“Yes,” she answered flatly. “But apparently not as many times as you have.”
Mike leaned forward and accepted the real estate listings she was extending in his direction.
“The top ones first,” she said. “They need screening for an out of town client. And, since not all of them came with pictures --”
“No problem,” Mike said, standing. “I’ll get on it right away.”
Carrie had tossed and turned all night, excited at the prospect of her new project. But was she really doing the right thing? What if Mike hated the idea, or resented her getting involved in his professional life? Unasked, no less.
Carrie looked in the mirror and tugged at her cheeks, dismayed to see the puffy bags under her eyes didn’t dissipate. Maybe she should just ask him. Flat out.
But, no. That would completely ruin the surprise. Carrie had seen the way his eyes had sparkled at the mention of moving to the Caymans. Once, she was certain, that had been his goal. But now, with her in the picture, could it be he was planning to put it aside? He hadn’t even mentioned it since that early conversation back at the inn. Maybe he thought the idea wouldn’t appeal to her.
Carrie considered how awful it would be to have something, or even somebody unwittingly, discourage your dream. Since the time she’d entered college and worked her way through, Carrie had pursued everything that was important to her. Nobody had ever told her that she couldn’t. And her Grandma Russell, bless her, had always said that all she had to do was try.
Having been employed by a large New York investment firm right out of grad school, Carrie had been lucky in business. It wasn’t long before she was making good money and, because she honestly didn’t have a lot of places to spend it, the money had amassed quickly. Before long people were coming to her for favors, or opportunities for helping people just seemed to land at her feet. There was her favorite hotdog vendor with his dream of opening up his own deli, her coworker who’s aunt’s independent bookstore was on the brink of foreclosure and badly needed refinancing, her apartment manager who was quite sure, if he had the funds, he could turn his dilapidated building into some of the finest condominiums on New York’s Upper East side.
All of those dreams had become realities thanks to Carrie’s personal investment in each of these ventures. The results had given her more than satisfaction, they had given her purpose. Within a year, she’d become incorporated and established her own independent investment firm. Two years later, she made the cover of Forbes. But in spite of the increasingly lucrative opportunities that poured her way, Carrie stayed true to her initial calling of helping the small businessman. Though she’d never been precisely poor, her background had been modest. And she’d seen from her own experience that a “rags to riches” existence was possible. All so many people needed was just a chance to get them started. And if the man she loved needed that same kind of chance, she would move heaven and earth to make it happen.
Carrie scooped the morning paper off her front porch and sat down to browse the financial section over coffee. She had figured Mike for some sort of real estate venture. High end sales, perhaps combined with property management of some of Grand Caymans larger estates.
Carrie laid down her paper, a surprising thought taking hold. What if Mike hadn’t planned to work in real estate at all in the Caymans?
But, what else was there? Certainly not early retirement for a man as clever and energetic as Mike. He still seemed way too ambitious, not to mention physically...
Physical! But, of course, Carrie thought with a grin. Her “swim god” wanted to go to the Caymans to capitalize on his native expertise. And Carrie wasn’t talking about love-making... Though she was certainly hoping there’d plenty of that.
The moment Mike stepped from the car it hit him with a one, two punch. This was it, he thought, looking around. This was home.
The white cape cod was nestled in a quiet grove just west of the city. It was zoned for the best school system, one of his client’s priorities, and had enough bedrooms -- four -- to accommodate a houseful of children.
Mike stood on the front circular drive looking up at the dormer windows protruding from the second story. Those would give plenty of light, and most likely window seats, to the children’s rooms.
When Mike stepped inside and walked through the foyer and directly to the back of the house, he was not disappointed. The high stone hearth made the open family room connecting to the kitchen look cozy. Mike’s trained eye swept over the kitchen appliances which all looked to be less than five years old. A good sign for a house that had been built in the 1940's. It was an indication the owners had routinely kept it up and not just bandaged things at the last minute for the sale.
At the back of the kitchen area sat a large bay window, looking out onto immaculately tended gardens. One hosting several rows of summer vegetables, another sporting colorful flowers surrounding a sparking pond.
Mike’s heartbeat picked up a notch as he circled back through the formal living area and dining rooms, both which needed painting but heralded gorgeous ceiling and chair rail moldings.
Though it was his job, Mike felt surprisingly like Goldilocks, as he took the stairs two at a time and hurried upstairs into the bedrooms. He went to the front of the house first, where he found, as he’d suspected, a couple of cheerfully decorated children’s rooms complete with sun-dappled dormer windows.
The master bedroom was good-sized, but not so large a couple could get lost in it. And the fourth bedroom, which was currently used as an office, and two upstairs baths were inviting and well maintained.
Mike felt he was bursting at the seams as he took it all in. He’d always heard buying real estate was an emotional experience. Had witnessed that enamored expression on the faces of many of his clients. But never a million years did he dream that besotted feeling would happen to him.
Carrie would love it. He just knew it. Though her current place was charming, it was nowhere big enough to accommodate a large family. And this house here, situated at the crest of a sleepy knoll, was not only roomy enough for plenty of children --all the rug rats Mike secretly hoped he and Carrie would make -- it was also afforded the same stunning view of the mountains.
Mike went downstairs and walked out onto the back patio, eyeing the one accouterment that had cinched the deal from the moment he’d hit the property line. Fanning the border of the house’s perimeter was a neat arrangement of flowers and shrubs. And behind those -- gleaming in the sunlight -- stood a freshly painted a white picket fence.
****
Chapter Seventeen
Carrie picked up her office phone and dialed. Though she quite obviously sometimes gambled with her heart, when it came to business dealings, Carrie was exceedingly cautious. Before she went and did anything involving money, she needed to make certain her hunch was accurate.
“Hello?” Jack Davis answered.
“Jack, good morning. This is Carrie, Carrie St. John.”
“Why, Carrie!” he said, sounding genuinely pleased to hear her voice. “How are you? That son of mine behaving himself? Cause if he’s not, I’m still available, you know.”
Carrie chuckled. “Oh Jack, you are bad.”
“Thank you, my dear. So, what can I for you this morning? Time to start practicing our wedding march already?”
Carrie blanched before remembering she’d impetuously invited Jack to walk her down the aisle. An act she still wasn’t sorry for. Mike’s dad was adorable. “Oh no, not that. But, I’ll certainly let you know.
“Actually, I was calling with a question -- about Mike.”
“Mike?” Jack exclaimed. “Well, I can’t completely promise you I’ve figured that boy out. But go ahead and shoot, if you’d like. I’ll do the best that I can.”
Carrie hoped she wouldn’t disillusion her prospective farther-in-law by seeming too forward. But, in for a penny, in for a pound, she told herself. “It’s about the British West Indies. The Cayman Islands, specifically.”
Jack seemed to be waiting on the other end of the line. Not commenting, just waiting for Carrie to finish. She wasn’t sure if this was good, but decided to press on ahead.
“Anyhow, I realize Mike has an interest in the Caymans --”
“That so?” Jack butted in. “Didn’t know he’d discussed it with you.”
Ah, Carrie thought, then there was something to discuss, and something to her gut feeling, after all. “Well, he mentioned it somewhat. Some time ago, actually. But I could tell, even at the time, how very important it was to him.”
“I think Mike’s just recently found what’s most important to him.”
Carrie colored at the compliment, despite the fact Jack couldn’t see her. “I appreciate that, really I do. And Mike is very special to me. Extra special. I hope to marry him.”
Jack was quiet for a moment before speaking. “That’s wonderful! He’s asked you, then?”
“Well, uh...not exactly. But let’s just say I see it coming.”
“Then I say, your vision’s twenty-twenty, my girl.”
That extra bit of reassurance warmed Carrie through and through. “But because I love him, Jack, I’d hate to think of Mike giving up any long-term dreams on my account.”
“Oh now, fluff,” Jack said, huffing into the phone. “Don’t you go worrying your pretty little head over that. I never really believed the boy was going to open that dive shop anyway.”
Carrie hung up the phone after thanking him and promising Jack she’d let him know just as soon as they’d scheduled the wedding rehearsal. Wedding rehearsal?! They still hadn’t invited half the guests. The ones that would fill in the slots Wilson’s missing family would have occupied. Oh well, Carrie decided, she could think of that tomorrow. Today, she had some phone-calling to do.
“Mary,” she called into the next room. “Do you have a moment to come in a make some notes?”
“Yes ma’am,” Mary said, appearing at the threshold.
“Great,” Carrie said, her grin as wide as the big outdoors, “because we’re slightly revising our project. Ready to dive in?”
“You sure about this?” Colleen said, staring up at Mike in disbelief. “A four-bedroom house is a big investment for a bachelor.”
Mike patiently shook his head. This afternoon, not even Colleen was going to sour his mood. “Already told you Colleen, not going to be a bachelor that much longer.”
Colleen dropped down into her chair in shock. “You’re dead serious about this, aren’t you?"
For the first time for as long as he remembered, Colleen lifted the dangling bifocals from her neck and shoved them up on her nose. “Shut the door, Mike.”
Mike walked to the back of Colleen’s office and closed the door, giving the two of them privacy.
“Have a seat,” she instructed when he returned.
“Now,” Colleen said, once he was seated. “Tell me honestly, what kind of trouble are you in?”
“Trouble?”
“Is the girl pregnant? Because, if she is --”
“Pregnant?! Holy cow! Pregnant, Colleen?”
Colleen motioned downward with her outstretched palms. “Just calm down there, Mike. You won’t be the first one on my staff who’s gotten himself into a bit of a, uh...personal pickle.”
“Colleen, I’m not asking you for money! I have enough for the down payment in my account. I’ve been saving it up for a while now for...for... Well, never mind. It’s not important anymore. What is important is that I’m not asking you for any special favors, here. Only the standard cut on the price based on reduced commission since someone in this office is buying it. I don’t see the big deal. It’s accepted protocol. I’ve seen you authorize such sales at least a dozen times.”
“So, she’s not pregnant?” Colleen asked, as if she hadn’t heard a word.
“Give us a couple of months,” Mike said, settling back in his chair.
“How much is the house?” Colleen asked, sighing and eyeing him quizzically.
“Two-forty.”
Colleen raised her eyebrows. “Joint mortgage?”
“Absolutely not,” Mike told her. “This one has to be all mine."
His to own and his to give away -- with a full heart, Mike thought with a deep inner peace that spread from his heart to his belly.
Carrie couldn’t believe her luck. There was a small store for sale just at the edge of trendy Seven Mile Beach. With all the major resort hotels nearby, the location couldn’t have been more perfect. The shop, just outside of George Town, was even guaranteed docking privileges. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Of course, as the store had formally served as a nick-knack and jewelry shop they’d have some remodeling to do. Probably
plenty of remodeling to do, given the bargain basement price of the property, Carrie decided.
Still, if the appraiser she’d contacted at the Grand Cayman bank came back with the report Carrie expected, the place was a steal. An investment waiting to happen. Carrie’s palms moistened at the possibilities. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Mike’s face.