Page 13 of Taking a Chance on Charlevoix
Choking, Marlowe grabbed a paper towel to spit out the flaky stuff with ricotta cheese. Shari reached over and squeezed her arm. “My, you really are a hot mess if you would believe that.”
When had Shari turned into a prankster? Marlowe didn’t know what to say. She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. She’d never known Shari to be a prankster. Bringing up her delicate diamond-studded watch, Shari checked the time. “I have a proposition for you. Could you stop in my office in about fifteen minutes?”
Now what? Feeling disgusted with everyone in that darn office, Marlowe eyed the coffee cake that she’d thrown away. “Sure. Of course.” She hated to sound impatient but today she was short on time.
“See you then.” As Shari turned to go, Marlowe edged toward the trash bin. The room was empty and she rescued the pastry.Plopping it onto a plate she pushed the button to open the microwave. “Five second rule,” she mumbled to herself.
Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on Shari's door. “Come on in!” Shari called out.
Entering Shari's office was like being pulled into a Monet painting. The sofa and chairs were all ivory but the cushions were pastel puffs, as if clouds had drifted from the sky to take up residence on the sofa. In all the years that Marlowe had worked here, she had never been in this office. Shari usually kept to herself.
“Coffee?” An expensive coffee machine was percolating in the corner. So did Shari only come to the break room to visit? Marlowe had more questions than answers.
“No thank you. I have an appointment in half an hour in Olde Naples.”
“Ah, Olde Naples.” Sinking onto the sofa, Shari motioned to one of the equally puffy chairs that could spin around to view the city through the expansive plate glass.
“Your schedule looks quite ambitious for the next couple of weeks.” Shari got right to the point as Marlowe took a seat.
“Just making up for lost time.”
“Have you placed the ads yet for your open houses to build interest?” Shari asked.
“Not yet.” Marlowe didn't know where this was going. Why was Shari checking up on her? Of course they all were interested in everyone doing well. Their individual efforts contributed to their quarterly bonus. But after Landon’s last stunt, she was wary.
“Would you consider using Trevor Wilshire to help with the details? He's very good and right now I don't seem to have enough for him to do.”
Having some help was appealing. Jenna had been good on the tech side, but Trevor was an expert. As Shari’s assistant, he’d probably learned a lot about the market.
“Just to be clear, Trevor is a student, correct?”
“Right now, yes. I think he may have a future with us.”
“If we can come to terms, great. And thank you. I could use some help.” Marlowe still had to get things in play for renovating the house up in Charlevoix. She was a little short on time.
To her surprise, Shari threw out an hourly figure that seemed way too reasonable. Marlowe had to tread carefully. “Do you mind if I ask why you’re helping me? Just wondering.”
“Look, Marlowe, the Bobby Jensen deal is wrong in a lot of ways. I'll back you on that, and I think you should work on it. Get your piece of the action. Meanwhile, if you want to use Trevor, fine. He's a distant cousin and I've been trying to train him in the business.”
In a weird way Marlowe was flattered. Shari considered her good enough to train a distant cousin? And Marlowe definitely wanted some portion of the Bobby Jensen deal. They both knew that Landon ran the company. There was no HR department in place to establish and uphold company policies. But Shari carried a lot of weight, although Marlowe had never known why. Maybe her seniority, maybe more.
By the time she left the office a little while later, Marlowe’s mood had improved. Landon hadn’t arrived yet to dampen her spirits. As she clicked open the door to her convertible, she felt she had Shari on her side, a definite plus. There was power in numbers, or so she’d learned during her family reunion. Pressing the tab for Sport Mode, she roared away.
Chapter Six
MARLOWE
What was this about? Marlowe's mind spun as she drove down to Olde Naples for a meeting. Why had Shari stepped up to help her? In all the years they'd worked together Shari had held herself aloof. Marlowe knew very little about the woman. Usually Shari didn’t hang around the break room and rarely joined them for a drink after work. What had changed?
Her phone had been pinging all morning and as she sat in Donatellos’ driveway, she checked her messages. Gabby had sent contact information for two architects. Now the ball was in her court. Marlowe could get on with moving ahead with her part of the Charlevoix project. Gabby listed the strong points of both men and also the reservations. Marlowe liked her new friend’s direct approach.
By the time she stepped out of her convertible and made her way up the stone path under the shade of a huge banyan tree, Marlowe was in a pretty good mood. Olde Naples prided itself on its antiquity. The E in the name Olde Naples made that very clear. Unfortunately, like a lot of cities in Florida, buyers were snapping up older properties with the intention of tearing them down. Bright white stucco buildings with sharp edges andmodern design were springing up everywhere. The change was breaking Marlowe’s heart.
In contrast, this precious old fashioned home owned by Marco and Carmella Donatello was her kind of property. A home with heart. The pretty front entry was picture perfect, sporting climbing roses and pots of begonias in bright pink and orange. A white wicker porch swing was an added touch. She had to find a good buyer for this sweet property. Marlowe rang the bell.
After a few seconds, she heard Carmella’s footsteps on the tile floor. Her client opened the door with a smile that lit up her entire face. Unlike the small bird-like women who played golf every day, Carmella loved to cook and often wore an apron. But not today. Today was business. They were getting her house ready to go on the market.
“Come in, come in.” Carmella motioned her inside and then led the way down the hall and through the kitchen to the back patio and the kidney shaped pool. Bright pink frangipani trees framed the area, along with a variety of ferns. Sunlight sparkled on the blue water. “How about some lemonade? I was just making a pitcher.”
