Read Online Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 05 - A 380 Degree View by Catharine Bramkamp - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catharine Bramkamp
Ads: Link
for selfish reasons. I liked the large ones because I could use the extra bedrooms for home office space. I liked the house that backed into the creek for a low maintenance water feature. I liked the huge new house on Gold Mountain. So much for complete professionalism. If only I could take two of the houses I liked in Nevada County and situate them between Geyserville and Rivers Bend; I’d have the perfect home. It seemed a fantasy house was the only kind Ben and I could share.
“I like this one.” I agreed. “Get an estimate of the work once escrow closes. I know the local contractors.”
“Do I do that now?”
“No.” I counseled.
I called the listing agent to see what kind of offer we could make. I know Scott was willing to pay asking price, but I also know you never really have to.
“Hi, this is Allison Little from New Century Realty,” I began.
“Are you there with Scott Lewis?” The agent, or receptionist responded; he was probably an agent on floor. My, this is a small town.
“Yes.” I confirmed, a bit tentatively.
“He just won the bid for the library. Ask him what he’s going to do with it.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
“You just got the library.” I announced to my client.
He clapped his hands. “Good, Great! Now what do I do?”
“Wonder how the hell you managed to beat Lucky Masters at his own game,” I responded.
Chapter Five
Sarah’s mother may have viewed her parents as simultaneously evil and indestructible, but Sarah knew better.
“I sort of thought,” she addressed her grandparents. “That you’d be around forever, you know?”
Her grandfather grunted; her grandmother snored.
“I’m going to call Hospice,” she informed them. “The Hospice ladies are very nice. They promised to send Melissa; she is good with this kind of thing. She will help get you out of the chairs, and other stuff, because I can’t.”
It had been so messy, these last three days. She couldn’t leave them alone; they weren’t moving from their chairs or moving much even in their chairs. It was torture to leave them just for the few hours she performed. The bathroom was a very big issue and the cans of Ensure she set out on their TV trays went untouched.
“You’ll be fine, on your feet in no time.” She left the TV on for company and wiped the drool from her grandfather’s lips.
“Tell them Lucky knew all the time,” he mumbled.
“I’ll tell them Grandpa.” She didn’t really listen to the old man, not anymore, maybe not ever. He was harshly opinionated when she was little. He told her what to do, told her to follow Jesus and that Jesus was always right, as if Jesus could choose winning stocks and controlled the outcome of dodgeball games. But Sarah could never figure out if Jesus was heading in a direction Sarah was interested in taking. She learned, over the years, to just say yes and ignore her grandparent’s grim, narrow view of the world.
Tell them Lucky knew. Her grandfather worshiped Lucky Masters. The best job grandfather ever had was working for Lucky Masters. Lucky Masters knew how to raise a house in no time. Lucky Masters knew a bargain when he saw it, Lucky Masters, blah, blah, blah. Sarah knew who Mr. Masters was of course. She saw him in the theater all the time. But who would them be? Didn’t Lucky Masters know everyone? And didn’t everyone know everything about Lucky Masters?
Sarah climbed the narrow stairs to her own little apartment the floor above her grandparents. She wanted to change clothes before she walked down to the theater to become Dorothy, who, by the way, got to leave her house behind and head for a more magical place filled with possibilities and adventure.
She pulled down jeans and her comfortable boots from a sparsely filled closet. She could hear the TV, but it wasn’t too loud, and she could definitely hear if one of them moved or tried to move: the chairs creaked loudly; the thump of their
“I like this one.” I agreed. “Get an estimate of the work once escrow closes. I know the local contractors.”
“Do I do that now?”
“No.” I counseled.
I called the listing agent to see what kind of offer we could make. I know Scott was willing to pay asking price, but I also know you never really have to.
“Hi, this is Allison Little from New Century Realty,” I began.
“Are you there with Scott Lewis?” The agent, or receptionist responded; he was probably an agent on floor. My, this is a small town.
“Yes.” I confirmed, a bit tentatively.
“He just won the bid for the library. Ask him what he’s going to do with it.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
“You just got the library.” I announced to my client.
He clapped his hands. “Good, Great! Now what do I do?”
“Wonder how the hell you managed to beat Lucky Masters at his own game,” I responded.
Chapter Five
Sarah’s mother may have viewed her parents as simultaneously evil and indestructible, but Sarah knew better.
“I sort of thought,” she addressed her grandparents. “That you’d be around forever, you know?”
Her grandfather grunted; her grandmother snored.
“I’m going to call Hospice,” she informed them. “The Hospice ladies are very nice. They promised to send Melissa; she is good with this kind of thing. She will help get you out of the chairs, and other stuff, because I can’t.”
It had been so messy, these last three days. She couldn’t leave them alone; they weren’t moving from their chairs or moving much even in their chairs. It was torture to leave them just for the few hours she performed. The bathroom was a very big issue and the cans of Ensure she set out on their TV trays went untouched.
“You’ll be fine, on your feet in no time.” She left the TV on for company and wiped the drool from her grandfather’s lips.
“Tell them Lucky knew all the time,” he mumbled.
“I’ll tell them Grandpa.” She didn’t really listen to the old man, not anymore, maybe not ever. He was harshly opinionated when she was little. He told her what to do, told her to follow Jesus and that Jesus was always right, as if Jesus could choose winning stocks and controlled the outcome of dodgeball games. But Sarah could never figure out if Jesus was heading in a direction Sarah was interested in taking. She learned, over the years, to just say yes and ignore her grandparent’s grim, narrow view of the world.
Tell them Lucky knew. Her grandfather worshiped Lucky Masters. The best job grandfather ever had was working for Lucky Masters. Lucky Masters knew how to raise a house in no time. Lucky Masters knew a bargain when he saw it, Lucky Masters, blah, blah, blah. Sarah knew who Mr. Masters was of course. She saw him in the theater all the time. But who would them be? Didn’t Lucky Masters know everyone? And didn’t everyone know everything about Lucky Masters?
Sarah climbed the narrow stairs to her own little apartment the floor above her grandparents. She wanted to change clothes before she walked down to the theater to become Dorothy, who, by the way, got to leave her house behind and head for a more magical place filled with possibilities and adventure.
She pulled down jeans and her comfortable boots from a sparsely filled closet. She could hear the TV, but it wasn’t too loud, and she could definitely hear if one of them moved or tried to move: the chairs creaked loudly; the thump of their
Similar Books
