Page 74 of Your Every Wish
“For the live music, right?” He lifts an eyebrow, conveying just how full of shit he knows I am. “I might have someone for you. He’s expensive, though. Worth every penny but . . .” He blows a low whistle. “You need a builder, too?”
Mimi returns with his coffee and stays to straighten the little packets of sugar. Then wipes the catsup and mustard bottles and starts on the hot sauces. When she runs out of excuses to linger, she rests her hand ever so gently on Bent’s. “You need anything else?”
“I’m good for now, thanks.”
I note she doesn’t ask Emma or me if we need anything, just bounces off in all her bunnydom.
“I was saying I might have a builder for you, too,” he continues. “He doesn’t come cheap either. But his work is exceptional.”
Why do I get the impression he’s talking about himself? “You wouldn’t by chance be that builder, would you?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” He clearly thinks he’s hilarious.
“No offense, but we’ll probably go with someone from San Francisco.”
I catch Emma rolling her eyes.
“None taken.” He takes another sip of his coffee, blasé as can be. It’s evident he’s enjoying toying with us. “The both of you planning on living up here full time?”
“At some point, I’ve got to get back to San Francisco,” Emma says. “It’s where my significant other lives. And Kennedy’s work is in Vegas. We’re just here during the transition.”
“Ah, that’s too bad. There’s no place like it.”
I bet he’s really broken up about it.
He puts his cup down on the table and readies to leave. “It was nice meeting you, Emma. And Kennedy, always a pleasure. You ladies have a good day.”
As soon as he walks away, Emma cuts me a look. “What the hell was that?”
“What?”
“We’re adding a stage for live music, a pickleball court, an event center. Have you lost your mind?”
“Who knows? If Misty’s right, and we find dear old Dad’s bundle of cash, we might.”
“Why were you intentionally trying to antagonize that man? He was nothing but nice.”
“Nice? Are we talking about the same person? Okay, he was very pleasant to you. But to me . . . He told me to get my ass off his stone wall. Who freaking does that?”
“Misty said he was joking. Maybe he was flirting with you.”
“Flirting? Cool, maybe he’ll put gum in my hair next. Was he flirting with me when he said the true market value of Cedar Pines is twenty thousand dollars, or did he think we were two city marks who are too stupid to live? Twenty thousand dollars, give me a break. Even Sheila said the trailer park is worth at least a few million.
“Wait a minute, he talked to Sheila. That’s what the smarmy SOB was about. He thinks we’re getting ready to put the place up for sale and is trying to worm his way in.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Emma rummages through her purse for her wallet and puts her credit card on the table. “You got it last time. How would Bent even know Sheila?”
“Small town. Didn’t you ever watchGilmore Girls? Everyone knows everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if the minute we left Sierra Foothills Real Estate, she got on the phone with Bent and dimed us out. He’s probably told all the big real estate agents in town that he wants first dibs on Cedar Pines Estates if it should ever go on the market.”
Emma waves to Mimi, who has totally forgotten us now that Bent is gone. “You’ve got a rich imagination. Besides, while you were in the bathroom upchucking, I told him that we had a change of heart and are no longer considering selling.”
“He doesn’t believe you. The man is smarter than he looks. And that whole act about how disappointed he is that we won’t be living here permanently . . . Give me a break. He’s working an angle.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re deeply paranoid?”
“You’re too gullible. Mark my words, he’s up to something.”
“What with all the loud music coming from our concert series and the glare from the pickleball lights, can you blame him?” She laughs. “Where did our waitress go?”
