The sisters exchanged glances, and Britt bit her bottom lip. “We kind of don’t have a choice.”
“None of us can afford to buy the house alone,” Phee explained.
“And we sure don’t want to live here together,” Joanna joked.
“Right. We had enough of that growing up.” Britt’s voice wavered even though her eyes said she was teasing. “But I do need a place to live. I moved out of the dorm when Mom …” Her voice trailed off and her bottom lip quivered.
“Yes, Phylicia mentioned that,” Quinn said. “Unfortunately, decent apartments are pretty scarce, even in Cape. Until school’s out in the spring.”
“Yes, and most of them charge a fortune if you have pets.” Britt’s pout was back.
“So, you’re the one taking Melvin? I didn’t realize there was a cat involved when I started checking places. But actually”—he opened the folder he’d brought—“one option I wanted to show you would solve that problem. Not that Melvin’s a problem …” He slid the faded silk-flower centerpiece to one side and scooted the open folder closer to them.
As one, the sisters bent their heads over the papers.
“What is this?” Phee looked at what appeared to be a real estate listing. “Jo and I have apartments. And I don’t think Britt’s in the market for a house … are you, sis?”
“No, I think an apartment would be better. Something close to campus in case I can start back next fall.”
Quinn tapped the folder. “This is actually three houses. And not too far from campus.” He looked dubious.
Phee shook her head, wanting to dismiss him quickly. “Why would we want three houses?”
“Let me explain.” He turned to the second page of the listing sheet and creased the corner where it was stapled.
Maybe he was getting a commission if he could sell them on this property or something, but either way, this was a waste of his time and theirs. Besides, if the photos were any indication, these houses appeared to be way beyond fixer-uppers.
Tearer-downers was more like it.
Quinn took a fortifying breath. This was going to be a harder sell than Turner had implied. But Quinn had promised his boss he’d at least make the presentation. He held up a hand. “Hear me out, okay? And then if you’re not interested, I promise I won’t mention it again. And—full disclosure number one—I’ve already talked this over with your dad, and the idea has his strong approval.” He looked from one to the other around the table, trying to gauge their enthusiasm. A strong zero. Maybe minus two.
But they waited politely, so he continued. “Here’s the deal: This property has been on the market for over a year. To be honest, our company considered buying it at one point for a company retreat, but they ultimately decided we were spread too thin as it was. And with the layoffs last summer, it didn’t seem wise to be talking about retreats.”
He studied the three sisters. He still had their attention, so he plowed ahead. “Anyway, that’s how your dad first became aware of it. But, like I said, it’s been over a year and the owner is getting antsy. He recently lowered the price pretty significantly. It’s a beautiful piece of property. The address is Poplar Brook”—he scratched his head—“Road, I think … I forget the number.”
“Poplar Brook Road?” Phylicia shook her head. “I don’t think I know where that is.”
“It’s on the north edge of town just inside the city limits. There are only a couple of other homes with that street address. At one time, years ago, this place was listed as a waterfront property, since it’s technically on a small tributary of the Mississippi.”
Britt’s forehead wrinkled. “So, what changed the waterfront part?”
“Apparently, in recent years the tributary has become more of a mud hole. It’s not reliable year to year for fishing or canoeing or kayaking. All the things that would have people snapping it up. That, and the fact that it’s a little too close to town for most people looking for that kind of property. Hence, the drop in price. Even so, the place is wooded with hundred-year-old trees shading the site, and there’s a gravel drive.” He gave a little laugh. “I’ll be honest, if this had been on the market when I was looking for a place to build my house, I would have snapped it up.”
“So you finally built that house you used to talk about?”
He was pleased Phylicia remembered. “I did. Well, correction: I’m in the process of building. For about four years now.”
Britt’s eyes grew wide. “Wow, it must be a big house.”
He laughed, then cringed. “Actually, it’s on the small side. But I’m doing all the interior work myself. It’s slow-going when I only have evenings and weekends to work on it.”
“At least you’ll know it’s done right,” Joanna offered, sounding so much like her dad, Quinn couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, you’d hope so. The jury’s still out.” He held up the listing papers. “Back to your property though … The grounds are a little overgrown, but nothing a Bush Hog couldn’t make short work of and—”
“Wait … But you would have built there?” Joanna’s expression said her interest was piqued—or at least her curiosity. “I thought there were houses still on the property.”
According to Turner, Joanna was the one who’d have the legal mind for the deal. He trained his gaze on her. “There are. Three small cottages. Sorry it’s taking me so long to get to the point, but I want you to have all the details.”
“No problem,” Joanna and Britt said in unison.
Phylicia took a sip from her water glass but remained silent, so he aimed his pitch at the two younger sisters—even though he was pretty sure it would take all three of them investing to make this work.
“What I meant to say is that the houses are still there. Your dad and I looked all three of them over for another client last summer, and—at least as of a year ago—the houses were in fairly sound condition. Good condition even. They’re stone cottages that were built probably in the thirties or forties, so they’re built solid. They don’t make houses like these anymore.”
“But they’re old too,” Phylicia countered.
“True. Now, the largest one has had some remodeling done in recent years”—he chuckled—“probably not to your taste, I admit, but it’s livable. And the last inspection said electric and plumbing are up to code in all three units, so everything in the two smaller homes is cosmetic. But … it is everything—flooring, paint, some pretty hideous wallpaper that probably needs to be stripped—”
He stopped. All three women were shaking their heads. Frowning. He’d lost them. On wallpaper?
He forced a laugh but felt deflated. “Okay, I get it. Not your thing. I had to try.”
Phylicia tilted her head. “We really do appreciate the thought, but I don’t know what we’d do with three fixer-uppers. You must have misunderstood Dad.”
He took a deep breath and held up a handful of fingers. “Can you give me five more minutes to make my case?” He had to be able to tell Turner that he’d given it his best shot. Not that he was conning the girls. It was a good deal, a good opportunity—for the right party. Turner had thought it might be right for his daughters. Quinn had been skeptical. Not about the property. He’d been skeptical the sisters were the right party. And rightfully so, it appeared. He’d be sure to thank Turner for making him look like an idiot next time he talked to the man. “Just five minutes, and then I promise I’ll drop it.”
Phylicia smiled, but she checked the time on her phone. “Five minutes. You’re on the clock.” He couldn’t tell whether she was kidding.
“Okay, full disclosure number two: your dad and I have run some numbers, and even if you three went in at full price—given the new reduced asking price—there would still be enough money left for our company to come in and do the work. It’s not really contracting work … well, unless you decide to do some major remodeling. But we’re in a position right now to take on some smaller jobs, so we could get a crew in to do the flooring, paint, change out the applia
nces, whatever else you want to do.”
Phylicia’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. Dad talked to you about us buying this property? Are you—and Dad—suggesting we buy these three houses to live in ourselves?”
“Well, you could do that. It would still be a good investment of the money you’re getting from your mom.” He cringed inwardly. He was pretty sure Turner had told the girls about Myra’s inheritance, but his boss may not have intended Quinn to reveal that he himself knew about it. “I hope you don’t mind that your dad shared that information with me.”
Tentative nods from all three, so he continued. “Anyway, you’d own the homes free and clear, including the renovation—unless you do some really extensive upgrades. So you’d never pay rent or a mortgage payment. Your only real expense would be the property taxes and eventual upkeep. And if you ever decided to sell, you’d easily make your money back. Or, if only one of you moves, the others could either buy you out, or at the very least, you’d have the luxury of choosing your neighbors.”
Joanna gave her younger sister a playful shove. “Could you live all alone in one of those houses, Britt? If we were your next-door neighbors?” Her question seemed tongue-in-cheek, and the sisters laughed at some joke Quinn didn’t get.
“It depends.” Britt narrowed her eyes and turned to him. “How far out in the country did you say this property is?”
“It’s practically on the Langhorne city-limits line. But that’s the beauty of it. There’s already a well on the place, so your water bill will be next to nothing. Yet, you’d be five minutes from anything in town, and still less than fifteen minutes to Cape Girardeau. And that’s important for the next thing I want to propose.” He glanced at Phylicia. “How am I doing on time?”
She smiled, her crystal blue eyes twinkling. “You still have a couple minutes left.”
Her smile reminded him of how dangerous this whole plan could turn out to be. A danger Turner Chandler knew nothing about, and one Quinn dared not think about until he’d pled his case with Turner’s daughters.
“Okay. You guys are familiar with VRBO—vacation rental by owner—and Airbnb?”
Britt frowned. “You mean where people rent out their homes, kind of like a bed and breakfast?”
“Exactly. There’s a huge need in this area for something like that. I was talking to Link Whitman the other day—he manages the Chicory Inn just outside of Langhorne—and he said they are booked solid most of the year, especially around the holidays. And people book a year or more in advance for college graduation. You can’t find a vacancy in Cape Girardeau during big events like that, so people are always looking to stay nearby in Jackson or here in Langhorne.”
“So you’re proposing we open a bed and breakfast?” Phylicia sounded incredulous. “Where did Dad get that crazy idea?”
Quinn bit the inside of his cheek. “Uh, from me, actually.”
“I don’t know … Sounds like a lot of work.”
“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be. But I think it would solve a lot of your problems.” He had promised to shut up if they weren’t interested after hearing the proposal. In a last-ditch effort, he counted off on his fingers. “First, it’s a great opportunity. This property is kind of a best-kept secret. I think if you saw it, you’d understand. Second, it would be a sound investment of your money. Not only will it give you all a place to live rent-free, but the value is sure to appreciate once—”
“But if it’s sure to appreciate, then why is it still on the market after a year?” Joanna’s expression had turned doubtful.
“That’s a good question. Personally, I think it’s been purely a failure of marketing. The property itself is small, only about eight acres. And who wants to buy three houses at once? Unless someone planned to tear down all the homes and build new, it really didn’t make sense. And frankly, I think the houses are too nice to tear down. In addition, the owner was originally asking almost twice what the price is now.” He paused. “I truly don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you, but I think that place will get snapped right up once people realize how much he’s come down on his price.”
Phylicia frowned. “So not only do you want us to quit our jobs, buy three fixer-uppers, and open a B&B, but now you’re saying if we don’t hurry, the opportunity will be lost?”
He laughed. “I know it sounds a little on the crazy side. But hear me out … Back to my list.” He tapped his third finger. “Third of all, I never said you’d have to quit your jobs. In fact, I wouldn’t advise it. Not right away at least. Not until you see what kind of income this generates.”
Phylicia’s frown deepened. “I don’t get how it will generate income. If we’re renting it out, we’d have to keep our apartments, right? I mean, if the place is going to be ‘booked solid’ like you said.” She chalked quote marks in the air with pink-manicured fingers. But at least now she was smiling.
“Well, there are several ways you could do it. Some people only rent out a bedroom or a suite—a room with a private bath. Of course, you can charge more for a whole-house rental. But there’s a whole culture of people who love this kind of experience. And they’re not expecting hotel-perfection.”
Britt giggled. “That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah, Britt …” Joanna made a goofy face. “Your job will be cleaning the bathrooms.”
More giggling and another joke that went over Quinn’s head. He’d grown up with a brother, and he supposed he and Markus had once had their own private jokes stemming from childhood, but these three were practically communicating telepathically.
He chose to ignore them and got to the punch. “What I’d propose you do is live in the larger house while you renovate the other two. I’d guess—if you’re willing to do some of the work yourselves—we could … you could have one house ready to let within five or six weeks. Well, at least ready to decorate. It might take a few weeks beyond that to be booking-ready.”
Joanna glanced past Phylicia to the dining and living rooms, looking thoughtful. “Dad said we could have any of the furniture he’s not taking, which is most of it. I bet there’s enough here to furnish three houses …”
“Joanna Chandler?” Phylicia’s eyes went wide. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?” She turned to Quinn. “Dad always said you were persuasive, but this is just … a little crazy. And a lot out of the blue.”
“Think about it, Phee.” Joanna’s voice took on a cajoling quality. “It really would be a good investment. Something that could make us all some extra money and save us having to pay rent.”
“You’ve always said you couldn’t wait to decorate your own house, Phee.” Britt shot Quinn a conspiratorial look. “Here’s your chance.”
“Britt! Not you too!”
He risked getting one last score with the youngest Chandler. “And don’t forget, this would solve your problem about what to do with Marvin.”
Britt laughed. “Melvin, you mean? But you’re right. I wouldn’t have to worry about finding an apartment that allows pets if we did this.”
Phee turned to Quinn, an apologetic smile on her shapely lips. “Could you give us a minute, Quinn? In private? We sisters need to discuss—before I have a mutiny on my hands.”
“Aye, aye, captain. I need to take a look around the yard for your dad’s listing anyway.” Trying to look appropriately sheepish, he started for the front door. “I’ll be outside if you have any questions.”
Phylicia might be a holdout. But he had a feeling he’d made some serious inroads with two out of the three.
Chapter 5
Phee looked out the kitchen window to the backyard where Quinn was measuring the patio, jotting notes on a small pad. She turned to her sisters. “Are you two actually entertaining this idea?” But Phee could tell, before her sisters even opened their mouths, that they were considering it. Seriously.
And she had to admit she saw the appeal. Yet with serious misgivings. “You guys, we haven’t even seen the place yet. For a
ll we know, it’s a total money pit. Three money pits!”
Joanna shrugged. “If it’s a dump, we walk away. But what can it hurt just to look? Quinn seems to think the property has potential. And Dad apparently does too.”
“But, Jo, this isn’t something we’ve ever, in our wildest dreams, even talked about. I don’t get why Dad would encourage this. And you heard Quinn. We’d have to live together in the same house for a while. I love you guys, but I don’t know that I want you for roommates.” She forced a grin.
“It’d just be for a while. How’s that any different than what we’ve been doing these last few days?” Britt looked so hopeful—like a kid on Christmas morning—that Phee caught a glimpse of why Mom and Dad had always had so much trouble saying no to their youngest.
Phee frowned. “But if we each move into our own house, what are we supposed to rent out?”
“There are two bedrooms in each cottage, possibly three in the bigger one.” Joanna counted on her fingers. “That’s the beauty of the Airbnb rentals. You can rent out the whole place or just a room. And it’s not like we’d have people staying every night. When we do have guests, we can all pile in at each other’s places.”
“And what if it’s a rip-roaring success and we book every room every night?”
“That would be great, but probably unlikely. Cape Girardeau isn’t Waco.” Joanna kicked into lawyer mode. “See, we choose how many rooms and how many nights. Total freedom to make it work with our schedules. And even if we rent just one eighty-dollar room a night, that would add up. Two rooms a night, and one of us could retire.”
Britt raised a hand. “I volunteer!”
Phee cast a sideways glance at her little sister. “Um, excuse me, but you can’t retire if you’re already unemployed.”
“Hey!” Britt affected a pout. “That hurts.”
Phee did some quick math, and she had to admit the numbers were encouraging, especially since they wouldn’t have a mortgage on the property. Or apartment rent to pay. And it wasn’t like they’d have to quit their jobs to run the place.
Reason to Breathe Page 4
