Outside The Lines:: Third Person Narration by Bella Love

ever seeing any actual, signed lease agreements. If there were any, she said the judge would have them. Or Dan.”  
    He went still.  
    The room had darkened considerably since they started working. The little runner lights made tiny amber dots through the darkness of the hall, a miniature golden runway. Through the windows, electric white light spilled in from the slopes. On the mountains beyond, the bank of clouds had moved over the resort, and fat snowflakes were drifting lazily down.  
    More silence, floating down like the snowflakes.   For a moment, all Juliette could hear was a low white noise of some heater or fan in a distant room, and the occasional shout or squeal from people on the ski slopes outside. Inside, there was nothing but the sound of her breathing and Johnny thinking.
    “No lease agreements,” he said quietly.
    She nodded. They looked at each other.  
    “And I noticed something else,” she said, a bit tentatively.  
    “Of course you did,” he murmured.  
    She couldn’t tell if it was an insult or a compliment and she didn’t care. She smelled something fishy and started reeling it in.
    “If these are pre-paid leases, why do the payments come in such a funny way? Such a bumpy schedule. A bit here, some more there. If it’s a pre-paid, then pre-pay it. If it’s not, then pay when you reserve it or take possession. But why pay six hundred thousand dollars for pre-paid, then pay another hundred thousand a month later, then another couple hundred thousand six months later, then another…. I don’t know, it’s just odd. Don’t you think it’s odd?”
    He didn’t share his thoughts on this. He stayed quiet, waiting.
    “And that initial payment, Johnny?” she went on slowly. “It came in when the place was just a shell, four years ago.”
    “Okay.”
    “Who pays a hundred thousand dollars for a condo without furnishings?   Or running water?”
    His gaze was fixed on her, unwavering and unreadable. She couldn’t tell if he was thinking about what she’d said, or deciding which window to throw her out.  
    Then he shoved his chair back and unraveled to his feet in a single fluid motion, slid his phone off the table and walked off without a word.  
    He crossed the empty room and stopped in front of the huge bay windows.   The front of him glowed in the lights from the lifts.   It highlighted him in stark light and deep shadow, like he was on stage.   He put a hand to his ear and turned sharply away.  
    She heard a faint masculine rumble as he began talking.   She couldn’t make out the words.
    She turned away too and decided that, while Johnny called whomever he was calling to loom them into submission, she was going to give Mrs. Billings a call.

Chapter Six

    MRS. B seemed happy to hear from her, and waved off Juliette’s apology for calling so late in the day.  
    “Not at all, my dear, I’m just sorry we’ve caused you all this additional work,” she assured Juliette in her dreamy voice.
    Mrs. Billings reminded her of an oil painting come to life, or an old jewelry box, something almost ephemeral, barely in this world. She loved old things, things from another world, and had even recently opened her own antique shop, where Mrs. B seemed more comfortable than the modern world she seemed to barely inhabit.   She was kind and accommodating and not the sort to question a powerful husband when he suggested, “Let’s get you a rental property.”
    But why would he suggest that?
    Because it brought in over three million dollars in the past four years. Which was okay. It was just a lot of money. And Juliette wanted to know why.
    Even though, as Johnny had pointed out, it wasn’t her job.
    “Did Johnny bring you the papers I brought in, dear?” Mrs. Billings asked.
    Juliette began pacing. “He did. In fact, I’m with him now, and—”
    “Oh good.” Mrs. B’s voice brightened, sounded more present. “He spoke quite highly of you.”  
    Juliette stopped short. “He