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“I mean the whole thing, Pamela. You and me. We’re not working.”
Her eyes widened, a shaft of pain visible.
“And I think it’s time for me to go.”
“What? Go? Because I asked for one day?”
He could hear tears forming in her voice. His jaw tightened. “You know what I mean.”
“If it means that much to you, go ahead.” She waved an arm dramatically. “Get on your cell phone. Leave. Do what you have to do. Work.”
“I’m going home.” He turned toward the door.
She flew at him in a panic, grabbing his arm again, tightly. “No . . . Don’t leave. Joel . . . Rex . . . please. I didn’t mean it. I said you could use your phone, so . . . just use it.”
“I don’t want to feel like I have to ask permission.” He gently pulled her hand from his arm. “I think you might be looking for someone else.”
“No, no. I want you,” she argued, visibly upset, tears glistening on her lashes as the weight of what he was saying sank in. “You know I want you.”
“I’m not that guy.” He turned away from her again. He didn’t want to make her feel bad, but the breakup had been coming a long time and he knew that if he didn’t stick to his guns, this conversation would be repeated at some future date.
“You’re really just going to walk out that door?”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Don’t do me any favors. You don’t want to, so don’t.”
“Good-bye.” He walked through the door and closed it behind him, bracing himself for the sound of something thrown against it, a shoe, a vase, or something, but it was eerily quiet inside her apartment.
He hoped to hell that was the end of it, and though he felt bad for letting things go on as long as they had, he was relieved that at least one problem in his life was resolved.
Chapter 14
Elizabeth texted Barbara back as she was showing Buddy and Marg yet another wildly extravagant and expensive, though outdated home. It was an over-customized nightmare. Every modern convenience available circa 1962 and nothing updated or even still working, since. While the couple was poking around upstairs, Elizabeth thanked Barbara for helping out and said she was glad she’d made it home safely. Of course she made it home safely.
“You can’t wish someone dead,” she muttered under her breath at herself.
Marg came bustling down to the living room where Elizabeth was waiting, just tucking her phone into her purse. Buddy came lumbering after his wife.
“What do you think of this one?” Marg asked Elizabeth, then didn’t wait for an answer as she added, “It really needs to be updated. You think they’ll come down some?”
“They’d have to come down about five million,” Buddy grumbled as he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and jingled his keys.
“It’s not that bad,” Marg snapped.
“Pretty bad,” he argued.
Elizabeth said, “These sellers don’t seem that eager to bargain. They already had an offer that fell through. I don’t know all the details, but I do know they weren’t budging on price.”
“Termites,” Buddy said. “Betcha it was termites and it came out in the home inspection.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marg declared, her lips compressing.
“I know I ain’t buying this termite-riddled piece of garbage,” he retorted and started making his way to the front door.
And so it went. By the time Elizabeth got them back to the office and into their vehicle, Marg and Buddy weren’t speaking to each other at all.
Par for the course, Elizabeth thought as she hurried to University Park, a neighborhood of about two hundred homes in an Irvine Company development just off the 405 freeway where her open house was scheduled. The area had a newly reconstructed community center, pool, park, playground, and tennis courts within easy walking distance of the house she was holding open for another of Mazie’s clients.
