Read Online Delivered with Love by Sherry Kyle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sherry Kyle
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studied one of the women. He'd recognize that wavy blonde hair anywhere. Claire. He turned off the engine, unclipped his seatbelt, and slid out of the car. She must really want the place. The woman beside Claire was older and looked put together, from her raincoat to her matching scarf and hat. Michael scanned the street and once again saw no car. How'd they get here?
He approached the house with his briefcase in hand.
"Mr. Thompson, I'd like you to meet Nancy Daniels." Claire blew into her hands. She appeared to be trembling.
"You must be cold out here." Michael extended his hand to Nancy. "Please, no formality. Call me Michael. Let's get you two inside." He put the key into the lock and opened the door. The smell of fresh paint wafted from the front room. "Claire, since you've been here before, why don't you show Nancy around?"
Michael kept his distance as Claire took Nancy from the living room to the kitchen. "The house has two bedrooms, one bath, and is nine hundred square feet. We'd be responsible for the utilities, and Mr. Thompson . . ." Claire glanced over her shoulder at him, "I mean Michael, will take care of landscaping."
Michael wondered if the women were browsing or serious about the place. He hoped Nancy would be the one paying the rent. Then he might not be worried about late payments. It might be good to have an older woman around to keep things in order too. No wild parties destroying his property.
"Hey, Michael? I'm sorry to barge in like this." Blake's voice interrupted Michael's thoughts. "I need to talk with you. It's urgent." He stood in the doorway with his arms tight across his chest.
Michael had never seen the man look so distraught. "Ladies, excuse me," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a minute."
Michael kept in stride with Blake as they marched across the lawn. "What's up? You're making me nervous." The smell of smoke and burnt wood filled the air. They walked to the far side of the house. Michael gasped. "Blake, what happened?"
"It was an accident. I left a burner on and a dish towel caught fire." Blake opened the front door.
Michael took in the sparse setting. A black leather couch faced a simple entertainment center housing some stereo equipment. A flat screen television filled the far wall. Blake's single, all right. Reminded him of his own bachelor days.
"Thank God it was only the kitchen." Blake let out a long breath.
Michael picked up a singed potholder. "Looks like you're out of commission for a while."
"That's where you come in."
"Me?"
"Your rental house, I mean. Come, have a seat." Blake motioned him to the couch.
"I can only stay a minute, I've got possible renters." Michael gestured toward his property.
"Here's my thought." Blake sat with his elbows resting on his knees. "I'd like to use the kitchen in your rental till I can have mine repaired. I'll be glad to pay, of course."
Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "But if I have renters, how will that work?"
"Depending on who it is and what they're willing to negotiate, I'd offer to chip in on their rent for the use of the kitchen."
Michael paused.
"I've learned my lesson. You won't have to worry about your kitchen catching fire." Blake clasped his hands together.
"Can't see the harm in that. Sure. You'll have to work it out with the renters. Long as I get paid each month, no problem. "Michael pushed himself to his feet and patted Blake on the shoulder. "You can start tonight. I'm sorry about your house."
"Thanks, man. Appreciate it."
Michael let himself out, shutting the door behind him. Poor Blake. That man loved his natural wood countertops and oak cabinets. He strolled down the sidewalk.
Michael heard Nancy's announcement the second he walked through the door.
"We'll take it."
"Great!" He joined the women in the kitchen. "I'll need the two of you to fill out the application. . . ." He fumbled through his briefcase trying to locate the paperwork. His mind drifted to his down-and-out neighbor as
He approached the house with his briefcase in hand.
"Mr. Thompson, I'd like you to meet Nancy Daniels." Claire blew into her hands. She appeared to be trembling.
"You must be cold out here." Michael extended his hand to Nancy. "Please, no formality. Call me Michael. Let's get you two inside." He put the key into the lock and opened the door. The smell of fresh paint wafted from the front room. "Claire, since you've been here before, why don't you show Nancy around?"
Michael kept his distance as Claire took Nancy from the living room to the kitchen. "The house has two bedrooms, one bath, and is nine hundred square feet. We'd be responsible for the utilities, and Mr. Thompson . . ." Claire glanced over her shoulder at him, "I mean Michael, will take care of landscaping."
Michael wondered if the women were browsing or serious about the place. He hoped Nancy would be the one paying the rent. Then he might not be worried about late payments. It might be good to have an older woman around to keep things in order too. No wild parties destroying his property.
"Hey, Michael? I'm sorry to barge in like this." Blake's voice interrupted Michael's thoughts. "I need to talk with you. It's urgent." He stood in the doorway with his arms tight across his chest.
Michael had never seen the man look so distraught. "Ladies, excuse me," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a minute."
Michael kept in stride with Blake as they marched across the lawn. "What's up? You're making me nervous." The smell of smoke and burnt wood filled the air. They walked to the far side of the house. Michael gasped. "Blake, what happened?"
"It was an accident. I left a burner on and a dish towel caught fire." Blake opened the front door.
Michael took in the sparse setting. A black leather couch faced a simple entertainment center housing some stereo equipment. A flat screen television filled the far wall. Blake's single, all right. Reminded him of his own bachelor days.
"Thank God it was only the kitchen." Blake let out a long breath.
Michael picked up a singed potholder. "Looks like you're out of commission for a while."
"That's where you come in."
"Me?"
"Your rental house, I mean. Come, have a seat." Blake motioned him to the couch.
"I can only stay a minute, I've got possible renters." Michael gestured toward his property.
"Here's my thought." Blake sat with his elbows resting on his knees. "I'd like to use the kitchen in your rental till I can have mine repaired. I'll be glad to pay, of course."
Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "But if I have renters, how will that work?"
"Depending on who it is and what they're willing to negotiate, I'd offer to chip in on their rent for the use of the kitchen."
Michael paused.
"I've learned my lesson. You won't have to worry about your kitchen catching fire." Blake clasped his hands together.
"Can't see the harm in that. Sure. You'll have to work it out with the renters. Long as I get paid each month, no problem. "Michael pushed himself to his feet and patted Blake on the shoulder. "You can start tonight. I'm sorry about your house."
"Thanks, man. Appreciate it."
Michael let himself out, shutting the door behind him. Poor Blake. That man loved his natural wood countertops and oak cabinets. He strolled down the sidewalk.
Michael heard Nancy's announcement the second he walked through the door.
"We'll take it."
"Great!" He joined the women in the kitchen. "I'll need the two of you to fill out the application. . . ." He fumbled through his briefcase trying to locate the paperwork. His mind drifted to his down-and-out neighbor as
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