Page 43 of The Broken Heart Playlist
Kate:Then I have my mistrust to keep me company. We might not like each other, but we’re old friends.
Tess:It’s time to find some new companions. Hope. Trust. Happiness. Those are good friends to walk life with.
On Monday morning, I’m standing on the sidewalk outside Beth’s Bakery on Main Street when Janine materializes in front of me in a lime-green business suit.
“Great minds think alike,” she says cheerfully, eyeing the coffee in my hand. “I’m just about to grab a coffee to go.”
“Busy day ahead?” I ask her.
“I’m showing a few houses this afternoon,” she replies. “But my morning is pretty quiet.”
I smile at her. “Why don’t you get your coffee? I’ll wait outside for you and we can catch up.”
“Uh, sure, that sounds great.” She’s trying her best to conceal her surprise, but her thin eyebrows have climbed up her forehead. I’m not the type to invite casual conversation and she knows it. What she doesn’t know is that I have a few hours to kill before my pancake shoot today and I want to take advantage of this opportunity to finish the chat Janine and I began in the library regarding the sale of the house Gideon bought.
I scroll through my phone while I wait for her. When she returns, we stroll down Main Street, sipping our coffees.
“I would love to hear one of your food styling tricks,” she says.
“What do you want to know?”
“How do you prevent the garnish from sinking into the soup?”
“I place a ramekin upside down in the soup. That keeps the sprig of parsley or basil floating on top.”
She slants me an admiring look. “Simple, but smart.”
“Thanks.”
“By the way, I saw you and your sweet girl talking to Gideon the other day at Beth’s Bakery.”
I conceal my smile behind my takeaway cup. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to resist bringing up the subject of Gideon Walker.
“It was a nice surprise to bump into him,” I say. “We chatted for a bit and I asked him how he’s settling in to his new place.”
It should scare me how easily a lie can tumble from my lips.
Curiosity flickers across her heavily made-up face. “How is he settling in?”
“Pretty well, it seems.” I take a sip of my coffee, then I casually cast my line with its baited hook. “Hey, you sold Gideon his house, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Janine confirms.
“The sale happened fairly fast,” I comment idly.
She takes a slow sip of her coffee, leaving behind an imprint of her rust-red lipstick on the cup. She’s silent, but it won’t last. Janine’s a talker. It’s one of the reasons she’s such a successful real estate agent. “You know, I really shouldn’t say anything.”
I keep quiet, because I know she’s dying to say something. It’s the right strategy. My silence seems to invite the outpouring.
“The whole thing was a little strange,” she tells me. “The Martinez family had no intention of selling. Their house wasn’t even on the market, but Gideon made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”
“He did?”
“Oh, yes. It took me by surprise. It was an unbelievably generous offer,” she emphasizes. “Way more than the house was worth.”
I turn this over in my mind. Another data point to indicate that Gideon Walker is an extremely wealthy man. Yet, apart from the Rolex, neither the man nor his lifestyle conveys the impression of wealth.
“There was something else that was also peculiar,” Janine adds. “Gideon wanted to move in as soon as possible, so he paid for the Martinez family to stay at a hotel while they looked for another home.”
