Dirty Little Murder (24 page)

“I’ve quoted you the lease terms at least three times, Alonzo. You know what it will take to get into my office space.” Mitzy sat on the edge of her desk chair. She had to stay calm.

“Let’s be realistic, Neuhaus. I want to own the whole building, and you know it. I’ll say a number right now that you can’t refuse. Then you can take your little office friends back to the suburbs.”

“It’s not for sale.” Mitzy spit the words out. Who was this man to call her business ‘little office friends’? She knew without a doubt that her bottom line was better than his.

“Everything is for sale.”

Mitzy took a deep breath. “My tenants need security right now. I am not going to make a move that would threaten their businesses.”

“Who’s talking about threats? I’m talking money, and a lot of it.”

“That’s enough. We’ve had this same conversation three times. I’m not selling. You don’t have enough money to tempt me to put my tenants out on the street.”

“You’re location is perfect for me. Access to building supplies. Access to transportation. Your little street-front shops might have to move, but new tenants would move in and that would be good too. There’s no end of space for little music shops and crafty places.” Alonzo’s voice was suave but it set Mitzy’s teeth on edge.

“If you need office space you can have the whole top floor. It’s yours. You know my lease terms are fair.” Mitzy closed her eyes and prayed for patience. It was his tone that really had her. He talked to her like she was a child.

“Maybe if you’d
sell
me the top.”

“It’s not for sale. I own this building and that won’t change.”

“I’m not in a rush, Mitzy. We’ll talk about this again.”

Mitzy pinched her mouth shut.

“Now, don’t be upset. Just think of all the shoes you could buy when you sell out to me.”

Mitzy stood up. “Thank you for your interest in my property. I’m pleased to know that I have something of value. If you are interested in a lease, feel free to call again.”

Alonzo was silent for a moment. “Oh, we’ll talk.”

Mitzy didn’t want to be the first to hang up. She waited a half a second longer. “Would you like me to let you know if I hear of a similar property for sale?”

Alonzo laughed. “You’d be my buyer’s agent?”

“We could work something like that out.” Mitzy licked her lips. Was he coming around?

“Oh, darlin’, I have friends in real estate with licenses older than you. Now, don’t get all bent out of shape. My offer is solid. Lots of money. I’ll call back later and I think you’ll be glad I did.” He hung up.

Bent out of shape! Mitzy stomped around the room, from corner to corner. Bent out of shape! Every month for the last three months he had called her and gotten the same answer. Of course she was bent out of shape. Her building was Not. For.
Sale
.

Alonzo thought Mitzy and her building had a lot in common, they both weren’t as young as they used to be, and were highly overrated.

Unfortunately for Alonzo, he believed that Mitzy’s building was the exact size, location, and opportunity that he needed right now.

Alonzo knew Mitzy was a successful Realtor. Twenty prime location billboards and a regular radio feature don’t lie. When he realized the housing bubble had burst, he had hoped Mitzy needed to liquidate so he could buy the building he’d had his eye on for so long.

Unfortunately for him, it appeared that she had resources to carry her through the storm.

Buying one story would have worked, he supposed, if she hadn’t been so cocky about it. She wouldn’t even listen to his offer!

The property was all wrong for her business, and just right for his. If she had been willing to listen, she would have heard an offer she couldn’t refuse.

He stared at his phone. His head had begun to pound. He knit his eyebrows together. What was wrong with that woman, and why would she not sell him her stupid office building?

Mitzy had no time for vain or condescending men. It was an insult to be asked to sell her building, even part of it.

Would he have tried that with the Moyer family, who owned a stretch of Downtown Portland? She thought not.

She may only own one commercial property, but it was hers and hers alone and she was keeping it.

She stared out the back window. It might not be the best location for Tabby’s ceramic studio, but backing to the stoneworks plant and the lumber mill was priceless to her as a home renovator and probably the only reason Alonzo Miramontes was speaking to her.

She sighed. It would be different if Alonzo had treated her like a professional peer. She knew of one other building on her block that would have suited him, but only she knew how tight the owner’s situation was.

If Alonzo Miramontes had been decent to her, he could have benefited from her knowledge.

But not now.

She opened the door to the main office, careful to project a confident,
unrattled
appearance. There was no need to let her employees know how much that man could unsettle her.

“It’s a bit too quiet here this morning. Let’s start working on the suite upstairs. Apparently some people will believe this building is for sale until I get a tenant in it,” Mitzy said, abandoning her television career for the moment.

Joan picked up her sketch pad, a twinkle in her eye.

Ben opened his AutoCAD program.

Sabrina opened her Word file.

“Is there room in the foyer to add an elevator shaft?” Mitzy asked Ben.

“I don’t have a blueprint here, but if you don’t mind losing a lot of your entry space on the first floor I think there is room.”

“That’s what I thought, and I am pretty sure, though I don’t specialize in commercial real estate,” there was a snide tone in her voice, “that we would have to put one in if we did any major upgrades.”

Sabrina took notes in her own computer short hand. She kept typing as she spoke. “I can get the requirements and code today.”

“Perfect. I don’t want to lease the entire upstairs to one company. It makes more sense to create two large spaces or one large, one medium, and one small. Joan, have you ever thought of having an office outside of your home? It sure would be nice for us to have you close at hand.”

Joan narrowed her eyes and smiled. “I have thought of it. But there hasn’t been anything available in this area. Right now my van is my office when you get right down to it.”

“I can rent this space as quickly as we can have it ready, however, I’d like to let you have one of the suites.” Mitzy templed her fingers. “You know what would be cool? If you were the Neuhaus stager. We could make you a more permanent part of the team.”

“I do have some thoughts on that.” Joan chewed her bottom lip. “One reason I’d like to have an office space would be so I could interview potential clients outside of Neuhaus work, especially right now while things are slow. Why don’t I draw up a proposal and we can talk about it?”

Mitzy knew that Joan, being an artist, had no great desire to draw up proposals, but she appreciated the professional approach Joan was taking. “Sounds good. Have it ready by tomorrow, lunch. I’ll bring some ideas on how we could arrange it as well.”

“I think, excepting the elevator, the renovation could be finished by the end of the month.” Mitzy turned to her graphics guy. “Ben, I’d like you to get started on the advertising. Make sure to emphasize the multi-use location, perfect for builders and
remodelors
, perfect for professionals, etc. You know what I want.”

Ben smiled at his computer, he knew. She wanted it perfect and with a lot of purple. And with the name Neuhaus on it about a million times. Her methods worked, even if they weren’t the sophisticated Wall Street look he had preferred at Uni. “Can do.”

“Sabrina, first, get the proposal for
First Things
, put together. Email it to me by end of day. Make the permits second priority. We have the rest of the week to work on them.” Mitzy sat down at her desk, slipped on her reading glasses and opened her email. It would take a good hour to get through her correspondence, but communicating with clients and fans was something she never passed off to her assistant.

The phone rang again. They all jumped this time.

“Pathetic,” Ben said.

In their office the phones used to ring more than they were silent. In fact, they had more phone lines than people. Managing the phones was a point of pride for Sabrina. No one could handle eight callers at once like her.

“Good afternoon, Neuhaus New Homes, this is Sabrina speaking. How can I help you? Oh, I see, Just a moment.” She put the caller on hold. “Mitzy, it’s the renter at your
Baltimore Street
house.”

Mitzy nodded and picked up her extension. “This is Mitzy, how are things, Deb? Umm hmm…yes. Really?” Mitzy’s voice rose with excitement. “That’s terrific, thanks. No, I think I’ll get over there right away. Thanks for calling. Talk to you soon.”

All eyes were on Mitzy. It had been a while since a promising call came in.

“Well?” Sabrina said.

“The Victorian is going into foreclosure!” Mitzy’s big blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“The
Baltimore
Victorian?” Joan asked.

“Deb said movers were there last night, late. This morning all of the cars were gone and the house was dark.”

“No kidding? We’ve wanted that house for ages.” Joan and Mitzy had longed for the old house on
Baltimore Street
. The perfect bones of a Queen Anne Victorian mansion were like chocolate to Joan—irresistible. The investment potential of that property was almost too much for Mitzy.

Mitzy dreamed of restoring it to its historic glory and selling it to someone with old money. There was always a market for the historically minded, since the best locations were so rarely for sale.

It was a great investment for Mitzy personally as well. The street was zoned commercial/residential. The big Victorian would make as great an office building as it would a home. But an office would not protect the value of Mitzy’s other
Baltimore Street
property. A restored vintage mansion, preferably on the historic register, would protect her property values nicely.

“I knew this market had to be good for somebody,” Ben moaned. Rehabbing an old house didn’t involve him until the very end.

“Pause the proposal, Sabrina. We need to take a trip to
Baltimore Street
.”