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“Here we are,” he said, stopping in front of a large double door and sliding the key into the lock. “Shall we?” He pushed open the door and we stepped into a beautiful apartment whose floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Lake Ontario that could only be described as breathtaking.
The apartment was impressive as well: a spacious, open-concept, living-dining-kitchen area, the kitchen boasting all the latest in high-end appliances and custom-built cabinets. The master bedroom down the hall was a nice size and came with its own en suite. Even the smaller, windowless room to the right of the front door felt airy and bright. There were hardwood floors throughout, a powder room, and a decent-size, south-facing terrace.
“It’s lovely,” I said as we walked through the unit. “Do you have any idea how much they’re thinking of asking?”
“None,” he said. “Do you?”
Actually I did. I’d spent the better part of the afternoon researching similar sales in the area, and this building inparticular. “I’d say in the neighborhood of two and a half million dollars.” I waited for a gasp that never came.
“Sounds reasonable,” he said.
I tried not to let my surprise register on my face. Even though it was my job, it was hard for me to get my head around the ever-escalating, skyrocketing prices of the Toronto real estate market. The analysts kept predicting it wouldn’t—couldn’t possibly—continue, and yet every year, prices not only jumped, they soared.
I was also trying not to be impressed by the ease with which he’d accepted my evaluation, as if he’d expected as much. As if two and a half million dollars was no big deal. As if it was well within the price range he’d been considering.
Handsome, charming, and a man of means,I couldn’t help thinking.
“So, what do we do now?” he asked when we’d completed our tour.
“I guess we wait till they make up their minds about selling. In the meantime, I can show you other condos in a similar price range. It’s always a good idea to have options.”
“Sounds good. This weekend?”
“This weekend?” I repeated.
“To look at condos?” he clarified.
I hesitated, knowing how Harrison would react, already hearing his all-too-familiar list of complaints. But then, Harrison wouldn’t be around this weekend, I reminded myself. “This weekend is good,” I said, wondering if I could impose on Elyse one last time.
“How about some dinner?” he asked.
“What?”
“Well, it’s almost six o’clock. I know a nice little spot not too far from here…”
“Oh, no. Thank you, but I should really be getting home.”
“Of course.”
Home to a cold dinner and an even colder reception,I thought,reaching inside my purse for my phone. “Could you give me a minute?”
“Of course,” he said again, moving toward the long expanse of windows to give me some privacy.
I called Harrison to tell him I’d finished earlier than expected and to wait dinner for me after all.
“We already ate,” he said.
“Already? It’s not even six o’clock.”
“Kids were hungry. So was I.”
I glanced toward where Roger McAdams stood, staring at the lake. “Well, maybe I’ll just grab something on my way home.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Harrison…”
The line went dead in my hand.
“Thank you. I think I will.” I returned the phone to my purse and then stood there, staring at the polished hardwood floor, debating what I should do. The smart option was to go straight home. The other option was standing by the windows, staring at the lake.
“Problems?” Roger asked, catching my gaze and walking back toward me.
Don’t do it,a little voice warned as he drew near.
But it was already too late.
I smiled. “It seems that I’m free for dinner after all.”
