Passionate Pleasures (5 page)

“Any thoughts?” Mrs. Kirk asked him as they came out into the hall again.

“How much?” Tim inquired.

“The heirs want a thousand a month,” Mrs. Kirk ventured.

“I’ll want a two-year lease with an option to purchase,” Tim told her.

“They only wanted to rent for a year,” Mrs. Kirk said in a regretful voice.

“I have a co-op in the city I have to sell,” Tim told her. “The market is poor right now. Two years will give me a chance to see if I like Egret Pointe, and if Egret Pointe likes me. That’s the term of my contract with the school board right now. I’ll be a good tenant. I’ll keep the gardens and lawn up for them. And I’m sure you can recommend a good cleaning woman to help me keep the place inside, although I’m actually a pretty neat guy. And Rowdy is a good dog. Right, Rowdy?”

At the mention of his name Rowdy, who had been dutifully following the two humans about this strange house, whined, cocking his head.

Mrs. Kirk smiled, and patted the dog again. Then she pulled out her cell. “Let’s see if we can make the deal now, Mr. Blair.” She pressed the numbers, and then said, “Mr. Torkelsen? This is Doris Kirk, Country Real Estate in Egret Pointe. I believe I have good news for you and your sister. I have a client, the new principal of our Middle School, a single gentleman, who would like a two-year lease on your mother’s house.” She paused, listening. “Yes, I know, but to be candid with you, Mr. Torkelsen, I don’t see the market coming back quickly here. Mr. Blair has a two-year contract with the school district, and if at the end of that term they decide to continue on together—and frankly, I don’t see why they wouldn’t—he would then purchase your mother’s cottage. Yes, a two-year lease with an option to buy.” She paused again, listening, then said, “I’m quite certain he could obtain a mortgage.”

“It would be an all-cash deal,” Tim said softly.

Mrs. Kirk raised an eyebrow, and then said, “Mr. Blair says it would be an all-cash deal, Mr. Torkelsen. I really don’t see how you can go wrong. Would you like to speak to your sister, or shall I call her? Yes, I’ll call her. We’re in agreement then? A two-year lease with an option to purchase. Thank you so much.” Mrs. Kirk snapped her phone shut. “He’s in agreement, and his sister will do what he wants. I’ll call her now. Forgive me for asking, but an all-cash deal?”

Tim Blair laughed. “From a guy driving an old Ford? The explanation is simple. I’ve been living in my late parents’ co-op. I got permission from the co-op board to rent it out for two years with an option to purchase. My tenants are the daughter of the head of the co-op board and her husband. They’re expecting a baby, and the parents on both sides are doing an all-cash deal with me in two years. In the meantime the expectant parents are paying me rent. The monthly co-op fee plus a little bit for my goodwill,” he explained. “I expect in two years the co-op price will still be more than the price of this little house. I might even buy a new car.” He chuckled. “I notice you didn’t mention the dog.”

“Why complicate matters?” Mrs. Kirk said. “Besides, haven’t you told me that Rowdy is a good dog?” She smiled mischievously.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Let me call Jean Torkelsen Rich now, and get this settled,” Mrs. Kirk replied. She flipped her phone open, punched in some numbers and waited a moment. “Mrs. Rich? This is Doris Kirk from Country Real Estate in Egret Pointe. I’ve just gotten off the phone with your brother, Donald, and I have good news.”

While she spoke Tim took the time to walk about the small house again. Opening a door in the kitchen, he descended into the basement. It was clean and dry. Coming up, he opened another door that led to a short covered breezeway with a flagstone floor. The garage was at its other end. Standing on the breezeway he looked out into the rear of the property. There was a small, neat, fenced-in vegetable garden and pristine green lawn. He wondered if he could adjust to living such a bucolic life.

“Mr. Blair?” Doris Kirk came out to join him on the breezeway. “Mrs. Torkelsen’s daughter says it’s a deal. I told you she would. Now when would you like to move into the cottage?”

“Today?”

“
Today?
” Mrs. Kirk was more than surprised.

“My furniture’s arriving in Egret Pointe tomorrow,” Tim Blair said. “I counted on finding a place today, and the Jacobses’ lease on my co-op begins September first. They wanted to paint and paper before they moved in. Lisa Jacobs’s baby is due in November,” he explained. “I thought I should give them a little time.”

“Well, aren’t you just the nicest man?” Doris Kirk said. “But where will you sleep, Mr. Blair?”

“I brought my sleeping bag,” he said with a boyish grin. “I can eat supper out, and if you’ll point me to the nearest market I’ll get some stuff in for the morning.”

Doris Kirk laughed. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Blair. You go shopping for your groceries, and I will make out the lease while you’re gone. I’ll need a month in advance, and a month for security. Your rent will be due the first of every month. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll get you to our IGA. There’s a large chain at the mall, but that’s a bit of a drive today. The IGA is perfectly fine, and most of Egret Pointe shops there unless they need something very special. Come back to my office when you’re finished.”

He followed her back outside to where their cars were parked, and she led him quickly to the town’s local market. Tim parked the Ford beneath a large maple tree in the center of the parking lot. He cracked the windows generously for Rowdy, and filled his water bowl on the backseat from a bottle of water he had been sipping from on the drive out from the city. Then he went into the market and did his shopping. Milk, orange juice, half-and-half, a box of Newman’s Own Honey Nut-O’s, rye bread, some dry and some moist dog food. He stopped at the deli counter for the honey-maple ham/swiss combination, some cole slaw, and potato salad. He considered a six-pack of beer, but picked up one of Dr Pepper instead. No need starting gossip.

At the register, the girl checked him out efficiently. “Are you visiting?” she asked him, curious, assuming he was a summer person.

“I’m Tim Blair, the new Middle School principal,” he answered.

“
Oh!
” the checker said, looking him over more closely. “My son is going into Middle School next month. Nice to meet you, Mr. Blair.”

“Who is the owner of the old brown car?” A woman had stepped into the market. She was a tall redhead who looked like a retired supermodel. “There is a dog locked in that car, and he’s howling, poor thing,” the woman continued.

“That would be my car, and my dog,” Tim said.

“This is Mr. Blair, the new Middle School principal, Miss Kathy,” the checker said.

“I hope you will treat your students better than that poor dog of yours,” Kathryn St. John said. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir!”

“The car is under a large tree. The windows are open, and Rowdy has water,” Tim defended himself. “I have been in the market ten minutes. What more did you expect me to do, madam? It was the car, or an empty house with which Rowdy was not familiar. I chose the car.”
Damned woman,
he thought irritably.

“Then why is the poor creature howling?” she angrily demanded to know. She hated thoughtlessness toward animals.

“It’s his first time in Egret Pointe, and as I’m not settled yet I thought it better to keep him with me. But dogs are not allowed in markets, ma’am. Rowdy is just a little scared without me. I’m going out to my
old brown car
now, and you are welcome to come along and check him out. Are you a veterinarian?”

“Well, Kathryn St. John, I can assure you that Rowdy is spoiled rotten, well fed, loved, and has all his shots,” Tim told her, his blue eyes meeting her hazel green ones. Lordy, she was really a beauty. Was that hair color natural? It had to be, given her pale cream-colored skin.

“My last name is pronounced
Sin Gin,
Mr. Blair,” Kathryn said. What an arrogant man he was. And that boyish engaging grin was probably used to great advantage. Well, she wasn’t about to be taken in by blue eyes and a winning smile.

“I shall remember that in future, ma’am. Now if you’ll excuse me, even I can hear Rowdy’s howling at this point.” Tim gathered up his groceries, and walked from the market. “Good day, Miss St. John.”

“How rude! What an insufferable man!” Kathryn St. John said irritably. And how did he know she was a
Miss
?

“I think he’s kinda cute,” the checker responded, gazing after Tim as he went to his car. “He looks like a nice guy, Miss Kathy.”

Tim could feel the women staring after him as he made his way to the car. Rowdy practically turned himself inside out at the sight of him. Tim opened the trunk of the car and put the grocery bags inside, slamming the lid down, and got into the driver’s side. He turned and looked at the dog. “When did I ever mistreat or desert you, you overgrown mutt? Here I am telling everyone what a good dog you are, and you howl like a banshee just because I leave you alone for a few minutes,” Tim said.

Rowdy licked his face, making happy-dog noises.

Tim laughed. “Go lie down,” he ordered the dog. “We have a lease to sign, and then we’re going to our new home. You’re going to have your own yard, Rowdy.”

He put the car in gear and drove back to Mrs. Kirk’s office. She was waiting with four copies of the lease for him to sign. His late father had been an attorney. He had taught Tim to read anything he was going to sign. The lease was pretty boilerplate. He noted one small clause that read
the price of the house to be determined by current market conditions at the time of the sale.
He initialed it, signed where indicated, and pulled out his checkbook.

“It’s a city bank’s account,” he told Mrs. Kirk.

“As long as it’s good,” she told him with a smile. “If you’re interested in opening a local account, Egret Pointe National Savings Bank is reliable and safe.”

“Thanks,” Tim said. “I’ll open the account tomorrow. Can you tell me the official address of my new home?”

“It’s Sixty Wood’s End Way,” Mrs. Kirk replied.

Pulling out his cell phone, Tim pressed in a number, waited, then said, “Hi, this is Timothy Blair. Your van can deliver my stuff to Sixty Wood’s End Way in Egret Pointe tomorrow. Give my cell number to your driver. My cleaning woman will be at the apartment at eight A.M. to let you in and lock up afterwards. Yeah, thanks.” He snapped the phone shut.

“My goodness,” Doris Kirk said. “You are certainly very efficient, Mr. Blair. Here are your keys to the house. They are the only set in existence.”

Tim took the keys, and then said, “Do you have a cleaning woman you can recommend, Mrs. Kirk?”

“I do. Mrs. Bills, but she’s very particular about who she will clean for, so let me give her your number, and she’ll call you.”

“Fair enough,” Tim said. “Thanks so much for finding me such nice shelter. I want to spend the rest of the week getting settled. Next Monday I have to get back to work and meet my teachers. School starts in just a few weeks.”

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Blair. Good luck!”

When he had left her office and driven off, Doris Kirk picked up her desk phone and dialed a number. The phone rang three times and was picked up. “Evie, it’s Doris Kirk. I’ve just rented the Torkelsen house to the new Middle School principal. He asked me if I could suggest a cleaning woman. I told him you, and that you would call him.”

“What’s he like?” Evie Bills asked.

“Handsome, well-spoken, and has a little money, from what I can gather,” Doris Kirk said. “I liked him. No-nonsense type. Came out from the city today to rent, and his moving van arrives tomorrow. He brought a sleeping bag for tonight. Has a dog. A silly-looking shaggy terrier mix with big brown eyes named Rowdy. The dog adores him.”

“Well, that says something,” Evie Bills replied. “Dogs don’t adore bad guys. How am I going to call him if he hasn’t had a phone installed yet? Does he have a cell?”

“He does,” Mrs. Kirk said, “but I don’t have the number. I forgot to take it down before he left. He called me a few days ago, told me who he was, what he wanted, and said he’d be here this morning before eleven. He was. The Torkelsens agreed. He signed the lease, and went off. I know he has a cell, because he called his moving company from my office. They’re coming in tomorrow with his things.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Evie Bills said. “Thanks for the reference. I’ll let you know what I decide to do.” Then she rang off. At eight thirty the following morning, Evie Bills knocked on the front door at Sixty Wood’s End Way. When it opened she smiled up at the tall man standing in his pajamas. “Mr. Blair? I’m Mrs. Bills. I understand you’re looking for someone to clean. I would have called, but Doris Kirk didn’t think to get your cell number. May I come in? I’ve brought some nice strong brewed coffee, and cinnamon rolls fresh from my oven.” She stepped past him. “We’re going to have to get going if the house is going to be ready for your movers. What time do you expect them?”

Rowdy bounded up to Mrs. Bills.

“About one o’clock,” Tim said. “I expect the movers around one.”

“Any empty house goes quicker,” Mrs. Bills said, going straight for the kitchen. “Can Rowdy have a little treat?”

Tim nodded, slightly dazed by this small dynamo. “Sure,” he said.

Mrs. Bills set her large satchel of a bag on a kitchen counter. Reaching into it, she pulled out a thermos, two small china mugs, a square plastic box with a lid, and a steak bone wrapped in Glad Wrap. She unwrapped the bone and handed it to the dog.

Rowdy’s eyes danced as he took the bone gently from her fingers.

Tim took the dog by the collar and led him out to the breezeway with his bone. “Stay, Rowdy,” he told the animal. Rowdy lay down, gnawing on the bone between his two big front paws. Returning to the kitchen, Tim found the mugs filled with coffee, and the square plastic box opened to reveal the sweet rolls. “He’ll be your slave for life,” Tim said. He sipped the coffee, and taking a roll, took a bite. “And so will I. These are absolutely delicious, Mrs. Bills. Thank you.”