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Authors: J. M. Jeffries
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window.”
Oh, well, she could make this fun. “You drive a hard bargain. I know exactly the place.”
His eyebrows went up. “Done.”
Merry grinned. She was going to show him. “Okay, you’re on.”
Chapter 5
J ake parked in front of her house, a small bungalow in a quiet Pasadena neighborhood situated on a large lot. The house looked small from the outside, with huge hydrangeas flanking the sidewalk leading up to the shaded front porch. Large live oaks towered over the bungalow. A huge orange-colored cat sat on the first step, staring at him.
He walked up the pathway approaching the cat. The cat didn’t even blink as he put one foot on the step. He walked up to the front door and almost fell in love with its old-fashioned rounded top and small stained glass window set at eye level.
He punched the doorbell and, after a moment, heard the sound of footsteps from inside. Merry threw open the door. The cat darted inside, gave a slight meow and disappeared down the hallway. Merry took one look at Jake and shook her head. “You’re wearing a suit.”
“We’re going to dinner.”
“A casual dinner,” she said with a sigh.
She wore a stylish white sundress with red polka dots. The hem ended midway between thigh and knee, showing off her long, slender legs. The sleeveless dress displayed her toned arms. Her feet were decorated with expensive sandals that had ribbons that wound around her ankles. If not for the fact that he worked with so many fashion-conscious women, he would never have known they were Valentino. He caught a whiff of her perfume and inhaled the heady scent. He tried to identify it but couldn’t. And he thought he knew his perfumes.
“Nice shoes,” he said.
“I know. Shoes are my kryptonite. The secret is out. But if it makes you feel any better, I found the dress on sale at Saks at the year-end sale. Perfect for the beach.” She tilted her head.
“You didn’t say we were going to the beach.”
“I said cheap. I thought we decided on the kind of cheap that doesn’t include Hugo Boss suits and ties.” She eyed him critically. “Lose the tie and hopefully no one will notice.”
He found himself peering over her shoulder, trying to get a feel for her house. She raised her eyebrows. “Would you like to come in a moment and see my home? It has quite the history.”
She opened the door wider and he walked inside, his shoes loud on her wood floor. The hallway spanned the center of the house. On his left was a medium-size living room decorated in blond-colored wood furniture that had a definite arts and crafts look to it.
“The house used to belong to Ernie Cordova.”
“He was a singer. Did a string of Busby Berkeley musicals back in the thirties and forties. This house was party central. In fact, you are walking on floors that supported the weight of W.C. Fields, Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy.”
He didn’t want to be impressed, but he was. “That’s quite a history.” He’d expected a very different house from what she showed him.
He expected to find a house filled with clutter, with drawing materials everywhere. Instead, she showed him a tidy dining room and the kitchen. Each room was a masterpiece of arts and crafts simplicity, with elegant art deco Erté lithographs on the walls and a few canvases that she explained had been painted by her mother. Even her office was a surprise. He had thought it would be filled with tons of photos of herself and the awards she’d won. Instead, he found a couple of photos on one wall and two awards tucked away inside a bookcase.
“I’ve been in many of my clients’ homes,” he said as he looked around at the office, which had been tastefully decorated with wood panels, bookcases, a tilted drawing table with a gooseneck lamp and a tidy wooden desk. “They have photos of themselves everywhere.” Especially Annie Gray, whose small condo was literally littered with her stuff. “Why not you?”
“That’s my
Oh, well, she could make this fun. “You drive a hard bargain. I know exactly the place.”
His eyebrows went up. “Done.”
Merry grinned. She was going to show him. “Okay, you’re on.”
Chapter 5
J ake parked in front of her house, a small bungalow in a quiet Pasadena neighborhood situated on a large lot. The house looked small from the outside, with huge hydrangeas flanking the sidewalk leading up to the shaded front porch. Large live oaks towered over the bungalow. A huge orange-colored cat sat on the first step, staring at him.
He walked up the pathway approaching the cat. The cat didn’t even blink as he put one foot on the step. He walked up to the front door and almost fell in love with its old-fashioned rounded top and small stained glass window set at eye level.
He punched the doorbell and, after a moment, heard the sound of footsteps from inside. Merry threw open the door. The cat darted inside, gave a slight meow and disappeared down the hallway. Merry took one look at Jake and shook her head. “You’re wearing a suit.”
“We’re going to dinner.”
“A casual dinner,” she said with a sigh.
She wore a stylish white sundress with red polka dots. The hem ended midway between thigh and knee, showing off her long, slender legs. The sleeveless dress displayed her toned arms. Her feet were decorated with expensive sandals that had ribbons that wound around her ankles. If not for the fact that he worked with so many fashion-conscious women, he would never have known they were Valentino. He caught a whiff of her perfume and inhaled the heady scent. He tried to identify it but couldn’t. And he thought he knew his perfumes.
“Nice shoes,” he said.
“I know. Shoes are my kryptonite. The secret is out. But if it makes you feel any better, I found the dress on sale at Saks at the year-end sale. Perfect for the beach.” She tilted her head.
“You didn’t say we were going to the beach.”
“I said cheap. I thought we decided on the kind of cheap that doesn’t include Hugo Boss suits and ties.” She eyed him critically. “Lose the tie and hopefully no one will notice.”
He found himself peering over her shoulder, trying to get a feel for her house. She raised her eyebrows. “Would you like to come in a moment and see my home? It has quite the history.”
She opened the door wider and he walked inside, his shoes loud on her wood floor. The hallway spanned the center of the house. On his left was a medium-size living room decorated in blond-colored wood furniture that had a definite arts and crafts look to it.
“The house used to belong to Ernie Cordova.”
“He was a singer. Did a string of Busby Berkeley musicals back in the thirties and forties. This house was party central. In fact, you are walking on floors that supported the weight of W.C. Fields, Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy.”
He didn’t want to be impressed, but he was. “That’s quite a history.” He’d expected a very different house from what she showed him.
He expected to find a house filled with clutter, with drawing materials everywhere. Instead, she showed him a tidy dining room and the kitchen. Each room was a masterpiece of arts and crafts simplicity, with elegant art deco Erté lithographs on the walls and a few canvases that she explained had been painted by her mother. Even her office was a surprise. He had thought it would be filled with tons of photos of herself and the awards she’d won. Instead, he found a couple of photos on one wall and two awards tucked away inside a bookcase.
“I’ve been in many of my clients’ homes,” he said as he looked around at the office, which had been tastefully decorated with wood panels, bookcases, a tilted drawing table with a gooseneck lamp and a tidy wooden desk. “They have photos of themselves everywhere.” Especially Annie Gray, whose small condo was literally littered with her stuff. “Why not you?”
“That’s my
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