravencourt, all old house and equally old neighbors, but the house I’m showing him is new, and it sticks out like a sore thumb. I want him to love it, just to prove that I can give a client what they want. But part of me worries.
“There’s no fence. No security,” he says with a sigh.
I sigh and wave to the perimeter of bushes that surround the house as we roll into the driveway.
“Not a fence,” he says.
“Close enough. Jeez Louise. Give it a chance, will ya?”
He tosses his hands in the air. “Okay. Amaze me.”
The house is new age and the moment he sees it, he tips his head to the side to scrutinize it. He’s surprised and it gets me excited. He doesn’t hate it—at least not yet, or maybe not at all. The walls are thin rows of rectangular stone. The windows are long and thin and he hasn’t seen it yet, but there is a complete row of windows on the back of the house that overlooks the lake.
I nudge his elbow with mine before approaching the house. After it’s unlocked, I open the door and wave him in.
“Ladies first.”
I laugh. “Oh, no. Client always goes first.”
“Is that like some real estate agent rule or something?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Inside, the house is all white with skylights and you can see all the way to the back of the house, to the windows. His mouth drops a fraction, but then he closes it tight and keeps his poker face. A long wooden staircase with a metal handrail leads up to the second floor on the right hand side of the house.
He heads to the kitchen first, running his hand along the granite countertop.
“Stainless steel appliances,” I begin. “A chef’s stove, a butcher-block island, and the cabinets are custom. Plus you have this beautiful view of the lake.”
“The kitchen isn’t bad.” Sawyer leans against the large built in sink and folds his arms across his chest.
“Isn’t bad? I want to make love to it!”
He raises his eyebrows and quirks a smile that makes my cheeks burn.
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
I continue through the house with Sawyer tagging along behind me, occasionally checking his phone. I completely missed the mark on this house, I guess, and the thought upsets me. I really tried today to give him what he wanted and I failed.
“I hate to interrupt you but I’ve got to get to the gym,” he says as we walk through the massive ensuite. There’s a Jacuzzi tub, duo sinks, and an amazing shower with a stone backsplash.
I glance at my watch. I’ve managed to spend almost an hour in the house.
“You hated it,” I say when we get back in the car.
“It wasn’t bad.”
“Right.”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. It was a good effort.”
Good effort. He talks to me as if he’s my instructor. I’m the professional here and he’s the client. And I get the feeling he likes it more than he lets on, leaving me wondering what his game is.
“Fine. We’ll stick to the list. But I’ll have to get personal again if I’m going to find something you love.”
He groans. “Shoot.”
“What was the first house you bought like?”
He shakes his head, clearly bemused. “A bachelor apartment in Southgate. I could barely afford the apartment, just had the odd fight at the time, and I was a nobody, so I barely made enough to make my bills.”
“There are tons of places in Southgate. Why did you pick that one?”
He shrugs, his eyes looking faraway. It surprises me how much I want to know what he’s thinking. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. And yet…not at all like I imagined him. If it wasn’t for his appearance and the fact that I know he’s a boxer, I’d never have pegged him as one. He’s thoughtful, quiet. He looks like a guy that’s seen way too much.
Then out of nowhere, he chuckles. “It was above a pizza place and they gave me leftovers before they closed.”
“Pizza?” I say, unable to keep the disbelief from my voice. “That’s why you chose it?”
“Nah. I mean, kind of. But I could smell the pizza in my apartment, the baking dough and cheese and sauce. I mean, who doesn’t like pizza?”
I’m sure he’s fucking with me. “Uh huh.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. It was a small space. A couple of small windows. It fit its purpose. That was all I needed back then.”
“And now?”
“Are we still talking about houses?”
He takes a step toward me, his intense gaze focuses on my lips before trailing up to my eyes. I gulp and turn away. When I’m at a safe distance, I turn back to face him.
“I got nothing,” he says. “No one. I just need a house that’s comfortable, with a room for my gym equipment. And a fenced yard.”
“For privacy?” I guess.
He shrugs. “Maybe a dog.”
A dog. I make a cute face but stop myself from oohing and awwing. For the first time, I see him blush.
“What?” he throws his hands up. “We moved around a lot as a kid. I never had a pet.”
I hold back a smile. “A dog. That’s great. Really."
He chuckles. “Yeah, well. Do you have pets?”
“I do. Rodney. He’s a beagle and he loves to bark. My mother hates him but my grandmother bought him for my sister and me when we were in high school and Dad wouldn’t let her get rid of him. But I have to give Mom credit—she didn’t get rid of Rodney even after my sister and I moved out.”
“Well, she can’t be that bad then, can she?”
“You don’t know her.”
“I don’t know. She can’t be that bad. You’re half her.”
What did he just say? I furrow my brow at him as he walks from the room and out of the house, leaving me once again bewildered. He says these things from time to time that completely take me off guard. And it almost seems as if he might have feelings for me, but that’s impossible. I'm still trying to figure out my mess with Jason. Jason was safe, and look what he did—what would a guy like Sawyer do to me? No. I can’t think about that. It will never happen. Never.
Eleven
“TELL ME AGAIN why I agreed to go to this?”
The auction is tonight and I slump onto Amy’s bed while she puts on her makeup. She looks stunning, dressed in black stilettos and a fire engine red dress that dips dangerously low in the back. Her hair is in curls that cascade down her spine. And to top off her hotness, she’s wearing black gloves that stretch up to her elbows.
I pick at my dress, overwhelmed. I’d been with Jason forever and after a few years; I kind of gave up impressing him. I’d grown so comfortable with him that other than the suits I wore to work, I pretty much lived in jeans and a t-shirt. Wearing a formal dress—and a racy one at that—I feel like a poser. Like at any minute someone at the party might scream at me that I don’t belong.
Amy turns, holding her mascara wand. “You agreed to come because you’re an awesome friend who wouldn’t want to leave me hanging.” She spins back around, her hair fanning out around her shoulders.
I sigh.
“You’re coming,” she says in her no nonsense tone.
If I don’t come willingly, she’ll just drag me there. “Of course. I said I would.”
I pick a piece of string off her comforter and let it drop from my fingers onto the floor. “You never did tell me what happened to Charlie. I haven’t seen him around lately.”
“Oh.” She puts the wand back into her mascara tube and fluffs her hair before turning and taking a seat on the bed beside me. “He wanted to date me exclusively.”
“What? I thought you’d only gone on a few dates with him.”
“I had. Or ten. Who’s counting?” She shrugs before standing and picks out a purse from her walk-in closet. “What do you think, black or silver?”
I shake my hea
d at her. “Oh no, you don’t. Ten dates? Where have I been?”
“Look, you’ve been through a lot lately and you're understandably preoccupied. My time with him was nothing.”
The way she glances away when she says ‘nothing’, like she can’t look me straight in the eyes, says otherwise. “Amy. What are you doing?”
“Don’t.” She puts her hands up. “Sure, I like him, but I am way too focused on my career right now to start something serious.”
“But you like him.”
“Is there an echo in here?”
I groan. “I just want to make sure you're not shutting someone out for other reasons.” Namely her cheating, deadbeat father. He’s forever had a presence in all of Amy’s relationships. I can’t remember the last time Amy’s had a real relationship, other than sex. In fact, I don’t recall her ever having one. It makes me worry for her. Yet I can relate. Sure, getting your heart broken is awful, but I also don’t want her to miss out on something great. She deserves something great.
“Stand up. I want to take a look at you,” she says.
“Uh. Please don’t.”
I stand and she pushes me over to the mirror above her dresser. She stands behind me with her hands on my shoulders. “You look amazing, Molly.”
With rounded shoulders, I rub my arms and glance away. I’m wearing one of Amy’s dresses, a black floor-length number with a swooping neckline that dips between my breasts, and I have ample cleavage. I’m not used to showing it off and it makes me feel insecure.
“If you got ‘em, flaunt ‘em,” she says, immediately recognizing my insecurity.
I don’t look awful, but I can’t help but think people will stare at me for all the wrong reasons. My curly hair is tame, and smoothed into loose curls that sweep off my neck in an up-do. I have lost weight and for once I’m happy with the size of my hips and waist.
“You’re gorgeous. Stop doubting yourself. Jason was an idiot for ever letting you go.”
Is he still an idiot now he’s trying to get me back? But I don’t say that. I want to start this night out on a good note and I don’t need Amy bashing Jason to kick it off.
I force a smile and she hugs me from behind. “Thanks, friend.”