Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (8 page)

I found so many houses I could probably show just his fiancée or just him, but the two together make this impossible. Between Kellan and Janice Foley’s money pit, I’m at a loss. I don’t think I can feel more incompetent than I do right now.

“I’ll keep looking. I’m sure somewhere we’ll find a mix of what you two want. It’s all about compromise, right?”

“Yes!” His coffee spills onto the table a little. I grab a napkin at the same time he does and our hands meet at the spill. “Thanks, Kate. I appreciate everything.”

I’m staring into his beautiful eyes as I wipe up the mess. Our hands touch for a moment and for that brief second my insides heat up. “I do the best I can.”

A pile of napkins sit in front of him. He bunches them up and moves them aside. “If it means anything, I think you’re doing great.”

He has no idea exactly how much those words
do
mean to me.

Today is Janice’s open house and I’m trying to hold together any hope of selling this place. The house is so ridiculous. When I spoke with Janice about today, I got the impression she wasn’t planning on doing much to liven place up. I was right. What a waste of my time! She had a company come in and take almost all the furniture to the dump — furniture that should have been salvaged for showings.
 
If she took the time to clean out the couch and recliner, why not pay cleaners as well? No. Leave me with the dirty work. Thank you, Janice. I wiped down every piece of wood with Lysol and took a rag to each wall. Two hours later I can finally put the sign outside.
 

The house is barely what I consider presentable when the event begins. I light a few candles and put them on the kitchen counter and spray air freshener in the bathroom. Good enough, I guess. I’ll be shocked if any offers come from this, but she can afford a sale to take awhile. The mortgage is free and clear so any deal is one-hundred percent profit. People may come in out of curiosity and then I can sell the dream house to them, tell them how they can make it their own. The house is in a sought after neighborhood. I hope that’s enough.

Anticipating a slow showing, I tossed my Kindle in my purse. Now is the perfect time to catch up on all the books I’ve purchased but never read. Life at the bed and breakfast didn’t allow me much time for leisurely reading, and some of my favorite authors released novels in the past year I’m anxious to read. I don’t expect one person to stop by, so I might as well take advantage.

Today isn’t only hot — it’s sticky. The combination causes my skirt to stick to the folding chair my butt has the blessing to enjoy the next two hours. The house lacks central air, yet another downside and a poor selling point. I set up fans throughout the house, but I’m only circulating the heat all over. The back of my neck is wet and I swear I can smell my hair.

I brush off my irritation and turn on my e-reader. I’ll sweat out the next two hours and burn some calories. Best case scenario — I finish reading this book.

I’m halfway through chapter five of Sophie Kinsella’s latest when the front door opens. I glance at my phone. Forty-two minutes. I guess that’s not too bad for the first house hunter.

It’s not a prospective client at all. “Gretchen! What are you doing here? And where’s Mona?” I slide my Kindle into my purse, giddy to welcome company.

“She requires a long nap today and is refusing to go down. Clark has thicker skin so he told me to take some time to myself and he would deal with it. He’s tough as nails, like Superman.”

Gretchen is lucky Clark makes such offers. What an awesome guy to handle a crabby baby and not expect his wife to do it.
 

“I ran out of there like the Flash. Don’t misunderstand me — Clark does his part every day, but my ears can’t take it anymore.” She covers her ears with her hands and drops them. “So, anything exciting here?”

“You can’t see the dozens of people here?” I scout out the room, pointing in every direction.

She twists her lips and her nose cringes. “That bad, huh?”

“That bad.” I don’t want to complain, though. She left the house to get away from whining. “How did you find me?”

“I spoke with Kellan this morning. He told me you had a showing today.”

So he talks about me when I’m not around? This lifts my heart. I love that he remembered about the open house as well. He’s listening when I talk to him. Always a plus. “Want to sit down?” I don’t have a comfortable seat to offer her, so I give up mine.
 

“Thanks.” She crosses her legs and leans forward, bouncing in the chair. “I’m not used to sitting without a baby on my lap.”

“What do you think of the house?” Even though she’s not one of my prospective buyers, not by a long shot, I value her opinion.

Her silence speaks volumes and as she nods, it’s obvious she’s doing what she can to come up with something positive. “Well…”

“You can say it.” I close my eyes and fan myself. “I can handle whatever you say.”

“Wretched. Horrible.”

I open my eyes and mirror her smile. “It really is.”

“But,” she stands up and moves about five feet from me. “Put in some hardwood floors, paint the walls a soft green, add a throw rug and dark furniture, you’ve got yourself a gorgeous living room.”

“There! That!” I snap my fingers. “You’re the buyer I need. Someone to focus on how to transform the space. Do you and Clark want to buy a new house?”

“No, but nice try.”

I shrug. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“What’s she asking, anyway?”

I’m embarrassed to share the price. Instead, I hand her a flyer and point to the number.

“What?” She whips the paper back at me. “That’s ridiculous!”

This is the reaction I expect from most people and the exact reason I fear this place will be damn near impossible to sell. “I’ll try this her way until she realizes she’s out of her mind.” Or I decide I quit because I can’t deal with her unreasonableness. Whichever comes first.

Gretchen checks the place out and offers no further suggestions how to improve on it. I manage to find a wooden box I can use as a chair.
 

“Great game on Friday.” She gives me a thumbs up sign.

“I wish I bowled better.” Overall I did fine, but I can’t stop thinking about my gutter ball.
Not
the impression I wanted to make.

“You did awesome!” She looks at me and we both start laughing. “Okay, except for that first frame. Otherwise, you did great.”

“Thanks. You, too. I can’t wait for the next game.”

“Me neither, but the one after that is the one that’s making me nervous. We play Lucy’s Lucky Strikes. I used to go to high school with one of the girls on the team. I despise her, so it’ll be fun.”

I love Gretchen’s malice. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, and I admire that.
 

“Bad history?”

“Meh. She’s never been the nicest person to everyone. Still isn’t. I always thought people changed after high school and matured. Not her. In fact, she and Macy probably could be best friends, or even sisters.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask …. what’s your issue with Macy?” I need to dig in, put my hands in the dirt, and pull out what information I can. I haven’t even seen a picture of this girl, but I’m imagining her tall, like five-nine, long blond locks and green eyes. I envision her with perfect skin and pulling off red lipstick like Cindy Crawford.
 

“Feelings? Non-existent.” A shrug releases from her shoulders as she pulls a snack out of her purse.

I frown, unconvinced by her response. Someone bothered by even the mention of a name has
some
sort of feelings, even if only bad ones.

“Okay. Non-existent to tolerant. The best I can do.”

I want the history. Why does she dislike her so much? Have they ever been friends? Did something happen in their past causing a lifelong rift?

“I shouldn’t tell you much else. My brother hates when I talk about her.”

“I understand, but if she’s going to be a part of your family, you should try and be friends with her.” I shift my weight on the box as I wait for a reply that doesn’t come. She and Kellan seem to maintain a strong relationship, and her dislike for his fiancée is evident. Does he take into consideration what she thinks? Here I go again, thinking about Kellan. He won’t leave my mind. I need to force him out. “Speaking of couples—“

“Were we?”

“Well, Kellan and Macy.” My throat swells as I attempt to push pass the awkwardness of asking this. “I was wondering if you know anyone.”

“Sure. I know a lot of people.” She’s as sarcastic as her brother.
 

Dating hasn’t been top on my priority list, and never in my life have I asked to be set up. Back in high school and college, I dated my fair share of guys. Meeting someone never was an issue for me. Then, I met David and fell in love. Once I realized the love was one-sided, I locked my heart away. Now, at thirty-five years old, I’m not sure how to jump back in and meet someone. But I want to. I’m ready to. That’s what I’m missing in my life.

“A guy. I mean, a man. Do you have any male friends?”

“Like single men?” Pretzel shavings spill out of her mouth onto her shirt. “Sorry.” She sweeps them onto the floor and I don’t care. I’m not getting any activity on the open house.

“Yes.” I’m embarrassed she even felt the need to specify. “Any single ones?” Though I would love the chance to date her brother.

“I thought Tiffany and I tried to set you up with Ned and you refused.”

“Yeah, I did. I thought about it some more, and I’m reconsidering.”

“I must be honest, I’m a tad shocked you aren’t dating anyone right now anyway.”

“Really?” I don’t think I’m unattractive, but it’s not like I walk down the street and guys fawn over me. “My life is a little chaotic. Well, until recently. I never took the time to date.”

“Well, let me think here.” Gretchen rests her finger on her chin. “Most of the guys I could introduce you to are from Clark’s work or bowling.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth.
 

“Forget it.” I give up. She can’t think of
one
person.
 

“No, no. Don’t say that. I’m thinking.”

Don’t think too long!

“Ned is the only one who comes to mind. Unless you like younger guys, and then there’s Taylor.”

“No. Not Taylor! He’s a baby!” Tiffany may be okay with it, but I’m not dating someone still in his twenties. Plus, even though those two aren’t a thing, they still sleep together. That’s … ew.

Ned. I contemplate this for a moment. He’s got tattoos, light eyes, long hair. Not my typical type, but let’s be honest, it’s been over ten years, so I don’t really
have
a type. The only way to put myself back into the game is to dive in headfirst. I need to start somewhere, even if it’s Ned. Look at it like practice, like going on multiple job interviews until you find a match. “Fine. If you think Ned will go for it, can you set us up?”

“Consider it done.” She winks at me, and I’m actually excited.

Gretchen sets my date up with Ned for Saturday night. I’m exhausted from the busy week. I contracted with another client and am also working with a young woman with a low budget and a minuscule mortgage approval to match. Dealing with Janice provides a feat in itself. I convinced her to drop the price five thousand dollars after the depressing open house after she laughed at me suggesting we axe it by ten. Five thousand is a start. The open house proved a total loss and the showings aren’t exactly scheduling themselves. Meanwhile, I’m still on the hunt for a place for Kellan, not having found anything I think he’ll like.

I’m meeting Ned at a bar in the heart of downtown called Gold Rush. Gretchen said he chose the pub, his favorite, and he has a surprise for me. I don’t recognize the name, but I’m sure I’ve passed this place before.
 

Not having a social life means my time at bars has been very limited. Even if my visits were more frequent, when I step into Gold Rush, I understand why this is my first time here. The bar is standard, complete with rows of bottles behind it, but instead of stools, patrons are seated on saddles. The tables surrounding me are barrels, and I’m staring into a sea of cowboy hats. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a country western tavern. I grew up on the music, but I haven’t listened to the genre for years.

I’m a little out of place with my outfit. Most people wear boots and a hat, and I’ve got on a babydoll shirt and my hair is spiked a tad. I’m glad I’m wearing jeans like everyone else. I scan the room for Ned and don’t find him, so I order a glass of wine and find a seat at the counter.

The saddle is uncomfortable. How do people sit on these? I tried riding a horse once when I was seven, but being so high off the ground scared the daylights out of me. I swore that day I would never even attempt to ride one. I guess I’m sort of eating my words.

Ten minutes pass and I’m beginning to wonder if I’m being stood up. Gretchen said Ned seemed very interested when she mentioned going out with me, so why isn’t he here? This is sending me the wrong message. Not to mention, I don’t like being made to wait when I could be home doing other things. I
want
to be out on a date. I asked for one. But I at least want my date to show up. If he’s not going to do that, then I would rather be coloring or reading. Or soaking in a bubble bath.

I'm trying my best to enjoy the music, though I prefer the slow ones over the fast. The urge to polka hits me when the faster ones come on. Give me someone like Kelly Clarkson or Taylor Swift who can crossover and I can handle that. These Travis Tritt and Reba McEntire tunes drive me crazy. Too much honky tonk and not even poetry to the lyrics.

“Is this seat taken?” A handsome gentleman with a black cowboy hat slips onto the saddle before I can protest. I open my mouth to speak and he interrupts me. “Why’s a pretty little lady like you sitting at the bar all alone?”

“Pretty little lady?” I repeat as my gag reflex kicks in. Is this what a man considers a compliment?