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Her perfume fills the hallway, killing all that’s good about the natural smell in Conor’s place, and I can see enough of her to know it really is her.
My landlord’s realtor standing on Conor’s doorstep.
Well, like she said it was about a real estate matter. I’m sure Conor has a lot of that sort of thing going on in his life, in his line of work.
But still.
I can’t help feel a little intimidated. Compared to me, this woman’s Malibu Barbie, and I’m a cabbage patch kid.
Chapter Twenty
Conor
Sensing there’s someone behind me, the estate agent who introduces herself as Angela, tries to look at me and past me at the same time.
She tells me her name, but after that, she isn’t making a whole lot of sense.
I don’t appreciate being ogled by strangers either, this body already has a mate. Not that she’s anywhere near my type anyway.
Plus, she’s letting in the cold.
“If I could have just a minute of your time, Mr. Fox, about the property we discussed earlier today?”
I hear the sitting room door close and figure Rachel’s either getting changed or not interested in realtor talk.
I glance at my watch before peering out into the street, maybe hoping for a glimpse of Valentine returning before I sigh, showing her in.
“Sure. But only a minute, I’m kind of in the middle of something,” I inform her.
I’m not sure what’s wrong with her, but she fluffs her hair and sticks her chest out, strutting inside like some weird bird looking for a feed.
And that’s what she needs. I don’t get why women think they have to be so stick thin these days.
Weird.
Still fuzzy from my nap and the best experience of my life so far, I slump into my office chair with a half-smile before signaling Ms. what’s her name to take a seat too.
I want Rachel again already, so I need to keep this interruption short.
“I guess I’ll get to the point,” she says, noticing my vacant look which is closely followed by my hand’s palms up in a ‘So?’ silent question.
“The property you called me about earlier today, I managed to get a hold of the owner once I… Once I looked into…”
Once you found out who I was, you saw dollar signs.
I nod briefly but hold my hand up. This meeting’s already over.
“I appreciate your time today, but I’ve since seen the property for myself and I’m not interested,” I tell her point-blank, which is true.
There’s no way I’d buy that dump and expect Rachel or anyone else to keep living there.
Her shining, almost plastic face struggles to make lines in it. Looks like Botox is a thing again.
“But you said earlier today...?”
I shrug, checking my watch again. I’m done house shopping for one day, I’ve got Rachel now I just need to find Valentine.
This time waster isn’t helping either of those.
“Earlier today I had an offer, now I don’t. Now, if you don’t mind?” I tell her, getting up and eyeing the doorway.
She humphs to herself and gets up to leave, almost bumping into Rachel as she comes out of the sitting room, still wearing her robe and a dark look.
The two stop suddenly, sizing each other up as I try to make eye contact with Rachel.
“You?” The realtor asks, looking Rachel up and down before turning to me.
“In a meeting, huh?” she asks sarcastically, but I’m already at the front door, holding it open.
“Goodbye,” I growl, giving a dark look of my own.
“I’m sure Mr. Beckett will be pleased to know where his daughter is, I went by there today before coming here. Apparently, his daughter is missing,” she spits before clipping down the steps in her heels, skidding on some ice before making it to her car.
I push the door shut with one hand, and turning to Rachel I ask her, “What the hell was all that about?”
She still looks sour. “Why don’t you tell me?” she retorts.
“Okay, okay,” I concede, holding my hands up and cracking a smile. “Let’s not get mad at each other over that… lady,” I tell her, jerking my thumb back behind me with a shudder of revulsion.
I’m grateful when Rachel comes to me, wrapping herself around me as I hold her in my arms.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that woman is the last person I would have expected to see here. What was all that about you buying a house?” she asks, and then apologizes again, saying it’s none of her business.
But it is.
It’s time to tell her everything.
“Rachel, come sit down. I have some things to tell you.”
She looks relieved, not worried as we take a seat on the couch together.
“I love you Rachel, and I won’t keep anything from you. Not now and not ever,” I start to explain.
“I love you too,” she adds quickly, hooking her arms around my neck.
