hadn't expected to be forced to make a decision about him so soon. As she stared speechlessly at him, she began to understand what it was about Charlie that threw her. She had never felt an instant physical attraction to a man. The physical had always followed the emotional and intellectual attraction. But she had been instantly drawn to Charlie, and that worried her.
She didn't entirely understand her feelings. She only knew that something about being involved with Charlie frightened her. And she had learned to trust her instincts.
So that night she had turned him down, but that hadn't stopped him from trying again . . . and again. Somehow when the course in real-estate law began, Charlie managed to get in the same class with Sara. And in all the other classes. During the day she continued to work at the law office and Charlie was at his father's firm, but each of them was waiting for the future to begin. Then, months later, when they had completed all the required courses, they took their state exams together.
Three weeks after the test, Sara was at home polishing the silver, trying to keep her mind off the waiting, off the possibility that she had failed the test, when the doorbell rang. Charlie was standing on her doorstep with a champagne bottle in each hand.
"You passed," she said, not bothering to hide her envy as she showed him in. "Why haven't they called me yet? They're doing it on purpose." She groaned. "It's some kind of trial by fire ... or maybe they know I'll start crying when they tell me I failed." She glanced at him anxiously. "Oh, Charlie, I failed, didn't I? And no one wants to tell me."
He smiled slyly. "Did I ever tell you about my connection on the state board?"
"You know something," she accused him, grasping his arm. "What do you know, Charlie? Tell me!"
Laughing at her threatening expression, he threw an arm around her waist. "You passed."
Sara squealed, tossing her cleaning rag into the air in triumph. Then suddenly they were dancing together, around the room and over the furniture, in a pagan rite of victory. Exhilaration shot through them before they even uncorked the champagne.
Much later they sat together on the couch, their shoulders touching as they talked. One bottle of champagne was gone and the other well on its way.
Sara took a sip from her glass. "It was always in the future. Now it's here. I still can't believe it. There's so much to do."
Charlie groaned. "I've got to find an office. I've had offers from two real-estate companies, but that's not what I want. I want to set up my own place. I want to handle the houses I want to handle, not the ones that someone else wants me to." He glanced at Sara.
"How about renting me one of the rooms out back? If clients don't like what you've got, I can show them my listings."
She was silent for a moment. "You know, that might work."
"I was teasing."
"No, listen, Charlie," she said, sitting up straighter. "We could be partners. I'll take the older homes and you can handle the modern ones. It's perfect."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Just think about it a minute," she urged. "Can you see any real drawbacks?"
"No . . . but it seems to me that I would be getting all the benefits."
"No, you wouldn't. The more business we can handle, the more customers well draw in. We take our commission off the top; then a percentage of that will go back into the business. Before long we'll be tycoons."
"I like it," he said, his blue eyes sparkling as he hugged her. "By George, I like it." He raised his glass. "To our partnership."
She laughed with excitement and drained her glass.
"Now we have to throw our glasses in the fireplace," he said, standing.
"That's my best crystal!" she said, grabbing his arm to pull him back.
He fell onto the sofa, laughing as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They had both had too much champagne, but that couldn't explain the explosion that took place when he kissed her. Somehow she had known it would be this way.
She didn't entirely understand her feelings. She only knew that something about being involved with Charlie frightened her. And she had learned to trust her instincts.
So that night she had turned him down, but that hadn't stopped him from trying again . . . and again. Somehow when the course in real-estate law began, Charlie managed to get in the same class with Sara. And in all the other classes. During the day she continued to work at the law office and Charlie was at his father's firm, but each of them was waiting for the future to begin. Then, months later, when they had completed all the required courses, they took their state exams together.
Three weeks after the test, Sara was at home polishing the silver, trying to keep her mind off the waiting, off the possibility that she had failed the test, when the doorbell rang. Charlie was standing on her doorstep with a champagne bottle in each hand.
"You passed," she said, not bothering to hide her envy as she showed him in. "Why haven't they called me yet? They're doing it on purpose." She groaned. "It's some kind of trial by fire ... or maybe they know I'll start crying when they tell me I failed." She glanced at him anxiously. "Oh, Charlie, I failed, didn't I? And no one wants to tell me."
He smiled slyly. "Did I ever tell you about my connection on the state board?"
"You know something," she accused him, grasping his arm. "What do you know, Charlie? Tell me!"
Laughing at her threatening expression, he threw an arm around her waist. "You passed."
Sara squealed, tossing her cleaning rag into the air in triumph. Then suddenly they were dancing together, around the room and over the furniture, in a pagan rite of victory. Exhilaration shot through them before they even uncorked the champagne.
Much later they sat together on the couch, their shoulders touching as they talked. One bottle of champagne was gone and the other well on its way.
Sara took a sip from her glass. "It was always in the future. Now it's here. I still can't believe it. There's so much to do."
Charlie groaned. "I've got to find an office. I've had offers from two real-estate companies, but that's not what I want. I want to set up my own place. I want to handle the houses I want to handle, not the ones that someone else wants me to." He glanced at Sara.
"How about renting me one of the rooms out back? If clients don't like what you've got, I can show them my listings."
She was silent for a moment. "You know, that might work."
"I was teasing."
"No, listen, Charlie," she said, sitting up straighter. "We could be partners. I'll take the older homes and you can handle the modern ones. It's perfect."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Just think about it a minute," she urged. "Can you see any real drawbacks?"
"No . . . but it seems to me that I would be getting all the benefits."
"No, you wouldn't. The more business we can handle, the more customers well draw in. We take our commission off the top; then a percentage of that will go back into the business. Before long we'll be tycoons."
"I like it," he said, his blue eyes sparkling as he hugged her. "By George, I like it." He raised his glass. "To our partnership."
She laughed with excitement and drained her glass.
"Now we have to throw our glasses in the fireplace," he said, standing.
"That's my best crystal!" she said, grabbing his arm to pull him back.
He fell onto the sofa, laughing as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They had both had too much champagne, but that couldn't explain the explosion that took place when he kissed her. Somehow she had known it would be this way.
Similar Books
