Page 19 of Heating Up (Nugget)
Dana thought it was probably true but wasn’t at liberty to discuss it. “I have to run to the new house. But again, Grace, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the clothes. What you did for me . . .”
“Honey, we’re all here for you. You remember that.”
She felt warmed by the words and chided herself for not making more of an effort to get to know people. She just wasn’t good at putting herself out there.
It was one thirty, leaving her just enough time to grab a burger at the Bun Boy, Nugget’s only other eating option besides the Ponderosa, before heading to the house. She ordered at the drive-through speaker, drove to the window, and waited until a kid—probably a Nugget High student—handed her a white sack. On the short drive over, she ate half the fries and stayed in the car with the air conditioning on to finish her burger. Afterward, she tossed her wrappers in the trash and began unloading. Paint, the new bedding, and bags of supplies she’d bought in Reno. In her new bedroom she changed into painting clothes and a pair of old tennis shoes and went in search of a ladder, finding one in the garage.
Over the next hour, she taped off the moldings, covered the floor, and started priming the walls. She used a brush to cut into the tight spots between the wall and ceiling but made real progress with a big roller. In no time, the pink began to disappear. Before getting her license she’d worked in a real estate office that did a lot of its own house staging for clients. That was where Dana had learned to paint, as well as a handful of useful decorating tips.
By the time the room was primed, her bed came, and Dana had the delivery men set it up in the middle of the room so she could continue painting. In the heat, the primer would dry fast, and she might even be able to get on the first coat of color—a hydrangea green that would complement beautifully her new pink-and-green-striped bedding.
Not long after the bed guys left, Aidan’s moving truck appeared. Like with her bed, she had them cluster the living room furniture in the middle of the room. She hoped to have it painted before Aidan returned. He actually had some pretty nice things, including a sectional sofa that looked like it came from a Pottery Barn–type store. The ex-girlfriend must’ve picked it out, she told herself, and again wondered what the story was there.
She wasn’t sure if he wanted to paint his room—the color was nice and already went with his stuff—so she directed the movers to set the sleigh bed against the wall with the nightstands on each side. Okay, Dana was probably being sexist, but his bedroom furniture also had the mark of a woman. Not that the pieces weren’t masculine enough, just a little too matchy-matchy. Aidan didn’t strike her as the coordinated type.
Although he’d been pretty good about marking the boxes. Still, she would’ve used a black marker with a fine point. Less likely to bleed that way. All the cartons were starting to make the small house claustrophobic, so Dana went outside to get a breath of fresh air. That was when her phone rang.
Hoping that it was the listing agent on the Griswolds’ property, she checked the display. New York.
“Dana Calloway,” she answered.
“Hi, Ms. Calloway. I’m planning to visit next week for a few days and was wondering if you could show me some properties.”
“Absolutely.” Dana hadn’t had any clients from New York yet. “Did you get my number from Carol at the office?”
“No. I tried the office and got a machine. Your number was on the ad in theNugget Tribune.”
Good, Dana thought. Advertising in the online newspaper was bringing them business. It amazed her how many people across the country subscribed for the real estate listings. Nugget might not be Tahoe or Palm Springs or the Napa Valley, but slowly it was starting to attract buyers looking for vacation and retirement homes at a good price.
“What specifically are you looking for? Houses, property, something in an upscale planned community with lots of amenities?”
“A place for horses with a house.”
“Do you have a number of acres in mind?” The more information Dana got up front, the better she could narrow down the options.
“No, not really. I’ll know it when I see it.”
In Dana’s experience, people who said things like that just wanted to play. But you never knew when a lookie loo might turn into a real buyer. “You want to go out next Friday? I could make arrangements for a few viewings. Once we see a couple of places, I’ll get a better feel for what you have in mind.”
“Wonderful,” the woman said, then briefly paused. “I will need you to sign a confidentiality agreement, however. Will that be a problem?”
Confidentiality over what?Who was this woman? “Are you a celebrity?” Dana couldn’t help but ask.
“Something like that.” She laughed, but Dana thought it sounded harsh and bitter. “It’s difficult on the phone . . . and I can’t explain it unless you’re willing to sign the NDA.”
“I’ll be perfectly frank with you: I’ve never been faced with this sort of thing before.” The most famous person Dana had ever sold a house to in Tahoe was a Sacramento anchorwoman for one of the local network affiliates. In Nugget, none of her clients had been famous. “I’ll have to talk to my agency’s broker. I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but I’d like to check first.”
“I appreciate that.”
“In the meantime, I’ll pull several listings to send you. Uh, you do realize that at the close of escrow anything you buy becomes public record?”
“Yes. I’ll be buying as a corporation,” she said. “Shall we talk tomorrow, then?”
While the call wouldn’t have been peculiar in Los Angeles, here in Nugget it was downright strange, leaving Dana beyond intrigued. “Absolutely.”
What her mysterious client didn’t know was that Dana could sign all the nondisclosure forms in the world, but as soon as one of the townsfolk spied a famous person in Nugget, word would spread faster than a New York minute.
Chapter 5
