Page 58 of The Attic on Queen Street
Suzy surprised me by laughing. “Don’t worry about that, Melanie. Trust me on this. Marc Longo isn’t the only one with important connections in the publishing world. And Jack has many fans, me included.”
“Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“Maybe it’s because you never return my phone calls or texts.”
I blushed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that—”
She held up her hand to stop me. “Water under the bridge. Now,” she said, pulling out a pad of lined paper and a pencil, “we have work to do.”
CHAPTER 17
I pushed open the door to the Normandy Farm Artisan Bakery on Broad Street, enjoying my favorite mixed aromas of baking bread and coffee. I had been forced to find another purveyor of sugary confections and whipped-cream-smothered coffee near my office after the sudden and recent closure of Ruth’s Bakery. Ruth’s rent had tripled and her daughters had sweetened the incentive to retire by buying her a small house on the same street where they and Ruth’s grandchildren lived. Catherine Jimenez had been both the listing and selling agent—of course—so I’d been left not only without Ruth’s sweet smile and delicious coffee and pastries waiting for me each morning, but with the dire necessity of finding a nearby replacement.
I found a table in the middle of the small dining area and sat down with my large coffee and ham and Gruyère croissant. I’d considered taking it the few doors down to my office and eating it at my desk, but I didn’t want Catherine to see me sitting down or eating because I’d never seen her do either.
I had just taken my first bite of croissant when I heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. Then I felt a bump as it collided with the leg of my table, spilling my coffee. With my mouth full, Ilooked up in annoyance, surprised—although no less annoyed—to see Michael Farrell sliding into the chair now placed next to me.
“Good morning, Melanie. I was just about to come see you at your office, but saw you come in here. I hope you don’t mind.”
It was a good thing my mouth was full or I would have told him that I did mind very much. He took my silence as acquiescence and settled back in his chair. After swallowing a sip of coffee, I made a big show of checking my wristwatch and my phone and then my two calendars. “I thought our meeting was in half an hour.” I didn’t make it sound like a question, because when it came to schedules, I was never wrong.
“I know. Veronica will join us at your office then. I just wanted to speak with you privately. She gets very... emotional... when we talk about Adrienne and selling the house, so I wanted the chance to cut to the chase before our official meeting.”
“Emotional? Adrienne was her sister, who was murdered by some person who has never been brought to justice. Someone who is still out there more than two decades after Veronica and her parents buried Adrienne. The house that you are so eager to get rid of is Veronica’s last connection to her dead sister. I think it’s perfectly logical that she is emotional.”
His lips thinned, so at least he looked chagrined. “Of course. I get that. But her emotions are clouding her judgment. I mean, this whole delay in putting the house on the market so it can be updated. I’m at the point where I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of the sound of saws and hammers. We need to finish this endless renovation now, send the workers home, and list the house at whatever price you think is reasonable. I’m beyond caring if we don’t get top dollar. We just need to move on.”
I checked my temper, knowing that Veronica and I still needed to buy more time. Forcing a smile, I said, “Really, Michael—they’re almost done. Sophie says it’s a month—tops. And with the condition the house will be in when we put it on the market, I doubt it will last more than a day before multiple offers pour in. I have no doubt we’ll get more than asking. It’s always a hot market for historic Charleston real estate,especially for those properties that have already been renovated.” I gave him the reassuring grin I used for all of my publicity photos.
He was already shaking his head, but I moved in for the kill. “In the meantime, I’ve got an entire list of homes back at the office to show you and Veronica. It will take some time to find the perfect one, because you will want it to be your forever home, right? So let’s use this time wisely, and my bet would be that if we start looking now, we’ll have two closings in one day—one and done.”
He thought for a moment. “Has she... said anything to you?”
“Who—you mean Adrienne?”
He nodded, looking embarrassed. “Yeah. That’s what you do, right?”
I straightened my shoulders. “Actually, I’m well-known for being a Realtor with teeth. I make things happen for my clients. You just need to trust me and my process.”
I began rolling my half-eaten croissant in my napkin, preparing to end this conversation and get back to the office, but he put his hand on my arm, stopping me.
“So have you?”
I didn’t bother asking him what he meant. “No, I haven’t.” Which was true. Adrienne never spoke directly to me. She would appear and sometimes push me in the right direction, but she’d never spoken to me. Because I was convinced she was saving her strength for something I hadn’t yet figured out.
He dropped his hand. “If Adrienne... does talk to you, would you let me know first? Veronica is very fragile right now, and I want to make sure that I’m the one to couch it in terms I know she can handle.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you think Adrienne has to say that might upset Veronica?”
He shook his head, his expression contrite. “I have no idea. I just...” His eyes appeared to moisten, and I felt myself softening toward him. “I love my wife. She’s been through so much. When Lindsey graduates and Veronica is left alone all day, I don’t know what that might do to her mental health. That’s why I want to make this move now. So that wecan start our new lives while Lindsey is still living with us to help smooth the transition for Veronica.”
“I understand, Michael. I...”
He reached across the table and took my hand. It felt awkward, but I thought it might be more awkward to snatch my hand back, so I left it there. “But do you really?” His eyes held an unexpected anguish, and I felt myself softening toward him a little more. “Considering what’s going on in your own marriage, I’m not so sure.”
I pulled my hand back, my sympathy evaporating. “My personal life has nothing to do with my ability to do my best for my clients. Like I said, I’m asking for only one more month—a month to finish all of the renovations and for me to help you find your next house.”
He looked at me, considering. “And you’re sure it should be only a month?”
