Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I’ll head over to the house.” I lean up on my tiptoes for a quick kiss. Really, after today, I’m wondering if waiting for movers to move you isn’t worse than sitting at a car dealership for hours. At least at the dealership I had good coffee and snacks to keep me happy. Two things I haven’t had all day, since the kitchen was the first room to be packed up and the cup of coffee Maxim brought me this morning is long gone. “I just need to run up inside to grab my keys and bag.”
“Go get them,” he orders, tapping my bottom, and I roll my eyes before heading up the driveway and into the house.
Even knowing he’s going to do a walkthrough with the guys, I head up to the third floor and go around each room, opening all the closets and making sure that everything is out. Not that it really matters. I’m not selling my place; instead, I’m going to rent it out and keep it as an income property, much like he’s doing with his place in Vegas.
After walking through my bedroom, closet, and bathroom, I head down to the main level and check the cupboards in the kitchen, then go down to the bottom floor. I never used the room there except for storage, so I just make sure everything is out before I head to the door and grab my purse off the hook along with my keys.
When I get to my car, Maxim kisses me once more and tells me that he will see me at the house within the hour. As I head across town, I try to remember if there are still loungers out by the pool at the house or if the owners took them with them when they left. I honestly can’t recall, but if they are there, I’m going to find one and put my feet up for an hour and maybe, if I’m lucky, nap until someone wakes me up.
Just as I’m pulling into the driveway, my cell phone rings over the Bluetooth, and seeing it’s Shell—a newer agent that Matt and I have been helping out when she needs advice—I press answer on the call.
“Hey, girl, what’s up?” I ask, putting my car in park in the driveway, wondering if I will ever get used to the house in front of me being mine. Probably not, just like I will probably never get used to a man like Maxim being mine either.
“I know today is moving day for you, and I really hate to ask for your help, but I have clients who want me to show them the Hudson property, and I can’t get inside.” The Hudson property, the house I’m selling on the golf course, the one I have yet to get an offer on—probably because the monthly dues are outrageous for most.
I just keep reminding myself that all it takes is one buyer and they are out there somewhere.
“The key’s not working?”
“There is no key in the box,” she says, and I pull my bag into my lap and dig through it for my cell phone.
“Let me check something.” I go to one of my apps, and it takes me a minute to pull up the list of realtors who have recently visited the property. The last one was yesterday at noon and is a guy I don’t know. With no way to get in touch with him, I look at my reflection in the mirror and shake my head. I look a mess with my crazy hair, baggy tank top, and the only leggings I had that weren’t packed, but then again, if I’m just dropping off a key, it doesn’t really matter.
“I have a spare key. Give me—” I glance down at the clock and think about traffic. “—maybe twenty minutes, and I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.” She sounds relieved. “I got here early, wanting to walk through and look over the property, so you should be here before them.”
“Perfect, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I hang up with her, then call Maxim, but it just rings and goes to voicemail. Knowing I’ll be back before he gets to the house, I make a U-turn in the driveway and head out to the main road. Thankfully, traffic is light, so I arrive at the Hudson property in less time than I thought it would take. When I pull around the driveway, I find Shelly standing out front, talking on the phone.
Not wanting to be blocked in if her clients arrive, I pull around to the end of the circular driveway and then get out, taking the key for the house with me.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Shelly greets me with an apologetic smile as she steps off the front porch, looking gorgeous. Her long blonde hair is feathered back away from her pretty face, and her white top and black slacks are the perfect accent to her red heels.