side?”
“That wasn’t a ski run, that was a suicide attempt.”
Evan laughs. “Those moguls were insane. All the same, my parents can’t speak highly enough about you.”
“Thank you, I enjoy them as well,” Wes says.
Oh, no.
A thought paralyzes me with fear. He’s an associate of Evan’s parents. A likely confidant. Does he plan to expose me to them? Make known my behavior and save their son from marrying a loose-lipped drunk, garnering himself an even closer alliance with them and their rich real estate developer friends? Oh, God, they’ll hate me. They’ll think I’m an awful match for Evan.
I can imagine it now. At the wedding, his parents will shake their heads in disapproval and whisper to friends and flown-in family members that I’m the daughter-in-law who flirts with random strangers. “Likes to get drunk at airport sports bars,” they’ll say with a certain tone. Except they won’t refer to me by name. I’ll simply be known as
her
.
Evan continues, “You know, the last time I saw you, Julie was with you. How is she?”
“Fine, thank you.”
Instinctively I glance at Wes’s ring finger. No ring. Ha! This explains a hell of a lot about his character. Typical Southern California guy slips off his wedding band when he’s out of his wife’s sight. Such a schmuck.
I’m about to call him on this, point out that his relationship isn’t perfect and who is he to make assumptions about mine? And, now that I see clearer, his sideburns
definitely
need a trim.
Evan asks, “And the boy?”
Wes’s face lights up like it did at the bar. “Trevor’s seven already, can you believe it?”
“Already?” Evan shakes his head.
“He’s a good boy; still struggles a bit. Julie’s really great with him.”
“I’m sure,” Evan says.
“Um, speaking of surprises.” Even though we weren’t. I mean, enough about Wes. I’ll worry about him and his motivation later. Tonight is about me.
“Right, right. That’s what tonight is about.”
See?
Evan reaches into his jacket pocket.
Paperwork for me to sign? A little formal at dinner, but that’s okay, let’s sign, seal, and deliver this partnership. We can borrow a pen from Santo.
Evan doesn’t pull out an envelope full of tiny-worded documents with my name in capital bold letters underneath a
Sign Here
line. He doesn’t pull out a business card with
Lanie Howard, Broker
scribed in fancy font. Nor does he pull out an etched nameplate for my desk. He pulls out a baggie of . . .
dirt
.
“Surprise.” He sets the clump of rocks and sand before me.
What the hell does a bag of dirt have to do with my promotion? “What is this?”
“I bought it.”
“A pile of dirt?”
Merlot laces his breath as he laughs. “I bought the house that accompanies the dirt. Twenty-eight ten Orchid Lane.”
Orchid Lane? I rack my brain for an answer. Nothing comes to me. This is payback for drinking myself silly when I should have reviewed the market inventory. Damn karma. “What house on Orchid Lane?”
“You’re going to love it. It’s located in a prime area of Paradise Valley. I bought it before the listing went public, closed escrow this afternoon.” He leans back in his chair. “Consider it an early wedding present.”
My brain is abuzz. A house? By
house
does he mean
broker promotion
?
Evan glances at Wes. “Look at her. She’s completely surprised.”
As if on cue, Santo arrives with another bottle of wine and three clean glasses. “Celebration?” he asks.
“Indeed. I bought my bride a house.”
“Congratulations, miss.” Santo uncorks the bottle and after Evan’s protocol, fills each glass, starting with mine.
I smile at Santo, then ask Evan, “What about the condo?”
“You’ll list the condo tomorrow. I want it to hit the MLS first thing in the morning.”
“You said escrow closed today?”
“Yes, I’ve got the keys in my pocket. Did a good job of keeping this a secret, didn’t I?”
“I had no idea.”
“That wasn’t a ski run, that was a suicide attempt.”
Evan laughs. “Those moguls were insane. All the same, my parents can’t speak highly enough about you.”
“Thank you, I enjoy them as well,” Wes says.
Oh, no.
A thought paralyzes me with fear. He’s an associate of Evan’s parents. A likely confidant. Does he plan to expose me to them? Make known my behavior and save their son from marrying a loose-lipped drunk, garnering himself an even closer alliance with them and their rich real estate developer friends? Oh, God, they’ll hate me. They’ll think I’m an awful match for Evan.
I can imagine it now. At the wedding, his parents will shake their heads in disapproval and whisper to friends and flown-in family members that I’m the daughter-in-law who flirts with random strangers. “Likes to get drunk at airport sports bars,” they’ll say with a certain tone. Except they won’t refer to me by name. I’ll simply be known as
her
.
Evan continues, “You know, the last time I saw you, Julie was with you. How is she?”
“Fine, thank you.”
Instinctively I glance at Wes’s ring finger. No ring. Ha! This explains a hell of a lot about his character. Typical Southern California guy slips off his wedding band when he’s out of his wife’s sight. Such a schmuck.
I’m about to call him on this, point out that his relationship isn’t perfect and who is he to make assumptions about mine? And, now that I see clearer, his sideburns
definitely
need a trim.
Evan asks, “And the boy?”
Wes’s face lights up like it did at the bar. “Trevor’s seven already, can you believe it?”
“Already?” Evan shakes his head.
“He’s a good boy; still struggles a bit. Julie’s really great with him.”
“I’m sure,” Evan says.
“Um, speaking of surprises.” Even though we weren’t. I mean, enough about Wes. I’ll worry about him and his motivation later. Tonight is about me.
“Right, right. That’s what tonight is about.”
See?
Evan reaches into his jacket pocket.
Paperwork for me to sign? A little formal at dinner, but that’s okay, let’s sign, seal, and deliver this partnership. We can borrow a pen from Santo.
Evan doesn’t pull out an envelope full of tiny-worded documents with my name in capital bold letters underneath a
Sign Here
line. He doesn’t pull out a business card with
Lanie Howard, Broker
scribed in fancy font. Nor does he pull out an etched nameplate for my desk. He pulls out a baggie of . . .
dirt
.
“Surprise.” He sets the clump of rocks and sand before me.
What the hell does a bag of dirt have to do with my promotion? “What is this?”
“I bought it.”
“A pile of dirt?”
Merlot laces his breath as he laughs. “I bought the house that accompanies the dirt. Twenty-eight ten Orchid Lane.”
Orchid Lane? I rack my brain for an answer. Nothing comes to me. This is payback for drinking myself silly when I should have reviewed the market inventory. Damn karma. “What house on Orchid Lane?”
“You’re going to love it. It’s located in a prime area of Paradise Valley. I bought it before the listing went public, closed escrow this afternoon.” He leans back in his chair. “Consider it an early wedding present.”
My brain is abuzz. A house? By
house
does he mean
broker promotion
?
Evan glances at Wes. “Look at her. She’s completely surprised.”
As if on cue, Santo arrives with another bottle of wine and three clean glasses. “Celebration?” he asks.
“Indeed. I bought my bride a house.”
“Congratulations, miss.” Santo uncorks the bottle and after Evan’s protocol, fills each glass, starting with mine.
I smile at Santo, then ask Evan, “What about the condo?”
“You’ll list the condo tomorrow. I want it to hit the MLS first thing in the morning.”
“You said escrow closed today?”
“Yes, I’ve got the keys in my pocket. Did a good job of keeping this a secret, didn’t I?”
“I had no idea.”
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