by Amy Rose
“Angela, thanks for coming. Would you like a drink?” I sit down in the stool beside him, appreciating the sight of Elliot, in his suit.
“Thanks for offering, however I won’t be able to stay. I have some other appointments tonight so I will need to get going.” No need to tell him that those appointments included getting into my pajamas and watching a taped version of Fixer Upper.
I pull out the forms from inside my folder and slide them over to him. “You can scan and email these back to me later tonight or tomorrow if you like.” I zip my folder back up.
“I’ll do that. Thanks for dropping these off for me”.
I try to stand up. He leans forward, so he is only a couple of inches away from my face and places his hand on my forearm to stop me. The electrical current running from his palm to my arm feels like a live wire. I feel weak at the knees, so rest against the bar.
“Are you sure you can’t stay? Even for just one drink?”
My heart screams ‘YES’. I really want to stay. However after last night I need some space to ensure I don’t get drawn into the web that this incredibly handsome man was weaving. I can’t let myself get attracted to him. It would never work, especially with Elliot Sands. The longer I stay in this position, the more his scent intoxicates me. He smells so delicious, so masculine. What I wouldn’t give to lean forward the remaining couple of inches and take a whiff of his scent. Maybe I could pretend to fall forward. He would catch me, wouldn’t he?
“I do appreciate the offer, Elliot. However I really must go.” He releases my arm and leans back. With that I feel the fog lift, and with my head clearing I manage to stand without falling. “I’m sure we will speak in the coming days Mr. Sands. Remember, any questions at all, please contact me. I hope your flight is a pleasant one.”
He stands up beside me. “I’ll walk you out.” He collects the paperwork from the bar. Rolling it and holding it securely in his left hand, he follows me to my car.
Once we reach the same spot as last night I speak, “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks with the keys to your new home.”
He smiles in response, “I’m looking forward to that, Angela. I’ll see you soon” he collects my hand and lifts it, pressing his soft lips against the back softly and releases it all too quickly. I open the car and slide in, thankful for the separation the car provides.
I start the engine and wave as I pull the car out its space. Looking in the rear-view mirror, I see him still standing in the same spot, his hand raised in farewell as I merge into the traffic bustling past on the main road, commencing the drive home. The entire way is filled with thoughts of Elliot and the feeling his touch provokes, and the way his scent makes me feel. I know in that very moment that he has the ability to make me question everything I know. The question is, am I strong enough to resist him?
~ Chapter Ten ~
Tuesday morning arrives, and along with it comes another day of work. I do receive the paperwork from Elliot, albeit in a very neutral toned email:
Angela,
Please see attached signed forms as requested.
Regards,
Elliot Sands
CEO Sands PTY Limited
Is he pissed I didn’t stay for a drink last night? The tone suggests complete professionalism and yet I feel a slight tear in my heart. We were getting along so well. Wanting to forget about it as soon as possible, I push on with the many other items on my agenda today.
I phone the owners of the Belle Meade Homestead, who are incredibly happy with the full price offer. “Oh, Angela, that is fantastic news. Why don’t you go ahead and organize a closing for as soon as possible. Please no longer than six weeks.”
I smile into the phone, “Of course, Dawn. I will let the purchaser know for you now and get the ball rolling. Take care now.”
Once I have ended the phone call, I send Elliot a quick email to inform him of the good news, deciding against playing a tit for tat with the emotionless email that he had sent earlier, I choose to be both professional and friendly:
Dear Elliot,
I email you this evening to with good news and to congratulate you.
The owners of the Belle Meade Homestead have accepted your offer to purchase the property.
If you could please confirm the date you wish to close on the property, all being well, it is no longer than six weeks from today.
Feel free to call me if it is easier.
Congratulations again!
Warm Regards,
Angela White
Licensed Real Estate Agent Nashville Realty
After I have sent the email I proceed to tidy up for the day, packing away the many documents I have laying across my desk. As I pass Jenny’s desk on the way out, I pass on the good news, “The owners accepted the offer on Belle Meade. Just awaiting the closing date from the purchaser. Fingers crossed we hear back tomorrow.”
“That is great news, Ange” holding her hand out towards me in a clenched fist. I looked at it a moment before comprehending she was offering a fist pump. Once we connect I laugh.
“A fist pump, really? Good night Jenny.”
“We have to have some kind of celebration when you sell a property. A fist pump is as good as anything else. Have a good night, Ange.” I shake my head while walking away.
I arrive home, hungry and tired. I rifle through the freezer and find a serving of spaghetti bolognese. I place it in the microwave and set it to defrost. While my dinner is warming, I change out of my work outfit into my comfortable home clothes, which consist of faded sweatpants and an old, loose, black t-shirt. Then back to to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of lemonade.
Once my dinner is sufficiently hot for eating, I remove it from the microwave, sprinkling the top with shredded parmesan. I mix it through and take my first bite, burning the roof of my mouth. I quickly swallow some lemonade, put the fork back down, and give my dinner a little longer to cool off.
I check my phone while I am waiting, opening my emails. I see there is an unopened email received from Elliot. The time stamp shows it only came in a few minutes ago. I open it up:
Angela,
That is good news indeed.
I would prefer a closing of less than two weeks if they are agreeable. Please let me know as soon as possible.
I’ll transfer funds once all is confirmed.
Regards,
Elliot Sands
CEO Sands PTY Limited
A two-week closing is very short indeed. Fantastic for me: the quicker the closing, the quicker I get paid. It would also allow Elliot to come back to Nashville sooner, his email didn’t require a reply until I had confirmed the closing, however I already knew they would accept that. And more than that, I wanted to reply and have the last say, give him something to read next time he opened his email account:
Hi Elliot,
I’ll get everything underway for you tomorrow.
I believe the owners will agree to your request.
See you in a couple of weeks.
Warm Regards,
Angela White
Licensed Real Estate Agent Nashville Realty
After sending the email I place my phone back on the counter, scoop up my dinner and drink and flop down on the couch, nibbling on my dinner while watching the news.
Wednesday is the most productive day by far. The first thing I complete upon arriving at work is processing the paperwork necessary to move forward with Elliot’s purchase. Both parties’ attorneys are agreeable on the terms and agreement made, believing they could have it all completed by Wednesday next week. It’s amazing what can be done when the purchaser doesn’t need financing. Bank account details are provided to Elliot’s attorney to ensure the deposit and then the final amount will be received prior to closing.
I then submit the full-price offer for the two story home close to the city center on Johnson Street for Liam and Jessica. The owners are ecstatic with the news and accept the offer right away. They also authorize a four-week closing.
Before ending our phone call, they thank me wholeheartedly for my hard work and give me compliments on the short time frame it was listed for. They hadn’t dreamed of it selling at the first showing This makes me blush.
I open my email program, there are a few generic advertising emails directed at real estate agents to purchase flyers and for sale signs with your photograph, I send those directly to the trash and then I open the one from the Thompson family. The subject line reads Partridge Street,
Dear Miss White,
After much consideration, my wife and I have decided to make an offer on the property we viewed with you earlier this week on Partridge Street.
We would like to make an offer of $320,000.
If you could please contact me once you have spoken to the owners, it would be appreciated.
Please note we will be out of contact for two weeks due to a scheduled vacation overseas and will be checking our emails sporadically when service is possible.
Thank you,
Michael, Kimberley and Mia Thompson
They are making an offer. It is far from the listed amount of $350,000 but it’s still an offer. They are interested in the property enough to see themselves living there. I checked my watch and saw it was after 11:00 am, so I located Mrs. Jones in the sellers’ contact details and give her a call.
After fifteen minutes of conversation Mrs. Jones agrees to meet in the middle at $335,000 but that will be as low as they will go They want to sell the home, but they still want to walk away with a profit. “I will try my hardest to get you a little more than then $335 thousand, but I thank you for letting me know how low you would go. The prospective buyers advised me they will be in and out of contact over the next couple of weeks so it might be a little while before I get back to you, but I promise I’ll give you a call back as soon as I know anything further. Have a lovely day, Mrs. Jones.” I end the phone call and decide against phoning the Thompson family due to their vacation. Instead I hit reply on the already open email.
Good Morning Thompson Family,
Thank you for your email.
I have relayed your offer to the owners of the property on Partridge Street. I will email you as soon as I know anything further.
Talk with you soon.
Warm Regards,
Angela White
Licensed Real Estate Agent Nashville Realty
After hitting send, I stand up from my computer, walk to the office kitchen on my way to the conference room and make myself a cup of tea. I certainly don’t want to be late for the weekly sales meeting. I continue towards the meeting. Opening the door, I see a couple of my colleagues are already sitting around the large timber table that comfortably seats ten people.
I choose the vacant seat next to James Orchard. James is twenty-nine with jet black hair that stands up in all different directions. He wears a pair of black-rimmed, rectangular shaped glasses over his light blue, almost grey eyes. He is taller than me, which isn’t exactly an earth-shattering achievement. I would hazard a guess he stands at around five feet, eleven inches. He is very easy on the eyes, what most ladies would consider handsome. I certainly do, and best of all, he is such a happy person, he makes me smile whenever we’re together. Besides Jenny, James is the only other person at the office that I occasionally hang out with.
“Hey, Snow White, what are you up to this weekend?” I roll my eyes, he is the only one to use this nickname. He told me once that he came up with it due to my pale skin, black hair and, of course, my last name.
“Not much, James, how about you? Is there a forecast of you chasing a giant peach?” My nod to the book by Roald Dahl ‘James and the Giant Peach’, it was the best I could come up with. He gave me a small smile and laughed. Before he could respond, Sandra walked in.
“Okay, Sales Team, I want to congratulate everyone on the past month’s showings and sales,” she smiled at us all.
“Special mention to James who sold the property on Main Street and Angela who has contracts exchanged on both Belle Meade Homestead and Johnson Street.” There was a small, polite applause around the room from the other agents. James nudged me with his shoulder and held his hand up for a high five. I happily obliged, and our right hands connected.
Sandra cleared her throat and spoke again. “Now, as you all know, the state-wide awards dinner for sales agents is being held later this month, and this year it’s being held right here in our hometown. So, I would like all of you to attend, since we as an office have been nominated for several awards. There is also a possibility we might take home some individual awards, too. I will have Suzy send each of you a confirmation email with all of the details.” There was an excited murmur across the room between our two leading sales agents Max and Valerie, no doubt believing they were in with a shot of taking home an award. I turn to James, who rolls his eyes. I cover my mouth with my hand in order to hide my grin from the others.
Max and Valerie are both older agents, in their early forties. They have been in real estate for years and are Nashville locals. Max does a lot for children’s sports and Valerie has an ad running on television for twelve months of the year. I guess you could call them the big names in real estate here. However, I keep up with their sales without any of that, and with the sale of Belle Meade going through, I will have the highest selling property in this office. That will give them pause.
The rest of the meeting is spent discussing the remaining listings. I advise that an offer has been made on Partridge Street this morning with a negotiation made by the seller. Hopefully I can have this wrapped up soon and this sale will go through.
As we leave the conference room James pulls me aside into the kitchen. “I was wondering if you wanted to maybe catch the free concert down by the river this weekend? No major names are performing, but a few up-and-comers will be there.”
I react the same way I always do when he asks me out: I come up with an excuse. Quickly running through the ones I had used lately, I come up with a new one. “I’m not sure that I will have time. My parents might be flying in on Friday for a few days.” I hate doing this to him, he really is a sweet guy, someone who I could definitely take a chance on. I just wouldn’t forgive myself if I ruined our friendship.
“That’s cool. Family is super important. Maybe next time?” He takes a step towards the door.
“Sure,” I reply, hoping that it helps to soften the rejection.
When I am alone, back in the comfort of my own office, I close the door. James is really a wonderful person, someone who, no doubt, many women would jump at the chance to hang out with, and then date down the track. I, too, would have jumped at the chance to hang out with him more often, if it weren’t for the panic I feel when I am alone with any man.
Dylan really has screwed me up good. I need to find a way to move past this. I don’t want to be alone forever. But I’m not ready to commit to someone new. Most men these days are after one thing, and after my experience in this department, I’m not going to do that for anyone less than the man who will become my husband. The thought of marriage is ridiculous, really. I mean how will I ever get married when I refuse to date anyone? At this rate I’ll be a spinster to the end of my days.
Thinking about marriage makes me think of Liam and how lucky he is to have found Jessica. They are looking at dates early next year in the spring, nothing set in stone, though. I wonder if I will even have a date by then? Maybe I can invite James. At least I know we would get along and I wouldn’t be alone. Nothing worse than attending a wedding by yourself. Maybe if all goes well, it could possibly be the start of something between us?
“Ange, you there?” Jenny’s voice breaks through my daydream and back to the here and now.
“Yeah Jenny. What’s up?” I pick up my pen and hover over my notepad in case this is going to be a conversation where I need to take notes.
“I have the purchaser of Belle Meade Homestead, a Mr. Sands, for you on line three.” I drop my pen. I won’t need to write any notes for this conv
ersation.
“Thanks Jenny. Can you let him know I won’t be long?”
“Sure will, Ange.” The line goes dead.
Why is Elliot phoning? I click on my computer to wake it up from sleep mode. No emails. Next I rifle through my handbag and find my cell phone. No missed calls or text messages. There is only one way to find out. I picked up the receiver, steadied my breathing. and hit the flashing number three. “Angela White speaking.”
“Angela, it’s Elliot. How are you?” His voice sounds wonderful. After our polite emails earlier in the week, I decide that it would be best for him to lead the conversation.
“I’m well, thank you, Elliot. How about yourself?”
“I’m also well. I’m phoning about next week. I will be arriving in Nashville on Thursday to collect the keys. I wanted to check that you would be available in the afternoon?”
I flip open my diary that is lying on my desk, turning pages until Thursday’s date appears in front of me, “I have the afternoon free at this stage. I will ensure I’m in the office from 3:00 pm.” I quickly circle the time and write down ‘‘Elliot” by way of explanation.
“Ok great, I’ll call you once I land.” There is a pause. “Will you accompany me back to New York on Friday, Angela?”
“Huh?”
“We discussed you coming to New York, once all was settled with the house, to look over restoration plans remember? I was hoping to book the plane tickets when I book Thursday’s flight.” So this really is happening. He wants me to go back to New York with him.
I must have been quiet for too long “You still there?” Elliot’s voice comes through the phone.
“Yep, sorry. I was just looking at Friday’s schedule. I have a meeting that morning, but I should be able to get away by lunch. I need to be back Sunday night, though as I am filled up with appointments on Monday.” I thought this might be a deterrent, but I wasn’t having any such luck.
