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Lap after lap, my mind certainly stayed fixed on a single point, but not my time or form. I was looping on the conversation—or lack thereof—with Colin. When I tried to shove that aside, thoughts of Daria were waiting to take its place.
Three days of screwing around—literally and otherwise—and I was hooked on both of them. But it was more than that. I had something with each of them before this week too. A solid bond, a real friendship, but was it more? The three of us were good together.
Life looked dreary when I tried to imagine a future without either of them in it.
I reached the end of a lap, came up for air, and realized there was a woman standing a few feet back from the pool. When I wiped the water from my eyes, I saw frosted hair, a stunning figure, and her crossed arms.
I climbed from the pool, and I knew without looking that she took the opportunity to look me over while I dried off. I held up a hand to indicate I needed a moment, and when I finished she was still watching me.
And a week ago, as long as she wasn’t a student’s parent, I would have seized the opportunity to see how deep her appreciation ran. Today, there was no interest. I joined her. “Can I help you?”
“Now I know at least one thing she sees in you.” She extended her hand. “Carly. We spoke on the phone.”
“Tanner.” I shook her hand, but my mind was on her comment. That meant Daria had talked about me in a way that evoked that kind of response. “I appreciate you taking the time to do this.”
“I’d do a lot for Daria. This is no big deal though. Do you want to give me the grand tour, and I’ll tell you when I need to see more or less?”
I nodded, and gestured. “This is the pool.”
She laughed. “Thanks. I might not have figured that out.” Her voice was teasing. “Make sure I don’t fall in.”
I stepped away long enough to pull on some clothes. It took a few hours to go through the entire building, and I was grateful for the distraction. Carly was good at keeping up a train of small talk, and unfortunately even better at steering the conversation from Daria every time I asked.
Carly wanted to look closer at, and take pictures of things I hadn’t put much thought into. Tile and paint and the basement. I was worried she’d home in on the chlorine smell in the classrooms, but she assured me that was an HVAC issue, and it appeared to be fixable.
We were at the far end of the building, in the large gymnasium no one had used in years for anything but stacking chairs, when she proclaimed she was done.
“How serious is it, doc?” I tried to keep my voice light, but braced myself for the news that this place was worth more torn down and rebuilt.
She flipped through her notebook, and thumbed through her phone. “I did some research on this place yesterday. On the existing owner and financing terms, the building’s history, and more.”
“Okay?”
Carly finally looked at me. “The owner is telling the truth. The place needs some work, and I meana lotof work, but none if it is structural.”
“So why…” I thought back to the conversation with Davenport, who was so insistent that the place was utter shit. “A banker told me not to bother.”
“Ah. That’s one of the things I found in my research. There’s a clause in the existing loan that if the building falls into a certain level of disrepair, the bank can foreclose. My guess is, your guy is desperate to sell, before that happens, so he doesn’t lose his equity.”
Holy shit. “Son of bitch.”
Carly shrugged. “Bankers are bastards.”
“So what do I do?” I was trying to keep my hope subdued. This didn’t erase my current issues, but it was nice to have a bright spot. As long as she didn’t shatter it.
Carly pulled a card from her purse and handed it to me. “Reach out to this guy—he’s not as much of a bastard as most, I promise—and tell him you consulted with Daria and she referred you. Show him your proposal, and make an offer on the building that’s more than the asking price.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“The building is worth more. Or it will be once you put your ideas into place. Never fuck someone over on property—Karma’s a bitch.”
I couldn’t help but hope that was true for Davenport. “Thank you. Now will you tell me how Daria is?”
“No. I’m sure you’ll see her when she drops Alana off at practice.”
I had my doubts. “Just a hint?”
“If she wanted you to know, she’d tell you. I’m sorry. She’s made her decision.”
