SEAL the Deal (6 page)

Bet he looks a bit like that with his
shirt off, she thought with a sigh that sounded more like a purr.

“Enjoying the scenery?” Maeve leaned
against the doorway of the kitchen, catching the longing stare of her friend
out the window.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

Maeve smiled knowingly. “Yeah, I know. Distracted.
Bess is here, too. Went up to her room.” She joined her friend in gazing out
the window. “My, my. He doesn’t even have a shirt on. That’s a little
unprofessional for his first day of work. Bad boy. I might have to spank him.”

Lacey laughed. “You’re too much. He’s
definitely not what I was picturing.”

“Figured. He charges more than that
pre-pubescent down the road, but I don’t feel like I’m breaking child labor
laws. Not bad to look at either,” Maeve continued, admiration clear in her
voice. “And you know how I like…”

“…surrounding yourself with nice things,”
Lacey finished for her as the last drops of coffee poured into the pot.

“Mmhm,” Maeve answered dreamily, helping
herself to the first cup. “Is this the high octane stuff?”

“Yeah. I’m exhausted, but I still have
some calls to make. I’ve got that open house coming up this weekend.”

“Great! Want me to come by and act like an
interested buyer?”

“Sure, if you have the time. Oh, speaking
of, there were some boxes that I wanted cleared out of her house before it goes
up. Carolyn didn’t feel right putting them in storage. Just papers and personal
things. Photos probably, too. You know how sentimental old people get. She says
her new duplex is too small for them.”

Maeve winced. “How many?”

“About six. Mind if I put them in the
attic for a little while? She said she just needs some time to sort through
them, but she’s not up to it emotionally right now.”

“Sure, but it gets really hot up there. The
stuff might get damaged.”

Lacey hadn’t thought of that. She groaned
inwardly, foreseeing herself tripping over the boxes in her small bedroom for
the next several months.

All the more reason to get that house sold
fast.

“I could put them in the office,” Maeve
offered. “We’ve got a huge storage space in the basement we never use.”

“I swear if you were a man, I’d marry you.
Thanks. It sounds perfect.”

“But you really do let people take
advantage of you, Lacey,” Maeve said in her usual big-sister-like tone.

Lacey sighed. She knew that was coming.

“She’s got a son, right? Why can’t he
store them?”

“The guy’s a prick. I wouldn’t trust him
with anything important. She probably feels the same.”

“Great to have kids, huh?” Maeve said
sarcastically. “Glad I’m not going down that road.” She raised her coffee mug
as though it were a toast. Or a vow. “They’re helpless, loud, smelly when they
pop out, and they only get worse with age. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Lacey couldn’t say she felt the same. But
right now, career was her only priority.

***

She hates kids.

Bess sat on the staircase with her head
between her knees. She had been halfway up the stairs when she felt dizzy and
had to stop. She hadn’t intended to listen in on their conversation. But it
might be for the best that she did.

Better start looking for another place
to stay.
Instinctively, she held her
hand to her belly. She wasn’t showing yet, but would soon. Baggy clothes could
only hide so much.

She raised her head slowly and gradually
stood up.

Where could she go from here? No one would
want to rent a room to a single mom of an infant. And she certainly couldn’t
afford to get an apartment on her own yet.

I could go back to my parents, she
thought, her heart filling with dread.

But
he’d
find her there. It was
still too soon for her to risk seeing him again.

Her parents were not an option then. She’d
have to let them live with the blissful story that she had gone to explore
Europe for a few months. When a few months turned into a year, she doubted they’d
even notice.

With any luck, if Dan went to her parents
to try to track her down, they’d share the story with him. And with a little
more luck, he’d take it as gospel.

What a fool she had been. The bruises, the
swollen jaw, the black eye, and the empty apologies she accepted afterward.

Yes, she had been a fool.

Until the day she found out she was
pregnant. Her cheekbone was still swollen from a few days before. But at that
moment, staring at the yellowish mark on her face in the bathroom mirror and
holding a positive pregnancy test in her hand, she knew her child deserved
better than a father like him.

So for now, she’d cover her tracks.

Bess rubbed her belly and looked around
the room she now called home. Tracing her hand along the headboard, she gazed at
the picture on the wall. It was Maeve’s grandparents, Bess had been told. The
grandfather’s loving gaze at his wife reminded Bess that all men weren’t like
Dan.

But it was the image of the grandmother
that really touched her. Her joyful eyes seemed to reach out from the photo
with warm welcome.

“Gram.” That was what Maeve had called
her. What a lovely woman she must have been. Even now, as Bess closed her eyes,
she could feel the grandmother’s smile watching over her.

She sighed, for now simply content to have
a soft bed to rest, and sent a silent request to a grandmother she never knew for
a little more time in this sanctuary on the Chesapeake Bay.

And she smiled, feeling the old spirit’s
answer.

Lacey pushed another open house sign into
a patch of soft soil alongside the road. Her blouse was already sticking to her
chest after standing in the heat for only a minute, and her hair had doubled in
volume.

Cursing Annapolis’s oppressive humidity,
she jumped back into her car and blasted the AC. Fortunately, she had plenty of
time to cool down at the house before people would start arriving.

If
they arrived. Half of Annapolis was probably bobbing around on their
boats on a hot day like today.

She parked her car along the street so
that she would not obstruct views of the house. It looked perfect. Even the
black-eyed Susans had seen fit to hold their blossoms for her open house. She
hoped it was a sign of good luck ahead.

Stepping into the house, Lacey held her
breath. She had stopped by yesterday evening to make sure everything was ready
for today, half-expecting a pipe burst or roof leak to delay today’s open
house. But everything was perfect then, just as it was today.

Odd, though. She was certain she wouldn’t
have left the coat closet open like that.

Lacey shut the closet door firmly and
opened the French doors that led to the patio so people could hear the
enchanting sound of water lapping against the rocks.

Turning on the lights upstairs, she noticed
another closet door open. An uncomfortable chill raced down her spine. She never
would have been careless enough to leave two closets open last night.

For that matter, she didn’t even remember
having opened them.

Her eyes darted around. Nothing was
missing, and it certainly didn’t look as though anyone had broken in.

She whipped out her cell and started
dialing.

“Hey,” Maeve answered.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Uh, no. Don’t think so anyway.”

“Then explain this. When I came into the
house, two of the closets were open. I know for a fact they weren’t open when I
left last night.”

“Why are you still in the house? If you
think someone’s broken in, get the hell out of there!”

“But that’s just it. Nothing’s missing.”

“Are you sure you didn’t leave those doors
open?”

“Positive.”

“How about the old lady? Would she have
stopped by last night?”

“Not unless someone drove her. She has bad
eyes and can’t drive at night.”

“Well, somebody else must have the key. Didn’t
you say she had kids?”

“Yeah, and the son lives in town. I guess
that must be it,” Lacey decided with some relief. “But why would he stop by
here? She doesn’t live here, and there’s nothing left here of hers.”

“Maybe he got sentimental about the place
and wanted to see it again.”

“Believe me, this guy is not the
sentimental type.”

“Are you sure you’re safe there? Keep me
on the line while you check the place out, okay?”

Grateful for Maeve’s caution, Lacey checked
all the closets, under the beds, and even climbed up the rickety ladder to the
blistering hot attic.

She was definitely alone.

“Well, it had to be the son,” Maeve said
with confidence. “Who knows? Maybe he just remembered a stash of
Playboy
s
he had hidden away when he was a kid.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’ll stop by later to check on you. Anything
you need at the store?”

Lacey rattled off a few items and hung up
the phone in time to catch her breath before one o’clock. At that precise
moment, she hoped she’d be welcoming hordes of eager potential buyers into the
house, their checkbooks open.

It was a great dream, anyway.

***

Maeve clicked her phone shut.

“Is everything okay?” Bess asked.

“I think Lacey is crumbling under the
pressure,” Maeve answered with a laugh, turning the corner into a parking lot. “I
have to stop in and pick up some wine. Do you mind?”

“No, go ahead. I’ll just wait in the car.”

“It’s too hot. Come on in. You can pick
out something you like. I’ve noticed you’re not into my choice of reds.”

“Actually, I, uh, I just don’t drink.”

“Oh,” Maeve said, at a surprising loss of
words. “Okay. Well, if you really want to wait here, I’ll leave the car running
so you can at least keep the AC on.”

“Thanks.”

Maeve slammed the door behind her and
charged into the store on a mission. The selection of wine was a sacred act. One
didn’t just grab the first thing they saw on the shelf, or God forbid, purchase
a bottle simply because it had a pretty label.

Instead, Maeve religiously read about
wine, sought out recommendations, attended tastings. As a rule, she didn’t
drink much. But she made every glorious sip count.

Maeve shook her head as she explored the
import aisles.
What is this about Bess not drinking?
she wondered
uneasily as she lightly traced the wines lined up on the shelf with her
discerning finger, the same way another person might scan books in a library.

Maeve had a hard time trusting people who
didn’t drink. Her ex-husband had given up alcohol about halfway through her
short-lived marriage. At first, she thought it was admirable. Unlike Maeve, he
had trouble stopping after just one glass—or six or seven, for that
matter. But Maeve had later learned that he only gave up drinking around
her
because he couldn’t afford a careless slip of the tongue while under the
influence. It would be in poor taste to accidently call your wife the name of
your co-worker in the middle of a moment of passion.

Not that there had been much passion in
the end.

People who didn’t drink might be hiding
something, Maeve’s experience had taught her. Not always. Maybe even rarely. But
sometimes. So what was Bess hiding?

Not her business, Maeve reminded herself. Bess
seemed like a good person, and she was the perfect renter. Always quiet, almost
painfully so. Meticulously clean, too, which made Maeve think her housecleaning
clients must be in seventh heaven.

There was definitely something going on
with her. But everyone was entitled to her own secrets.

Lord knows Maeve had her share.

***

Lacey’s face was starting to ache from
smiling. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m glad you liked the house. Please
give me a call if you have any questions,” she said, handing two business cards
to a young couple on their way out the door.

Her smile faded as she saw the man
approaching the house. It was Carolyn’s son.

“Hello, Mr. Miron.” Something about him
made Lacey wish there were other people in the house. She glanced in both
directions down the street, silently willing cars to stop and see the house. But
no one stopped.

“Call me Jeff, please. Nice to see there
are people checking out the house,” he said as he watched the couple get into
their car. “Has it been busy?”

“Yes, very.”

“Well, I won’t stay long. I was just in
the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and see if there was traffic. I know
my mother’s anxious to sell,” he said, slowly giving Lacey a head to toe appraisal.
“Care to show me around?”