Page 13 of The Fireman and the Flirt

Cary stood on his tiptoes and bit his lip for a second, another slip of nerves. I had to admit it was endearing to have someone be nervous around me. Or maybe that was how he naturally was, a guy perpetually on edge.

“How does it feel to be back in town?” he asked.

“Uh, good.” I never did well with these small-talky questions. I hope he didn’t think I was still some monosyllabic jock who spoke in grunts. “I’m happy to be back, happy to be around family.”

“I’ll bet. Well, since you are back, you need a place to live, which is why I’m assuming you’re here this morning. Let’s go and talk through what you’re looking for.” Cary waved for me to follow him back into his office. “Did you want anything to drink?”

“Coffee, if you have it.”

He walked us through a maze of cubicles to a glass-walled, brightly-lit conference room.

“Shoot. I should’ve picked you up a coffee on my way here. I’ll get you a coffee from our break room. It’s good coffee, but not as good as a cup of Caroline’s coffee.”

“Caroline’s. Blast from the past.”

“And still the best. Take a seat and take off your coat. Get comfortable. I’ll be right back.” He darted out of the conference room, then quickly swooped back in. “I should ask how you like your coffee.”

“Black.”

“That tracks.”

“How so?” I asked.

His cheeks began to redden. “You just seem like a black coffee kind of guy. Likeme mountain man on oil rig. Me no time for cream or half and half.”

“Is that how I sound?”

I knew what Cary was getting at, but there was a fun pleasure in watching him turn a deeper shade of red to match his shirt.

“No. I don’t know where that came from.” Another nervous laugh. He had a great smile, even when it was full of discomfort. “I’m going to get you that coffee. Be right back!”

I shucked off my coat. I wore a black T-shirt and felt very underdressed. I never settled in well at corporate settings. I was a man who worked with his hands and preferred to be comfortable.

Cary swooped into the conference room with a coffee for me and a water for him. Good call. I didn’t think he needed anymore caffeine. Under his arm was a thick folder and tablet.

“You’re not cold?” he asked, pointing at my T-shirt.

“Nope. I wear heavy coats when I’m outside, but inside, every place is heated, so there’s no need for bundling up in sweaters and shit.”

“That’s actually pretty smart.” He slid the folder across to me. “This is our welcome packet. It has information about PRG, how we’ve been in business since 1952, so we know what we’re doing. Plus there’s a packet that describes the process of buying a house, as well as gives some information on Sourwood. You can read all that on your own. Since you’ve bought a house before and grew up here, you probably know a lot of what’s in there.”

“Do I have to read it?” I eyed the thick stack of glossy paper.

He shook his head and laughed. “No. But I’m required to give it to you and strongly suggest that you read it cover to cover.”

I quickly flipped through the folder’s contents. Shiny graphics and big charts and stock images of satisfied homebuyers standing in front of the houses of their dreams. At the end was a one-page bio of Cary with his picture. He and a blonde woman were sitting on a desk, like powerbrokers, but for houses.

I held up the picture.

“Hannah is my partner. She’s on a call with a client, but she’s also here to assist you or answer any questions you have. We’re a team.”

“I was going to say you look like a badass.”

“I was going for professional and competent. But I like badass.”

“How’d you get into real estate?” From what little I remembered about Cary, he didn’t strike me as the salesy type of guy. He was shy and awkward. Cal seemed like the leader in their friendship. Although, after hearing that gearhead story, there was a whole other side to Cary I didn’t know about.

“I wasn’t the best student. Things fell off my junior year…anyway, I went to community college, thinking I’d figure out what I wanted to do for my bachelor’s. I got a part-time job working at the PRG office, doing filing and data entry. And I got swept up in the excitement of real estate. I liked that anyone could do it. There are people here with all kinds of backgrounds. Stay-at-home parents who wanted a side hustle, former addicts who turned their lives around, veterans looking for something after their tours of duty.”

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