by Stacy Finz
“Nothing. I’d hoped a cattle company would be interested in it, but it’s a huge investment. And with the drought, people are culling their herds, not looking to expand. At least we’ve managed to temporarily lease the property to a rancher from the valley who’s trying to fatten up his cattle on whatever grazing land he can find.”
Until moving here, Dana had never sold agricultural land. With no knowledge of farming or animal husbandry, she’d become a quick study. “Grace, if anyone comes through here who’s interested, let ’em know Ray is motivated.”
“I bet he is.” Grace made a face. “According to Owen, he’s pretty much signed over everything he owns to his legal team.”
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 the Nugget 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
When Aidan got home on Tuesday he went straight from the firehouse to his new home. He hadn’t had a chance to call Dana to make sure everything had gone well with the movers. In fact, he’d barely had time to breathe. North of Susanville, two morons—brothers—had set their farmhouse on fire, hoping to collect the insurance money.
The old place had gone up like a bonfire. The flames spread, burning four hundred acres of forest and ranchland, destroying six structures, and injuring three firefighters. After an extensive investigation, the police hauled the brothers in and locked them up on arson charges. Dingbats, the both of them. They were just lucky no one had died.
The driveway was empty, so Aidan pulled his Expedition in and got out into the blazing heat. It had to be at least one hundred degrees today. The first thing he planned to do on his days off was get a portable air conditioner for the house. Unpacking could wait.
He unlocked the door, stepped into the living room, and staggered back. The whole room had been arranged, including his pictures. The walls had been painted a pale gray that matched the dark gray sectional and the blue zebra rug. She’d hung some kind of fabric shades that scrunched up over the windows. Sue had picked out the furniture, but he had to say Dana seemed to have a better knack for putting it all together. Before leaving for Chicago, he’d suggested that Sue take everything. She’d declined, saying she wanted to sta
rt from scratch with her new man—the one she was marrying this weekend.
He popped his head in the kitchen, which had been freshly painted, and someone had stenciled a rooster and the word “Bistro,” on the wall next to the table, which had been set with colorful placemats—not his. The house had gone from plain Jane to stylish in four days. He’d give it to Dana; she got shit done. It looked like all his kitchen stuff had been unpacked.
His bedroom was also arranged, the bed made, and some of his clothes hung in the closet. Boxes filled with his winter clothes, underwear, and sports equipment had been stacked along the wall. He’d have them unpacked in no time.
In the bathroom, she’d hung a new shower curtain. Something neutral, not too girlie, which he appreciated. She’d made two stacks of towels. He knew which stack was his because she’d fastened little chalkboard signs to the shelf with their names. Just like grammar school.
He went back in the kitchen and stuck his head in the refrigerator. The bottom shelves were packed with food. His shelves were bare. Well, he couldn’t expect her to shop for him too. Out of curiosity, he checked the pantry. Again, the bottom shelves were well stocked, and she’d filled the top shelves with Calloway candy. There had to be at least a dozen different kinds. He stuck the chocolates in the fridge and opened a tin of caramels, popping three in his mouth. Damn, they were good—and unexpectedly salty. He looked at the package. “Made with the finest sea salt,” it said.
Hmm, good idea, he thought. It cut the sweetness. But he needed real food and decided to hit the Nugget Market as soon as he found an air conditioner. First, he needed a shower. On his way to the bathroom, he couldn’t help himself from peeking inside Dana’s room. Everything matched. The walls, the bedding, the window coverings. She must’ve worked around the clock.
Aidan shut her door, stripped down in the bathroom, and jumped in the shower. He’d left his toiletries at Sloane and Brady’s, so he’d have to forgo shaving. After four days away, he’d gotten pretty scruffy. He used Dana’s soap and shampoo and hoped she wouldn’t mind. There’d be no way to hide it because he smelled like her. Peaches and vanilla.
He dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and headed to his bedroom when who should he meet coming down the hallway but Dana. She got one look at him and covered her eyes with her hands.
“Sorry, sorry. Oh God, I just knew this would happen.”
“What?” he said. “It’s not like I’m naked.”
“Well, you may as well be.”
“You’ve never seen a guy’s chest before?”
“Of course I have.”
He had a good mind to flash the rest of himself. Instead, he took his sweet-ass time walking to his room. “I know you’re looking.”
“No, I’m not.”
He heard her door bang shut and smiled. The lady was a prude. Aidan shuffled through the boxes until he discovered the one he wanted, sifted through the contents, found underwear and cargo shorts, and tugged them both on. He shoved the rest of the stuff into his dresser drawers. In another carton, he found his T-shirts, pulled one over his head, and unpacked the rest. Two boxes down, ten more to go. They could wait till later.
He found a crate of tennis shoes stashed in the closet and put them on without socks. Too hot. In the kitchen, he found Dana making a sandwich.
“The house looks great, like a freaking model home. Thanks for doing all this.” He looked around the kitchen, noting her little touches everywhere. Matching towels hanging from hooks near the sink. A big bowl of fruit on the counter. She’d even put a list of emergency numbers on the refrigerator. “To repay you, I’m gonna install us some sort of cooling system, even window fans if that’s all I can find.”
She lifted the hair off the back of her neck, and for some reason, he found it sexy as hell. “That’s great because it’s been so hot in here I can’t sleep at night even with the windows open. This is pretty unusual for the Sierra. Typically, it cools down in the evening. Where do you plan to go?”
“I don’t know. Is there a big hardware store around here?”
“Reno has the biggest ones. But you could try Mountain Hardware in Clio. We could call first.” She grabbed a phone book out of a drawer. Yep, she was that organized.
He used his cell to call, and while he waited for someone to answer, asked Dana, “Slow work week?”
“Are you kidding? I sold two places. One, a farm on the outside of town to this really great couple who raise sheep and alpacas.”
A man from the hardware store came on the phone and Aidan paced around the small kitchen, telling him what he needed. He signed off and said, “They’ve got a couple different window units. I say we get one for every room.”
She blinked up at him. “That’ll cost a fortune.”
“Nah.” He shook his head, then noticed the back door had a screen and opened it. “We don’t need one for the kitchen, just the living room and two bedrooms. I’m paying, anyway.”
He watched her cut her sandwich in half and his stomach growled.
“You want one?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. I need to go to the grocery store and stock up.” He was off for four days, unless he got called out again.
“Help yourself.” She motioned at the bread, deli meat, and cheese. “There are sodas and waters in the fridge. Chips in the cupboard.”
“Thanks. And thanks for the candy. The caramels rock. So you sold two places, huh? Is that a normal week?”
“There is no normal in real estate. But it’s been good this summer so far. The second place I sold was in Sierra Heights. These people had been considering a place there since winter. I think the guy did well in the stock market and finally broke down. It’s a good sale. How ’bout you? I heard about the fire on the news. Those brothers really thought they’d get away with torching a house? Who does that . . . I mean, besides accidentally?”
Aidan smiled. She’d probably never live down leaving that candle burning. “It’s more common than you’d think.” Professional arsonists were smart and good at covering their tracks. Luckily, the brothers were neither.
They sat down to eat, and Aidan noticed she was wearing a navy skirt, matching blazer, panty hose, and high heels, like Brady had described. “Aren’t you hot in that?” He liked her better in jeans. They showed off her ass, and on a scale of one to ten, Dana’s ass was off the charts. But he supposed this was more professional.
“I was thinking of going back to the office, but I’d rather come with you to the hardware store.”
“Sure. What do you need?” Sue had always hated anything having to do with home repairs.
“Nothing I can think of right now, but I always find stuff when I’m there.”
He grinned. “Yeah, me too.”
“I’ll just finish lunch and change.”
They ate together at the table. For dessert he broke out some of the chocolates and Dana started doing the dishes.
“I’ll get ’em,” Aidan said. “You go change. I’d like to get this done while I still have a second wind because pretty soon I’m gonna need to crash.”
“A lot of long hours?”
“Yeah. But now I get time to recoup.”
“It’ll only take me a few minutes to be ready,” she said.
Aidan highly doubted it. He had a sister and had had plenty of girlfriends. He gave her thirty minutes minimum. But true to her word, she came out of her room in less than ten, wearing a little sundress that showed off a good deal of skin. And cleavage. Dana had more on top than he’d originally thought. Pretty legs too.
“That’s better.” It took him a second to realize he’d said it aloud.
“Pardon?”
“I just mean you’ll be cooler now.”
She looked a little self-conscious. “Grace Miller from Farm Supply gave it to me. I wouldn’t ordinarily wear something like this, but I lost all my clothes in the fire.”
If the clothes had even remotely resembled the suit she’d just been wearing, A
idan thought the fire did her a favor. “Why, you don’t like the dress?”
“I do. I just don’t think it’s me.”
“You want me to be one hundred percent honest? The dress is hot on you.”
Her face flamed like a four-alarm fire. “Okay, let’s not talk about it anymore.”
“It’s up to you, but most women like being told how hot they are.”
“I’m not one of them,” she said, and walked out of the house and climbed up into the passenger side of his SUV.
He followed her and cranked the AC as soon as he started the engine. “How do we get there?”
She gave him directions and they drove in silence until they reached the highway.
“Griffin must be happy about the house you sold. Jeez, the homes on both sides of my sister’s place are vacant.”
“I’m working on that,” she said, seeming to perk up now that they were talking about real estate. Aidan couldn’t help but notice that her nipples had also perked up from the air-conditioning. “Little by little we’re getting more interest, especially since prices in Tahoe, Truckee, and Glory Junction have gone through the roof. So what’s going on with your condo?”
“Unfortunately, not a damn thing.”
“Maybe you’re asking too much.”
Aidan had already slashed the price twice. “According to my agent, we’re good.”
“Is it an undesirable neighborhood?”
“It’s a great neighborhood. But the place is only one-bedroom.”
“Ah,” Dana said. “One-bedrooms can be a tough sell.”
Yeah, that was what Sue had said when he’d bought the place. At the time, he’d been planning to live there alone. Upon deciding to go back to school to become a teacher, she’d asked to move in to save money.
