Page 86 of Out of the Shadow

I notice she doesn’t say me, and I know she’s referring to someone in addition to me.King. To actually say his name is superfluous.

I inhale. “I think it might be time for us to add another agent. If this is how it’s going to be from now on—if not more so once the show actually airs—I better get the agency prepared.” Now that Marlene’s on salary, it’s time to get more people working here.

She nods as she picks up the receiver to field yet another call. Returning to my desk, I sort the messages into smaller piles. Those looking to buy go in one, while those looking to sell go in another.

My preference has always been for the buy side, although the sell side is supposed to be sexier. While I love doing Open Houses, my first passion is taking people on home tours. Trying to figure out which properties to show them, and guessing which one will make them happy. Because of that, I call all of the potential buyers first. My calendar starts to fill up.

A couple of hours later, I start in on the seller pile. My second call is to a man named Robert. “Hello, this is Angie Russo from Russo Real Estate, and I’m returning your call about needing help listing your home for sale?”

On the other end of the phone, Robert clears his throat. “Thanks for getting back to me, Angie. Yes, I’m looking to move to Florida and I need to get my house on the market ASAP.”

On the message slip, I note where he’s moving. “I’m sure I can help you out with that. Would you like to come into the office so we can go over some details?” My heart races as it does during every consultation with a potential new client.

“Actually, I’m leaving for Florida tomorrow morning and want to get this all set up beforehand. Would it be possible for you to come here so I can show you the house now?”

My calendar is free for the rest of the day. “Will your wife be there as well?”

He lets out a strangled sigh. “Actually, my wife died last month. Cancer. She was diagnosed only five months ago, and now she’s gone.”

I caress my wedding rings. “I am so very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he replies as if on auto-pilot. As if he’s said it too many times. I get it. “We didn’t have any children, and this house is way too big for just me now. Everywhere I look, I see her.” A muffled sob comes through the receiver.

Even though my heart hurts for him, a red flag goes up. Aunt Teresa taught me never to meet someone—especially a man—alone at their house for security reasons. “Oh.” I stall. “Can I please get your address?”

Robert gives it to me and I recognize the street. It’s in an affluent area, right by the ocean. All the houses out there sell for two million dollars plus. While Aunt Teresa’s warning has merit, I’m sure a widower who’s moving to Florida poses no danger. Besides, I understand what it’s like to be left alone after the loss of a loved one. I can sympathize with that.

I agree to meet him in two hours.

In preparation for the meeting, I pull together the documents I’ll need to sign him up as a new client, plus the folder I give all clients who are selling their homes. I check my GPS for the drive time and realize I have to leave soon. Gathering all my documents, I walk to Marlene’s desk.

“I’m going out to 37 Beach Street to meet with a potential new client.”

She takes down the address. “Selling or buying?”

“Selling.”

“Nice address. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Mar. I’ll probably be back after you leave, so I’ll see you in the morning.”

Happy to be getting out of the office and hopefully meeting a new client, I get on the highway and head toward Robert’s home. Music always soothes my nerves, so I turn on the radio. Hunte’s newest song blasts over the speakers.

Damn.

I find myself thinking of the concert we attended, and the way King seemed to be misreading all of dad’s signals. Given their impasse over the trust fund, I’m not surprised, but I think real healing could happen between them. If I could convince King to reach out to his father, maybe they could form a real relationship. One that would fill the large hole in his heart.

What are you thinking, Angie? Stop it right now!

King isn’t my responsibility any longer. He never was.

The GPS announces, “Turn right in one-quarter mile, and your destination will be on the left.”

I shut off the radio and make the turns. The house is set back quite a far distance from the road. My first thought is that the driveway could use some TLC. I bounce along the narrow pavement until it opens up and a grand house appears. It’s a Contemporary-style mansion, with the ocean behind it. The grey paint has seen better days, as has the landscaping.

I park in front of a late model red Mercedes and make a note on my pad with suggestions on how to improve curb appeal. Without these changes, at least one hundred grand will be left on the table. Given Robert’s car, though, he shouldn’t put up too much of a fuss over hiring a landscaper.

Sighing, I get out of the car and grab my tote bag filled with all the important documents. I walk up to the front door, noticing the dead plants on either side of the steps.

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