Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) (17 page)

She shook her head.

“It’s less earnest money.”

“But it’s more than what we usually ask for.”

“What do we do about the fact that Beau’s offer is still here?”

“If you accept this one, we’ll specify that this one’s in second position. Then I’ll have you sign some paperwork to show Mr. James so he knows that, too.”

“Won’t that make him go away?” He peered over his glasses at her. “It’s what you want, isn’t it,
hon—for him to go away?”

Go away? Maybe his deal.
Sally’s words haunted her.
Maybe not him.
She forced herself to focus only on the business issue. “A second offer won’t necessarily make him go away, but it gives you an opportunity to sell the house even if he can’t get the permits on time.”

“Hmm.” He picked up a pen and started to whirl it. “But I like Beau—and his offer, and what George said. He showed me what he said they wanted to do. I saw the plans. Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, I know.” She riffled through the pages of the offer. “This offer’s only two percent under full price, Granddad. In your price range, that’s better than most people end up getting these days.”

“But Beau is giving me full price.”

“Yes, but he’s also making you wait eighty days for him to get those permits. That’s a long time, and we’re not even halfway through that waiting period.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’d rather I sell it to these folks, wouldn’t you?” The pen whirled again then fell to the table with a small clatter. “I don’t even know them.”

“You didn’t know Beau when I presented his offer. The only reason you know him is you talked to him—behind my back. You shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice rose. She sat back down and took her grandfather’s hand. “Look, I don’t want you to sign this second offer if you don’t want to, but I think it’s good to have a backup, in case Beau and George can’t get those permits and that zoning change they want.”

He sighed. “I see your point.” He picked up the pen. “How much time are you going to give him—Beau, I mean?”

“He still gets the same amount of time, but if he can’t get the permits, his deal is terminated. It’s contingent on them. That means his purchase requires that he get them, or he can walk. And if that happens, you can sell the house to the O’Hara’s. They sound like a very nice family.” She watched his mouth work as his eyes moved across the pages of the offer.

“Would you like some tea, Granddad? Let me make some.”

“Good idea. Give me a few minutes to think about all this.”

She went to the small kitchen and started the tea water. While waiting for it to heat up, she joined Bruce in his office. 

The agent who’d been working at Brown Realty since her father had started the brokerage was leaning back in his chair when Olivia entered, rubbing his bald spot. “Is your grandfather going to sign my offer?”

“I think so. The thing is, he likes the other buyer. He’s met him—went to his office without me.”

“I figured you would have warned him off doing something like that.”

“Yes, well … In a way it worked out. He saw a condo the other day that he liked a lot, which means he’s now looking forward to moving instead of viewing it as a necessary evil because his house and grounds are too much for him to take care of.”

“How old is he now, Olivia?”

“He’ll be eighty-five in November.”

Bruce shook his head. “You’d never know it the way he gets around.”

She nodded. “I’ll have to go back to buyer number one and give him the backup paperwork. That won’t be a surprise. I warned him this might happen, and I’d really prefer your people get the house. But those permits and lot line adjustments are holding things up. The permit people are so slow.”

“I think my folks will wait, and I’ll keep showing them properties, assuming they agree to go into second position. They asked about Melanie’s listing, too, and the Landis property.” He pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “The teakettle’s singing. Make me a cup, will you?”

“Of course.” She went into the kitchen, brewed three cups of tea and took the first into Bruce’s office. “Here you are.”

She carried the other two cups into her office in time to see her grandfather pick up the pen and start to sign the offer. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do that, Granddad?”

He nodded. “You’re my realtor. You think it’s a good idea. Now, make sure I’m doing this right.” He handed her each page after he signed it. “What about those other pages, the ones I had to do for Beau’s offer?”

“Bruce downloaded the legal and the seller disclosure and lead-based paint addendums before he presented this offer. See? They’re already signed and acknowledged by the buyers.”

“Oh. Okay.” He put down his pen. “Now what?”

“Let me prepare the other pages, so I can officially alert Beau to this new offer. Then you can go home.” She printed off the new documents. “I’ll make you copies, too.” She did so and brought the stack of paper back to him. “Take these and put them with the other papers from the first offer—so you have everything together.”

“Looks like we’ll be able to have a big bonfire with all these pages when we’re done.” He rose and put his arms around her.

She smiled tiredly at him. “You’re not the first seller who’s said that. Thanks for coming in.” She kissed him on one weathered cheek. “I feel good about this second offer. I hope you do, too.”

He nodded. “I hope Beau’s not angry.”

“This is business, Granddad. He understands that.”

“If you say so.”

She made extra copies for Bruce and followed him out of the office an hour later after leaving a voice message for Beau.

The next day Olivia was straightening her desk and looking forward to going home when Beau walked in. His smile was mini-microns away from a smirk.

“Genevieve told me you were here.”

He was wearing a stunning suit, charcoal grey with a white shirt and striped tie in two tones of blue. All he needed was a cape to toss over his shoulder and he would be one of those rakes who swept women off their feet in those classic films of the thirties.

Olivia wasn’t sure she should stand. She willed her stomach to stay where it was and her legs to remain firm, not like her insides, which had turned to jelly. “You look like you’re going someplace special.”

“I am. I’m here to take you to dinner—like I said I would—someplace special.”

“What makes you think I’ve available for dinner tonight?” She pretended to check something on her desktop monitor as she glanced sidelong at him, her pulse fast approaching the red zone.

“I checked with Genevieve earlier today. She said you don’t have any evening appointments tonight.” He grinned. “Am I right?”

Damn!
“Genevieve doesn’t keep my entire schedule.” She raised her head above the monitor to look squarely at him.

His eyes were half-closed as he lounged in the chair nearest her desk, his legs stretched out before him.

“Then answer the question. Are you free?”

She pursed her lips, and slid her hands into her lap so he wouldn’t see how she was pressing her fingers together and nodded.

“Good. I take it the Sea Shanty would not be your preference.”

She shook her head. “I hate the place.”

“Terrific. It wasn’t my first choice either.”

“Did you eat there—the other night?”

He shook his head. “Only some chips and beer, before I took on your boyfriend. Actually, we wouldn’t have bothered with the chips and beer except he challenged Brian and me, and I never step away from a challenge. As you know.” He sat up straighter. “How about El Gaucho’s in Belltown, or Ray’s Boathouse, if you want a water view. It’s a bit farther away, but worth the drive. What do you think?”

“Hmm. I guess you’re into steaks if you mentioned El Gaucho.”

“They serve seafood, too.”

“I need to go home and change. Do you already have a reservation?”

He nodded. “I’ll pick you up in an hour—or do you need more time?” He stood up and leaned toward her, holding out a hand.

“You guessed I would pick El Gaucho?”

“I made two reservations. I’ll cancel the other one.”

“Hmm.” She let him help her up out of her chair, praying her bones had hardened again. “You thought of everything.”
Was he always like this? So attentive? So Southern gentleman with a swagger?

“It’s my job,
darlin’—to consider all contingencies and cover all details. Isn’t that what you do in your job?” His drawl became more pronounced. He angled toward the door and held it for her.

She reached for her jacket and picked up her briefcase.

“Do you always take work home with you?”

“Don’t you?” she asked.

“Work is for the work space. Home is where I relax. And this is a dinner where no business will be discussed, remember? Just between friends.” He grinned at her. “Or don’t you want to be my friend, Olivia?” His voice dropped to an intimate whisper.

Her heart was thundering along in overdrive. She didn’t dare fan herself, and she hoped she didn’t look as uncomfortable as she felt. Rather than risk stuttering, she nodded before daring to speak. “Dinner, just between friends.”

“Exactly. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

Olivia was holding a small purse when she opened the door. Beau handed her a white rose.

She lifted one auburn eyebrow.

“A peace offering,” he said. “Your grandfather told me you like his garden and it has roses. I hope I picked the right color.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Let me put it in water.”

He appraised her as she approached the door again, wearing an apricot dress made from a fabric that clung to her body. It reminded him of water, the way it cascaded down her curves. Her necklace sparkled as it descended toward her décolleté and her hair lay loose on her shoulders, matching dangly earrings peeking out from among her curls.

“Shall we go?” They drove into town, away from the major traffic areas. He spent the time telling her about his family in Atlanta; his sister who was living in Scotland with her new husband, the doctor; and his younger brother, a Marine on his second tour in Afghanistan.

“With them so scattered, what brought you to Evergreen?”

“I like small towns and I did an internship here—actually with a firm in Seattle. I decided I liked the area, but I didn’t want to be one of many in a big metropolitan firm. I wanted my own shop.”

“How did you meet George?”

“He was working where I interned. The weekend we pulled a late night to get a particular plan finished, he and I talked about what we really wanted to do and discovered that our goals were the same. After I finished my internship, he started looking around and found this firm that wasn’t doing all that well, but it had some good clients who needed quality help. He hired on with them and then the senior guy decided to retire. A couple of the high-end clients really liked George’s work and after I finished my degree, he suggested I come out and consider buying the man out. I did and the rest is history. I can’t believe it’s been seven years since we started working together, five since we took over the firm and renamed it. Now it’s growing and we may need to take on a draftsman. What about you?”

“Nothing so dramatic. I joined my father’s office when I finished my business degree. After he died, I took over his office, if not his shoes.” She smiled. “I could never fill them, but we’re doing all right.”

“From what I see, you’re doing just fine.”  He stopped the car, tossed the valet the keys and they walked into the restaurant. At his request they were escorted to a table in a secluded corner, where other conversations were muted.

“Would you like some wine?” he asked.

“Only if you promise not to refill my glass.”

He chuckled. “I promise,” and ordered their wine by the glass.

Through dinner he never mentioned his offer on her grandfather’s house. Instead, they compared notes on why each valued being their own boss and their shared enjoyment of the Pacific Northwest climate and its proximity to both mountains and saltwater.

“What about a family, Olivia. Don’t you want one?”

She mentioned how lonely she’d been as an only child and how close she was to Sally. “Like a sister,” she claimed. “We tell each other everything.” She blushed and he wondered what she’d said to Sally about him.

“I’d love to have a family, but not until I’m established enough to be able to focus on the little ones. I know how hard it was for my dad to take care of me and the office.”

He nodded. “They have great desserts here. Do you want to indulge?” He shook his head when the waiter asked if he wanted another glass of wine.

“I take it you’ve eaten here before.”

“Once or twice. On her birthday, George and I treated Fiona to the cherries jubilee. She said it was like tasting a little bit of heaven. Want to try it?”

“Sounds good.”

When the waiter brought the dessert and set it on the table between them, offering each of them a spoon, Olivia’s eyes seemed to light up. “You take the first bite—since you suggested it.”