by Sammi Franks
“Just that everyone from Seattle seems to think they know everything about everyone,” she continued, looking me in the eye as she said it. “And they look at us residents of Westport with pity. They feel sorry for us.”
“How can I feel sorry for you?” I asked her. “I don’t even know you.”
“No,” she agreed. “You don’t.” She looked down at her planner.
I noticed two silver picture frames on her desk facing her. Probably a boyfriend. There wasn’t a wedding ring. She looked like she was my age, maybe a few years younger, potentially divorced. Potentially had a kid. She didn’t look particularly happy, though the outfit she was wearing I instantly recognized as Ann Taylor. She had expensive taste. Classic, expensive taste.
I felt my respect for her increase slightly. For someone who clearly worked by herself, she was running a professional business.
Now that I allowed myself a chance to look at her - really look at her - I realized she was actually quite beautiful. Her red hair was swept into a high bun, bangs littering her forehead and dancing on the edges of her eyebrows. Her green eyes were vivid against her peachy skin tone, topped by painted brown lids and dark eyelashes, longer than eyelashes typically were. Her lips were pink and appeared soft, sensual.
She wore a purple silk shirt tucked into a form-fitting, high-waisted skirt. I couldn’t make out the rest of her outfit but I imagined nothing less than three inch heels on her feet, probably black.
“Are you done?” she asked when my eyes met hers.
I blinked, feeling my cheeks flood with embarrassment. I’d never had a woman make me feel that before.
“Done?” I asked.
She didn’t bother to hide the fact that she rolled her eyes. “Exactly,” she said. “Seattle.” She dropped the pen in her hand. “So, what type of property are you looking for. Let me guess - condo, two bedrooms, maybe three for an office, two stories, waterfront. The most modern property we have.”
I wanted any excuse to argue with her, any reason to tell her she was wrong about something, but I found that what she said was exactly what I wanted.
“Actually, yes,” I said, removing my hand from my pocket and extending it out. “My name is Max, Max Rogers.”
“Victoria Bell,” she said, gently placing her hand in mine, hesitating only a moment before she did so. “You must be Bodhi’s brother.”
I wrinkled my nose at that. Bodhi’s brother? I had never been referred to as Bodhi’s brother. Bodhi was my brother, not the other way around.
She stood up and I caught sight of her black stilettos, attached to a toned set of legs.
Victoria picked up her planner and strode to the door without looking at me. “Let’s go look at our options.”
4
Victoria
* * *
Max Rogers picked the wrong day to swagger into my office. Joe had chosen the wrong night to mess with me. And I’d come in to work on a day I should’ve stayed home. Penelope had cried for a good hour after the call ended, and I drank more wine than I should’ve after that. My ibuprofen had barely kicked in when Max burst through the door.
“Do you want to ride with me or follow?” I asked crisply, determined to be professional. This man has the ability to fund your life for a month, I reminded myself. Behave. I closed my eyes and prayed he’d follow.
“I’ll ride with you.” He shrugged.
Stopping mid-stride, I sighed. This was going to be a long day. I held out my hand as I turned to face him. “What if we start over? I’m Victoria, your new realtor. Let me apologize for being less than welcoming.”
“Is that what you call it?” Max rocked on his heels and smirked. “If I weren’t a gentleman, I’d have chosen a far more colorful descriptor.
I stared at him and blinked a few times. “Listen,” I grumbled, “I’m trying to play nice. I woke with a headache brought on by too much wine, caused by my ex-husband.” I huffed. “So, if you could be the first man in my life who doesn’t give me shit, that would be awesome.”
“And thus concludes the formal portion of our relationship.” His shoulders sagged and he held out his hand. “I’m Max. My father sent me to retrieve my younger brother, Bodhi, who is mostly the bane of my existence, the cause of countless sleepless nights, and the reason I took up kickboxing.” He leaned in conspiratorially as he clasped my hand and shook. “I may picture his face while I’m beating the crap out of the thing.” His eyes widened and he glanced down at our hands. “Nice grip. I like that.” He chuckled. “Oh, and you might want to try kickboxing some time too. So cathartic and much kinder to your liver.”
I stiffened. “Thanks, but I’ll stick to wine for now.”
Max glanced around and saw my Porsche Cayenne SUV. “This must be yours.” He walked over to the driver’s side door.
“You get in on that side.” I pointed to passenger side door.
“Yes, but I’m a gentleman…who curses a lot…and when I’m not swearing, I open doors.” He smiled and motioned for me to join him at my vehicle.
This was…new and unusual. Maybe having city people around wouldn’t be such a terrible thing if it meant they’d bring a little class to our town. I was tired of the beer-swilling, loud, arrogant, belching fisherman I usually ran into around the town. “Thank you,” I murmured as I walked to the door he opened as soon as I hit the button on my key fob.
Seconds later, he had shut my door, and joined me inside the vehicle. “I drove around a bit while searching for my brother. Even the most modern buildings appear to be…old.” The disappointment in his voice was obvious. “Is there no market for newer developers?”
As I drove down the street toward the coast, I considered his question. “Well, there aren’t a lot of people here who could afford anything nicer and newer. There haven’t been any developers who’ve tried to invest in our tiny town. Our biggest industries are fish, which include crab, of course. The cannery handles cranberries.”
“That explains the cranberry everything on the menus of various restaurants here.” Max chuckled. “Do you get many tourists?”
I stared ahead and pursed my lips for a moment. “Yes, in the summer, they come for various festivals. They like the quaintness of our town. They talk about how quiet and relaxing it is, even as they stir it up for the locals.”
“I’m sensing you don’t much like tourists.” He cocked his head to the side. “I’d think you’d be rather dependent upon them.”
I shook my head and my nostrils flared. “I depend on no one. I make my own hours. I show homes all over the state. This town doesn’t make or break me.”
Max nodded, but I could feel him studying me, mentally refuting everything I’d said. For some reason, I stayed here. If I was completely honest, I’d admit my weakness. There was a house on the cliff above the ocean. It used to be magnificent, a veritable mansion. I’d admired it for years, saved as much money as I could in the hope that one day I could buy it, renovate it, and live there, my own version of happily ever after. I’d accumulated over fifty thousand dollars when it stopped growing. Little did I know, Joe was skimming money. Then when I wasn’t paying attention, it disappeared altogether - with him. Now, Joe was no loss, but this felt like the death of my dream. And I’d struggled ever since, paying for child care, shortening my hours, and cutting back on my out-of-town showings. My dream seemed so much further away than it was even three years ago.
“Here we are.” I gestured to the row of gray two story condos angled toward the water. “Yes, they are several years old.” I was going to continue my spiel, but Max had hopped out of the vehicle and a second later knocked on my door. When I opened it, he reached for my hand. My brow arched.
“For fuck’s sake, Vicki.” He chuckled. “Take my hand and come show me this condo.”
I stiffened, but slipped out of my seat. Being called Vicki had rubbed me the wrong way ever since Joe started doing it when he was drunk. “Victoria,” I quietly corrected.
“Right.”
He grinned. “So, not Vickster, not the Vick-meister, not Vickolini?”
“Nope,” I responded crisply.
With a sigh, Max murmured, “I’m just teasing you, Victoria. Lighten up.”
“Oh, and do you find you’re wildly successful in your business when you’re being playful like this?” My eyes narrowed and my chin jutted out while I waited for his response.
He tugged at his chin seriously, obviously in thinking mode. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly before fixing his gaze on me. “I’ve never done it before.”
5
Max
* * *
I let my own admission sink in as Victoria led me into the first gray condo. She was right, in that it definitely was older, but the inside was surprisingly modern. A few years behind, sure, but doable. Livable. Especially if my goal was to make this a weekend home or, at the very least, rent it out for the summer.
“So,” Victoria began as she took a keychain filled with a variety of keys and proceeded to unlock the door her first try, “this condo is listed at two-fifty but I’m positive we can cut that down by at least ten grand. This place has been on the market for months and I know the seller is highly motivated.”
“Oh?” I pulled my eyes away from the off-white walls and dropped them to the wood floors. “Wants to get out of dodge?”
“More like wants to retire closer to his family,” she replied, her tone slightly disapproving of my judgment. “Marvin actually loves it here. He plays Captain Bart at our pirate festival.”
My brow shot up. “Pirate festival?” I asked. “Not that it’s any of my business, but you seem like the last person to attend a pirate festival, Vicki.”
Victoria clenched her jaw at my usage of her nickname, but I pretended it was a slip of the tongue. “Trust me,” she said, one hand on her hip, “if my daughter didn’t like pirates, I wouldn’t attend at all. Took her to Disneyland last year and she has been obsessed ever since the ride. Made me go on it seven more times.” She rolled her eyes.
I felt the corners of my lips twitch up as I watched her speak. For some reason, I could not get a read on Victoria. Typically, I figured out everyone I met in a few minutes or less. It was why I was a good son, a good brother, a good business partner, and a fucking good lover. But Victoria threw me off. Who wore Ann Taylor, drove a Porsche, but went to Disneyland? Not only that, but she attended pirate festivals and went on the ride seven times?
I remained silent, but let myself seriously consider this place. The living room was quaint, maybe a fourth of what my current living room was, but there was a fireplace, a mantel that would accommodate a flat screen, and enough room for a sectional couch and a coffee table without making it appear cluttered.
I followed a long hallway, stepping into a downstairs bathroom and then a closet to hang up clothes and umbrellas. It was surprisingly spacious.
When I walked into the kitchen, my eyes widened. It was huge, with a marble bar separating the dining room and the kitchen but which also housed a sink and drawers to store utensils and pots and pans. The kitchen surfaces were Carrera marble and the wood was dark oak.
Victoria followed me into the kitchen, but remained silent. She let me look at it myself, which I appreciated. I slid my hands into my slacks pockets and walked over to the sliding glass door to check out the backyard. There wasn’t much of a yard, but only because this condo was on the water.
I wasn’t going to lie, I wasn’t expecting much of a view, but I was sorely mistaken. There was a little dock in the harbor for residents who might own a boat. The sun made the surface of the ocean sparkle like glitter on a woman’s evening gown. The view instantly had a calming effect on me and I imagined myself coming home to this every night, after a long day at the office.
“What do you think?” Victoria asked. She quirked a brow, a small smile on her face as if she knew how I would react to this, even though I was doing my best to hide my impressions. “Breathtaking, right? Will is a talented guy.”
“Will?” I raised a brow. I didn’t like to admit that hearing her say another man’s name wasn’t something I liked which was ridiculous since I just met her and I had no claim on her whatsoever. And I didn’t even know if I wanted one. All I did know she was gorgeous.
“He’s the contractor who designed and built this place,” she said. “He actually did a lot of the houses and condos here.”
I nodded, pursing my lips.
I walked up the smooth oak stairs. Not one squeaked under my weight, something I was impressed with. The second floor was amazing; three bedrooms, a master with walk-in closets, an attached bathroom with his and hers sinks, and a Jacuzzi bathtub. The second room was two-thirds the size of the master, with a walk-in closet and views of the ocean, and the third bedroom was smallest of all, but would be perfect for an office. There were spacious linen closets in the hallway and another bathroom with only a shower rather than a bathtub.
By the time we finished, I didn’t think I wanted to see any more properties. I had never been one to believe in love at first sight, but after seeing this condo, I could admit that I stood corrected.
“You were awfully silent,” I noted, holding the front door open for her and allowing her to walk outside before I shut it behind us. “Aren’t you realtors supposed to tell your potential buyers square footage and dates and what type of wood the floor was made from?”
“You’re from Seattle.” Victoria smirked as we stepped through the manicured grass and over to her Porsche. “You know everything already. There’s nothing I could tell you. I wouldn’t want to waste my breath, or your time.”
I paused just before I opened the driver’s door for her, taking a moment to assess her mood. She had a look of annoyed disinterest on her face, but I could see the sparkles in her green eyes, whether she wanted me to or not.
“Touché, Vicki,” I said. “Touché.” Once I was in the passenger seat, I rubbed my hands together. “Where to next?” I asked.
6
Victoria
* * *
“Back to the office so we can write up your offer, I suspect.” I laughed cynically and started the vehicle while I waited for him to respond. When he didn’t argue, I knew I had him on the hook and pulled out of the community, driving back to my storefront on the main street.
“Well, I’m torn. First, you’re obviously the listing agent.” Max reclined against the console separating our seats and gazed at me. “I have a lot to think about. Even if I hire you, how do I know you have my best interests at heart when I’m the outsider? You and Captain Bart clearly have a bond.” His eyes danced with mischief and I had to admit I rather enjoyed it.
“I’d like to think I’m impartial, but I’m not going to lie, a man who can talk pirate to me will get me every time.” I giggled. “But seriously, you don’t want to lose this property. There’s nothing else like it in all of Westport.” I bit the inside of my cheek and hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Really?” He eyed me carefully. “You seem to have a little tell.”
“A tell?” My brow furrowed as I glanced at him.
“Yeah. You think I missed it.” Max shook his head. “I don’t miss much. I should’ve warned you, but I figured you’d pick up on it in time.” He sighed quietly. “And if I know anything, it’s that you are holding out on me.”
I looked away and pretended I was merely being extra-cautious about turning into the intersection.
“Still nothing coming. I’m pretty sure you’re just trying to avoid me.” He leaned past me. “Yup. Definitely safe to go. Office. I don’t have all day.” Max snapped his fingers and merely succeeded in raising my ire.
“Did you just snap at me like I’m some dog?” I glared at him.
He snickered. “Dogs are more obedient. I’d say cats are more your spirit animal.”
You need this sale, Vicki. Then I bristled. Now I was calling myself ‘Vicki?’ I hated this guy.
I stiffened. “Let’s just go back to the office.”
I’d spoken the words more crisply than I intended, but again I blamed Max. He seemed to be yet another man determined to bring out the worst in me. I set my jaw so hard, I could feel a tick start.
“Wow. You’re really angry now. You’re right. We’ll go back to the office. I’ll buy the condo. And then maybe you’ll like me again.” He shrugged. “Or maybe not.”
“What makes you think I ever liked you?” I muttered under my breath.
“I’ve been told I’m quite charming.” Max winked.
I laughed. “By gold diggers, no doubt.”
“You’re only after my money. What does that make you?” He countered, his chin jutting out.
Parking in front of the office, I turned off the vehicle and leaned toward him over the console. “A businesswoman. It makes me a businesswoman. Let’s not forget the truth of our relationship, m’kay?” I batted my eyelashes at him playfully. Appeasing him before he backed out was yet another part of my job.
“Of course, Vicki.” He patted my hand and it took everything in me not to pull away. “And then, after the closing, we can talk about those other properties.”
He exited the vehicle and popped around to open my door. I should’ve been happy to be earning such a hefty, easy commission. Instead, my heart was positively pounding and I was filled with a sense of foreboding. Somehow, this was going to impact my dream. I could feel it.
Once inside, I set to work writing up the contract. Much of it was simple, needing little discussion anyway. The rest of it…was what I dreaded. Max didn’t seem to notice my silence. Rather he’d decided to use this as an opportunity to conduct business, all within earshot.
“Bre, Max Rogers here. How are you?” He chuckled. “I’m doing well. Actually, I just purchased a place a few hours south of Seattle and I hoped I could convince you to come take a look. I need your expertise.” He laughed some more and I could tell he and Bre shared some secret jokes, which only served to make me all the pricklier.
