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Expanding my company beyond Lake Wisteria’s borders was always part of the plan. I spent the last year researching neighboring lake towns, attending town hall meetings, and visiting countless open houses to make sure I picked the right second location for Lopez Luxury.
I should be ecstatic about purchasing my first house in Lake Aurora after how hard it was to get the town to warm up to my plan to drive up tourism and triple property values. Instead, I’m stuck with a hollow feeling while my signature dries on the dotted line.
My real estate agent tucks the contract into her file. “I’ll reach out to your assistant once the owners of the manor on Juniper Lane agree to sell.”
“You’re confident they will?”
She slides the file into her briefcase before throwing thestrap over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It’s only a matter of time. Plus, I already have two other families ready to sell a chunk of their land. It seems people are more willing to part with their properties after seeing what you did with the town.”
“Great.” My enthusiasm falls flat.
Her gray brows scrunch. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No. Keep Sam posted about the other sales.” I stand and walk her out of my private office.
Sam drops his sandwich and takes over walking the real estate agent out to the parking lot.
“The floors have to go,” Dahlia’s voice announces.
What the hell?
I scan the room and hallway for Dahlia, only to find them empty.
“We don’t have the budget for that,” Oliver’s cheery voice follows.
An episode of Dahlia’s show plays on Sam’s computer monitor. I reach to pause the episode, only to stop before I hit the space bar.
Dahlia looks over at Oliver with a frown. “You told me yesterday we were under-budget and on track to finish early.”
“That was before we found out about the issue in the attic.” He tucks a screwdriver into his tool belt.
“What issue?” She looks genuinely confused by his statement.
“Two of the three support beams have termite damage, and the insulation needs to be redone,” he enunciates with a fake smile.
“How much will that set us back?”
“Thirty thousand, give or take.”
Dahlia’s eyes shut for the briefest second before she recovers. “I can work with that.”
Oliver wraps an arm around her shoulder, ignoring the way her body tenses as he pulls her into a hug. “Is now a bad time to tell you about the basement?”
The slight twitch in Dahlia’s eye could be mistaken for a tic, but I know better.
I move the mouse around and check the episode details. It was prerecorded and released yesterday, which makes sense given Dahlia’s longer hair and fuller frame.
Another thing I wouldn’t mind punching Oliver over.
I find myself caught up in watching the train wreck of their relationship play out. Oliver seems to starethroughDahlia rather than at her while she talks to the camera, and his smile never quite reaches his eyes. Dahlia isn’t much better at faking affection based on how she cringes when Oliver explains a few construction issues like a toddler in a hard hat.
Sam once referred to Dahlia and Oliver as the ultimate home improvement couple, but are we watching the same show?
Based on a quick internet search, a majority of viewers agree, describing the show asuncomfortably bingeableand the couple asunfortunately doomed.
“Oh, shoot. Sorry about that.” Sam slams his thumb against the keyboard, pausing the video.
“That was…” I struggle to come up with the right word.
