Dying to Sell

by Maggie Sefton

  "For you? Awesome."

  Not the response I'd expected. "Well, I just thought it would be useful. You never know." I had not mentioned my close encounters of late. Jeannie's protective instincts would < go into overdrive, and she had enough on her mind as it was.

  "Yeah. Good idea. Uhhh, let's see. Well, there's that Karate place on Prospect, and then there's the Kung Fu place. And Tae Kwon Do. Gee, Mom, you're going to have to decide which one you want. There are so many styles of defense. You might want to go visit the classes and see for yourself."

  Obviously, this venture would take longer than I thought. I'd better make some phone calls and get schedules and prices. Maybe I could start tomorrow. That way I would have something to show Ronnie. She'd ask me, for sure.

  I thanked Jeannie for her suggestion, then let her get back to work. Meanwhile, I enjoyed what was left of the autumn afternoon. Winter would tease us soon with early snow showers, followed by brilliant sunshine. For now, the scent of fall was in the air. I stared above my head into the canopy of yellow leaves and relaxed. Sam left his bone and appeared beside me, looking for a pat on the head. He rested his chin on my lap while I patted. All those anxieties and concerns I'd carried around these last two weeks could go on hold for a while. The brie was softening on the counter and the Merlot was breathing. The worries would wait.

  Chapter 14

  It was afternoon on Monday before I finally arrived at the office for the day. I'd spent the entire morning checking out martial arts instruction. Schools, academies, workshops, plain old classes—you name it, I was there. Starting at the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m. for the Early Bird Kickboxing class, I fortified myself with extra strong coffee and headed to the nearby health club, the same one I frequented every morning at 6:00 for my regular workout.

  It was amazing how much harder it was to crawl out of bed a half-hour earlier than usual. Pure torture, plus it was darker outside. Daylight Savings Time was still in effect, even though the seasons were naturally turning. Pretty soon, we'd all experience that abrupt jolt of "falling back" as we adjusted our clocks backward. For a few brief days, early morning sunshine would welcome those of us who needed help prying ourselves out of bed. Then winter would steal even that slice of sunlight, as we slid into the Dark Time. I always found those dark days of December and January strangely peaceful, as if we were all sleeping, like seeds, ready to sprout forth again with the spring sun.

  I was astounded how many folks, men and women, were up and quite literally "at 'em" at 5:30 in the morning. I found a quiet perch in the corner of the wall-to-wall mirrored room, so I could observe without being a distraction. I never knew there were so many workout rooms scattered down the health club's corridors.

  It was a good thing. Nary a flaw could escape detection in this room. There were floor-to-ceiling mirrors everywhere just waiting to catch it. A pudgy thigh here, an ample rear there—all were on unforgiving display. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to go to work after such an assault to my self-concept every morning.

  Thankfully, the folks who frequented the "cardio room" with me every morning were focused, like I was, simply on getting their workout done with enough time to shower and change and rush to the office. Consequently, multi-tasking was ever present, as we went from elliptical trainers to treadmills to the weight machines. Handy plastic trays allowed us to read the morning paper and exercise righteously, while we kept an eye on the televised news and weather. Pretty we weren't, in our old sweats, mismatched shorts, and shirts, but we got the job done. Plus, we really couldn't see each other that well because we were always surrounded by equipment. We were either resolutely working out, hurrying to the next machine, or waiting semi-patiently for others to finish their sets so we could grab a turn. Wherever we went, we were camouflaged by metal, so we really couldn't get a good look at each other. Or, we simply didn't care.

  The folks in the kickboxing class, however, were positive fashion plates. Sleek, shape-defining body suits were the order of the day for most of the women. After I watched for a while, I could understand why. The various moves absolutely demanded freedom of motion. I did notice a couple of older women in the back who wore baggy sweats and tops, and they seemed to do everything that the more fashionable younger gals did. Good thing. Lessons were going to cost me, so I'd be damned if I would go shopping too.

  Fortunately, I was able to slip in a quick workout of my own before I hastened across town to watch ultra-fit university students attack each other in a Karate class, complete with sound effects. It wasn't clear if the loud shouts and grunts were used to psych themselves up or to scare off an attacker. I doubted that I'd remember to yell if someone jumped out at me, knife in hand, so I put a question mark beside that class.

  After watching the college kids, the combination Tai Chi and Kung Fu class for seniors seemed to be in slow motion. Of course, I had to admit I was fascinated with the Tai Chi elements and their sweeping movements. But I sensed the second part of the class was definitely aimed and modified for older participants. No scary attacks. No shouting. Sort of Kung Fu Lite.

  After another coffee refill, I rushed to Old Town to catch a late-morning Tae Kwon Do class, which was filled with young mothers. Watching them bending, stretching, stomping though the movements, I had to give them credit. I remembered the effort it took to regain the figure that child-bearing steals away. Hard work, indeed.

  By the time I pulled into the office parking lot at 1:00 p.m., I was mentally exhausted. And I didn't have a clue yet as to which martial arts routine I liked best. The Tai Chi came closest, but Ronnie wanted me to be able to defend myself from a "potential attacker," as she so charmingly phrased it. With or without stomping or shouting, I had to choose something.

  I straggled through the back door and headed for the kitchen and coffee, hoping Ronnie didn't spy me. I wanted to call a real estate agent friend in Denver and pump her for information. See if Rupert McKenzie attended the Metro Council meeting or not. A whole morning spent observing body blows had put a serious dent in my sleuthing. McKenzie was worth checking out.

  Lisa leaned around the kitchen corner as I was pouring coffee. "How'd the classes go?" she asked.

  I took a sip and hid my reaction to her efforts to create caffeine. "I haven't had any classes yet. I was just observing today."

  "Oh, yeah? Which ones?"

  I rattled off my litany of the classes I'd witnessed that morning. Leaning against the counter, I even added a few observations of my own. Two of my colleagues entered then, and added their impressions as well. I was amazed at the variety of experiences to be had. The almost-mesmerizing Tai Chi to the hothouse atmosphere of certain Yoga studios. Whoa. This could take longer than I thought.

  "Seriously, Kate, you should check out the studio on Lemay. They have all university students as instructors. Great guys. And cute, too," Brenda contributed with a sly grin.

  "I'm not sure cute is what I need, Brenda. I'm looking for a class I can enter without feeling like a total klutz. And those college kids looked ruthless this morning."

  "Got that right, Kate. Ruthless, that's us," Ben Babbitt teased as he checked out the plate of doughnuts.

  I had my back turned to the wicked temptations. It was lunchtime, and hunger was already calling. If I looked at them sideways, one would jump right into my hand, then into my mouth. Never could figure out how doughnuts managed that. Must be magic.

  "Did you ever try that stuff, Ben?" I asked, watching him choose a chocolate-glazed number. With his spiked blond hair and quick grin, Ben still looked like a student, even though he'd graduated five years ago. Those students were his clients now.

  "I did a little Karate in college, but couldn't get to all the classes, so I never did much," he said, after devouring half of the pastry. "I went back to running. Easier and quicker." He winked and the other half disappeared.

  "Man after my own heart," I said. "That's another thing that bothers me. Time. I really don't have any extra blocks I can allocate to fightin
g off would-be attackers. I mean, business keeps me running around now. I'd have to sacrifice another night; that's all I have left." I exhaled an exasperated sigh.

  Another night shot to hell. Not that my nights were all that exciting, but it was the principle of the thing. If I chose to spend an evening channel-surfing and reading with my dog at my feet or in wild debauchery, it didn't matter. Both required free evenings. Of course, I hadn't debauched in so long I wasn't sure if I remembered how, so I couldn't recall if it required one night or two, but what the hey?

  "Bummer," was all Ben said as he walked away, his voice revealing a young man's incomprehension at having free evenings. Ah, youth.

  Brenda and I glanced to each other and laughed softly, until another voice came around the corner.

  "Did I hear you ask about martial arts lessons, Kate?" Ted said as he headed for the coffee pot, mug in hand.

  "Yeah, I'm trying to find a style I can do without feeling or looking absolutely stupid," I confessed.

  Ted filled his oversized mug to the brim. "Then you should definitely check out some of our Kung Fu studios in town. We've got some great instructors."

  "Kung Fu, uh, is that what Jackie Chan uses in the movies?" I asked in my best impression of innocent ignorance. One of my best looks. It usually discouraged meaningful discussion, and I'd wearied of this subject already. How would it ever hold my interest for lessons? Besides, I wanted to call my real estate agent friend in Denver. Get back to what I was really good at—poking into other people's business.

  "Well, yes," Ted admitted with a genial laugh. "But—"

  "Oh, that's too scary!" I pretended a shudder. "He's always climbing up buildings or leaping over trucks, while he's fighting off bad guys at the same time. Not for me."

  "You go to Kung Fu flicks, Kate?" Lisa said as she aimed for the doughnuts.

  "Yeah, well, sure," I admitted with a grin. "What can I say? I have eclectic tastes in movies. Art films to action flicks. I like 'em all."

  "Cool." Lisa nodded before she sank her teeth into the sugar.

  I sensed I'd gone up in her estimation somehow. Go figure. Actually, I was trying to appear weirder than usual, hoping to eliminate the glint that appeared in Ted's eyes whenever he spoke to me. I wanted to head this off before it started.

  "Well, if you like those movies, you'll love our classes, Kate. They go through the history as well as instruction." Ted enthused as only a real estate agent can, when he spots a prospect.

  Damn. Outfoxed myself. Now he was even more encouraged. "That's okay, Ted. Don't bother—"

  "It's no bother at all, Kate. Come on over to the studio. I'll introduce you to my Sifu."

  "Your see-what?"

  Ted flashed his Real Estate Agent-of-the-Year smile. "My Sifu. It means Master Teacher. It's a sign of respect, since he's attained the highest level."

  I heard my exit line and grabbed it. "Sorry, Ted, but I don't think that would work for me. I'm such a rebellious wench, I cannot see myself bowing to some shriveled Yoda-like teacher."

  Lisa and Brenda both giggled appreciatively. Bless them.

  "He's nothing like that at all!" Ted's eyes were alight with the fire of persuasion. "He's a cowboy at heart. Young guy, too. Sometimes he even wears his boots to class."

  "Wow, sexy." Brenda pushed herself away from the counter. "Sign me up."

  "Who's sexy?" Melanie said as she passed us, arms filled with reports.

  "This new Kung Fu teacher at Ted's class," Brenda said, heading to her office. "Sounds yummy. I may sign up."

  Don't even go there, I told myself, watching Ted and my office mates laugh.

  Ted wiped his eyes. "So, how about it, Kate?"

  I pushed away from the counter and grabbed my briefcase. If I was lucky, I could get to my office and the phone—alone. "No, thanks, Ted. Just not my style. Sorry," I said as I headed down the hall.

  "Well, if you want to check out some other places, I'll be glad to give you some tips," he offered, falling in step beside me.

  Boy, he gave new meaning to tenacious. No wonder he'd made Real Estate Agent of the Year. "Thanks, Ted. I'll bear that in mind," I said as I dropped my briefcase on the desk. Scooping up the mail, I began sorting, hoping Ted would take the hint and leave. No such luck.

  "Do you have a few minutes now? I can give you a quick rundown."

  Now I knew how he made all those sales. His clients probably just gave up and gave in, in order to get him to quit talking. "Actually, Ted, I don't have a few minutes," I said. "I have to make a call to another real estate agent in Denver."

  "Got a hot deal cooking?"

  I took a deep breath and prayed for patience. Maybe meditation would help. This business was beginning to get to me. "No, Ted, I honestly wish I did. It's just some questions I've got about... about the Metro Council meeting last month. She always attends those, so I call her whenever I need info."

  Ted's smile spread from ear to ear. "I was there, too. What do you want to know?" And without waiting for my reply, Ted plopped into the adjacent client chair.

  With an effort, I kept my mouth from dropping open. Well, alrighty, then. I'd make use of Ted's need to dispense information. Now, what to ask first? "Really? That's real nice of you, Ted. Let me get my notebook."

  Digging into my briefcase, I pulled out my auto mileage notepad and paged through it while I sank into my desk chair. The numbers blurred as I formulated what I hoped were some reasonable questions.

  "First, I wanted to know if we had a good number of Northern Colorado Real Estate Agents attending. I've always believed we need to network with the Denver brokers. For long-term planning and all, you know."

  "Absolutely. You're preaching to the choir on that, Kate," Ted said, sipping his coffee.

  "So, who else attended that you know? I imagine you know just about everyone working in real estate in this area."

  Ted almost wiggled with my praise and began reciting names. I pretended to write down one or two, all the while waiting for McKenzie's name to sound. It didn't. After a moment, Ted paused and sipped his coffee, so I prodded.

  "Is that all? No one else that you remember?"

  "That's it, and like you said, I do know almost everyone."

  Tapping pen to pad, I pondered out loud. "That's strange. I heard that Rupert McKenzie was supposed to give one of the presentations. I was particularly interested in what he had to say. He's got such a... a unique business model, shall we say?"

  Ted chortled. "Yeah, we can definitely say that. Rupert's unique, all right. And you're right, he was scheduled to talk, but apparently something came up at the last minute. His secretary left me a message that he wouldn't be coming to the meeting."

  My heart quickened its pace. Ah-ha. A change of plans. Now, that was suspicious. Wondering if McKenzie's change of plans had anything to do with Mark Schuster, I asked Ted for a brief summary of the main talk. Ted cheerfully complied while I sorted through one strategy after another, all designed to find ways to grill Rupert McKenzie without being too obvious. Given my tendency for transparency lately, I decided I'd have to hide behind a client to do it. A plan formed just as Ted was sucking in wind.

  "Hey, Ted, that was great, thank you so much," I said as I sprang from my chair. Shoving pad and pen back into my briefcase, I scooted around my desk, talking all the way. Hopefully, I could escape in a cloud of words. "I appreciate that so much. Now I've got to run, see a client. Take care. Talk to you later." And I was down the hall before Ted cleared the chair.

  * * *

  As I drove along the lunchtime-crowded streets, I punched in another number. My first call had been to Rupert McKenzie's office to see if he was there or out at one of his building sites. I was prepared to track him down. Turned out, Rupert was prowling around his newest development. And lucky for me, all the model homes were open for showings. Perfect cover for questioning.

  The next number beeped and allowed me to access information stored in our electronic lock boxes. I wanted to check t
he Schuster listing. Any showings would be recorded by real estate agent ID number. There were none. Not a one. Darn. My elation at the large open house turnout was fading as each day passed and no offers came in. Not even a second showing was scheduled.

  I tabbed through the directory to a familiar number and called. I needed some cheering up, and a cover for the visit to Rupert's development. Marilyn could deliver both. At the sound of her voice, I tossed out the bait.

  "Marilyn, I'm only a few blocks from your place. If you agree to come with me for a couple of hours, I'll tell you all about this great new guy we've got in the office. Plus, he knows about Kung Fu. And his teacher wears cowboy boots. So, how about it? I'm turning into your neighborhood right now." My tactic was total bombardment: tease, but no details until she was in the car.

  "What? Kate? Where are you? Who's this guy?"

  "I'm driving up your street right now. No details until you're in the car. Do we have a deal?"

  "I don't know, Kate. I've got a bunch of stuff to sort through this afternoon. My desk is a mess."

  "Desks are supposed to be messy. Clean ones are scary. C'mon. I'll even stop for one of those Greasy Burgers. I haven't had lunch yet."

  A long pause. I knew I had her. When in doubt, Greasy Burger always works.

  "Okay, okay, you know I can't resist those. Let me grab my purse. And this new guy better be good. Where are you?"

  "Pulling up in front of your house right now."

  * * *

  Marilyn licked the dripping sauce from her pinkie before she took another bite of her burger. Although swathed in napkins from neck to lap, she still took daintier-than-usual nibbles, lest the delicious sauce spill on her new outfit. It was the only way she would agree to "eat as we drive." Meanwhile, the clock was ticking inside my head. Who knew how long Rupert would remain at the building site?

  "I don't know, Kate. Ted's done exceptionally well, from what I've heard. You might not want to discourage him," she said after swallowing.