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Instead, Jo folded her arms and looked him in the eye. "I think you're being over-confident," she said.
His eyes narrowed as he focused on her properly for the first time since he had entered the room.
"Do you? And why would you think that?"
"That house has been on the market for more than half a year. In all that time, you haven't had one serious buyer. The industrial look is original, I grant you that, but it doesn't appeal to everyone."
"It's a house," he pointed out. "Different is always sought after."
"Well, yes, but it needs a huge amount of work. A lot of buyers are going to view that as a big turnoff. It’s not like you can just move in and get on with some small things you’d like to change. Major work is required right off the bat.”
“Not really. A part of the house is completely livable.”
“Not with major construction going on in adjacent portions,” she countered. “Only someone who wouldn’t be bothered by the noise and invasion of personal routine would consider such an option.”
He sighed in exasperation. "And you are?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
She wasn't sure what to say. She could hardly tell a man like him that she had fallen in love with his house. Nor was she brave enough, faced with that daunting stare, to point out that her motives were none of his business.
"It's magical."
The words were out before she realized it. He looked at her with what appeared to be amazement.
"What did you say?"
There was nothing to do but continue. She plugged on as best she could.
"There's something magical about it. It's as if it were enchanted. It's like being in another world. Those houses, the street, the cobbles…. Don't you feel that? No, well, I don't suppose you do, or you wouldn't be selling it. I felt it the minute I saw it."
His face softened, the coldness vanished from his eyes. She hadn't convinced him, but she had struck a chord somewhere inside his cold frame.
“I just pictured it as more of a family home, I guess. You see, this was my father’s house. I’ve been reluctant to let it go to anyone that I didn’t feel could truly care for it the way he did. He’d be horrified by the state I’ve let it get into.”
An idea struck her. If the fact that she was single deterred him, he should know she had no intention of remaining so.
"Actually," she said demurely, not meeting his eyes, "I do plan on getting married at some point in the near future."
"Oh, really?" The change in his voice was immediately apparent.
She tried not to grind her teeth in annoyance. What was it about unattached women that scared some men so much?
“I can't give you an answer right now. I'll have to think about it. You understand, that's quite a cut you're suggesting. I'll have to go over the figures with my accountant. Leave me your phone number, and I'll be in touch."
Jo did as he asked, watching him hurriedly disappear through the doorway. She sighed and gathered her bag, avoiding Holly on her way out. Holly would make a healthy commission off this if she closed the deal, but Jo intended to keep it to a minimum, if for no other reason than she found her intensely unlikeable.CHAPTER SEVENThough she was reluctant to talk to King about it, Jo knew she needed to do so before this went any further. What was his affiliation with the house and was she stepping on his toes by buying it or creating problems with the scenario in which he was paying her to play out?
He had given her a week to sort some personal things and she still had a few days, but she felt she needed to discuss this with him. Much to her surprise, she found him making plans to meet her at the house again. He offered to send a driver, but she explained that she had purchased a car. She hung up the phone and made her way into town, seeking out a salon to do something with her hair.
“Sure, honey. I’ve had a cancellation this morning, so I can do it myself,” a young woman told her at the front desk.
Jo followed her to her station and told her what she wanted. The usual chatter while getting one’s hair done ensued. Jo told her the basics, that she was new in town and looking to buy a house. She mentioned that she had found one and was talking to the owner, negotiating.
"What did you say the seller's name was?" she asked, taking it for granted she would know him. It was a small place, and so Jo assumed so as well.
"Saul Turner, I think he said.”
"Dark-blond hair? Early thirties?"
"I thought he was a bit younger, but maybe."
"The other brother's several years younger. Better-looking too. They both have a terrible reputation."
