5 Deal Killer by Vicki Doudera Page B

“This is Darby, my friend who is visiting from California. Darby, meet Ramon.”
    “No kidding! You’re this sorry guy’s girlfriend, huh?” His broad face broke into a grin. Inclining his head as if to whisper, he said, “I like to kid old Miles ’cause he’s so prim and proper, being an Englishman and all that.” He cocked his head, giving the young woman an appraising glance. “What about you? You’re from Southern California, right?”
    “Actually, I was born and raised in Maine.”
    “Really? You sure don’t look like you’re from Maine. Not exactly white bread, are you? I can say that because I’m a mutt myself—Cuban and Polish. What about you?”
    “My mother was Japanese and my father was a New Englander.”
    He whistled. “Well, there you go. No wonder you’re so pretty and exotic. I’m always saying that we’re all Americans, when it comes right down to it. Good old melting pot.” He jerked a thumb toward Miles. “Except for Mr. Bean over here.”
    “Mr. Bean!” Miles was incredulous. “Can’t say I’m too keen on that comparison. I was thinking Daniel Craig, myself.”
    “Ha! In your dreams, Porter, in your dreams.”
    “Brilliant, Ramon, now that you’ve thoroughly insulted me in front of my girlfriend, tell me, who was that handsome older lady who walked out just before us?”
    “The one who can’t give anybody the time of day? That’s Mrs. Graff. She lives on the fifth floor with her maid, although I guess to day you’d call her a ‘personal assistant’ or something. Usually Yvette — that’s the maid—is the one doing the errands, walking the dog—you know. They’ve got a cute little poodle named Mimi. You hardly ever see Mrs. Graff leave the building. She’s one of those rich, eccentric types—likes to keep to herself.”
    Not an easy feat with Ramon around , thought Darby.
    Miles clapped a hand on the doorman’s shoulder. “Thank you, Ramon. It’s nice to know who my neighbors are, even if I’m only here for a few more months.”
    “Anytime, Miles. I know everyone in the building by sight, and nearly everyone by name. After all, there’re only two hundred residences.” He pushed open the door for them. “Where you headed?”
    “I’m off to take Darby for a fabulous brunch.”
    “Can’t do better than The Camellia.” He glanced at his watch. “Nine o’clock. Want me to call for reservations?”
    “Already taken care of, my good fellow.”
    “Tootles, then.” Ramon gave a little bow. “I’ll be seeing you again, Darby.”
    “Definitely,” she said, smiling, as they strolled onto the sidewalk. Nudging Miles with her elbow, she teased, “Girlfriend, huh?”
    “Yes,” he said, pulling her close and giving her a hug. “ Girlfriend . You know, I happen to like the sound of it.”
    “I see,” she said. To herself she thought: Me too, Mr. Bean.
    _____
    As they finished up their brunch of salmon and lox, Miles asked Darby her plans for her visit in the city.
    “Plans? I’m here to see you,” she said, wiping a dab of cream cheese from her lips. The Camellia had been every bit as good as Ramon had promised, and Darby was stuffed.
    “Now come on, love, I know you better than that. You’re here to spend time with me but you’ve got more than that on your Darby agenda.”
    “I can’t believe you’re saying that,” she protested, pretending to pout. “I’ve barely landed and you’re questioning my reasons for being here. What kind of a host are you, anyway?”
    “A realistic one. Fess up, Darby, you’re planning to acquire a boutique agency here—or land a new listing. Am I right?”
    “Wrong. I’m here to relax and spend time with you—when you’re not teaching or grilling me about my motives.”
    “That’s all? No properties to preview for any clients? No hot buyers to meet for drinks?”
    She paused. “Not really.”
    “Not really? Aha! So you do have a secret real estate plan.”
    She laughed. “Hardly. But now that you