answered quietly. He had
no idea what she was hungry for.
Or maybe he did.
***
They found themselves lingering, taking
too long to order, to eat, to sip the last of the bottle of wine Mick had
ordered. Lacey took a long look at the label before the waiter took it away so
that she could recommend it to Maeve when she got home.
Under the blurring effects of a French
Pinot, Lacey had to keep reminding herself to steer clear of funerals or the
late Dr. Baker as a topic of conversation. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that
difficult. He was fascinating, she thought as she comfortably rested her head
on her hand and gazed at him.
Of course, everything was more fascinating
after sharing a bottle of wine.
“So do you like teaching?” she asked as
her coffee arrived.
Mick passed her the cream. “I’m hoping it
will grow on me. I’m a SEAL. I like work that’s a bit more physical.”
Lacey couldn’t resist sending a discerning
gaze across his impressive shoulders. Yeah, I’ll bet, she thought.
He continued, obviously energized by
talking about his preferred job. “SCUBA, parachuting, hand-to-hand combat. SEALs
have the best training out there, and I’m not exactly putting it to use here.” He
gave an almost imperceptible stretch that broadened his chest even more.
Lacey’s mouth watered.
“And I know it sounds crazy, but I miss
the risk.” He paused, sending a nod of thanks to the waiter as he took away his
dish. “So how about you? Why real estate?”
“Oh, I just love the risk, too,” she
joked, tossing his own words back at him. “I never know when a seller might
have a Doberman that they failed to tell me about. And there’s the physical
challenge. When I show a townhouse, there’s a lot of stair climbing involved.”
“Climbing stairs.” Mick glanced downward. “So
that’s how you keep those great legs in shape.”
Lacey fought the blush that was creeping
up her neck. “Seriously, though, I don’t know why I ended up in real estate. I’ve
barely been at it a year now. I think it’s the only career I hadn’t tried.” She
sighed, suddenly feeling pathetic sitting next to a man who had done so much in
his career. Sort of like how she felt sitting next to her sister, come to think
of it.
“Are you liking it?”
“Real estate? I like some parts of it. People
sell or buy homes when there’s something major going on. I like being there to
help them through it. Job changes, marriage, babies, d—” Lacey cut
herself short from saying death, remembering where she and Mick had met. “d—divorce,”
she finished quickly.
“So you’re a people person.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Unfortunately, I’m
discovering that I’m not the best salesperson, and that’s what it really takes
to succeed. I attract the ‘lookie-loos’—the people who just like looking,
but never buy. I probably rack up a thousand miles a week just driving people
from house to house. What I need are more sellers. That’s where the money is.”
She reached for a packet of sugar just as he did, the touch between them only
lasting an instant. Yet still, her breath caught. Her eyes locked on his, and
she memorized them, the delicate pattern of his irises, a striking steel blue
with indigo flecks that looked like turbulent waves on the sea.
A smile curved his lips as he took the
sweetener from her and poured it into her cup. Stirring for her, he paused thoughtfully.
“There has to be some way to find people who seriously want to sell. Maybe
advertising or networking?”
Lacey’s eyes widened, realizing they were
treading into dangerous territory. “What I need—” she began, quick to
change the subject, “—is to be more like my sister.”
“Your sister?”
Lacey nodded. “She’s a huge success. Started
out in financial planning like our dad, and now she’s on all these finance
shows on TV.”
“Really?”
“She’d never put up with clients walking
all over her like I do. The minute she figured out someone
no idea what she was hungry for.
Or maybe he did.
***
They found themselves lingering, taking
too long to order, to eat, to sip the last of the bottle of wine Mick had
ordered. Lacey took a long look at the label before the waiter took it away so
that she could recommend it to Maeve when she got home.
Under the blurring effects of a French
Pinot, Lacey had to keep reminding herself to steer clear of funerals or the
late Dr. Baker as a topic of conversation. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that
difficult. He was fascinating, she thought as she comfortably rested her head
on her hand and gazed at him.
Of course, everything was more fascinating
after sharing a bottle of wine.
“So do you like teaching?” she asked as
her coffee arrived.
Mick passed her the cream. “I’m hoping it
will grow on me. I’m a SEAL. I like work that’s a bit more physical.”
Lacey couldn’t resist sending a discerning
gaze across his impressive shoulders. Yeah, I’ll bet, she thought.
He continued, obviously energized by
talking about his preferred job. “SCUBA, parachuting, hand-to-hand combat. SEALs
have the best training out there, and I’m not exactly putting it to use here.” He
gave an almost imperceptible stretch that broadened his chest even more.
Lacey’s mouth watered.
“And I know it sounds crazy, but I miss
the risk.” He paused, sending a nod of thanks to the waiter as he took away his
dish. “So how about you? Why real estate?”
“Oh, I just love the risk, too,” she
joked, tossing his own words back at him. “I never know when a seller might
have a Doberman that they failed to tell me about. And there’s the physical
challenge. When I show a townhouse, there’s a lot of stair climbing involved.”
“Climbing stairs.” Mick glanced downward. “So
that’s how you keep those great legs in shape.”
Lacey fought the blush that was creeping
up her neck. “Seriously, though, I don’t know why I ended up in real estate. I’ve
barely been at it a year now. I think it’s the only career I hadn’t tried.” She
sighed, suddenly feeling pathetic sitting next to a man who had done so much in
his career. Sort of like how she felt sitting next to her sister, come to think
of it.
“Are you liking it?”
“Real estate? I like some parts of it. People
sell or buy homes when there’s something major going on. I like being there to
help them through it. Job changes, marriage, babies, d—” Lacey cut
herself short from saying death, remembering where she and Mick had met. “d—divorce,”
she finished quickly.
“So you’re a people person.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Unfortunately, I’m
discovering that I’m not the best salesperson, and that’s what it really takes
to succeed. I attract the ‘lookie-loos’—the people who just like looking,
but never buy. I probably rack up a thousand miles a week just driving people
from house to house. What I need are more sellers. That’s where the money is.”
She reached for a packet of sugar just as he did, the touch between them only
lasting an instant. Yet still, her breath caught. Her eyes locked on his, and
she memorized them, the delicate pattern of his irises, a striking steel blue
with indigo flecks that looked like turbulent waves on the sea.
A smile curved his lips as he took the
sweetener from her and poured it into her cup. Stirring for her, he paused thoughtfully.
“There has to be some way to find people who seriously want to sell. Maybe
advertising or networking?”
Lacey’s eyes widened, realizing they were
treading into dangerous territory. “What I need—” she began, quick to
change the subject, “—is to be more like my sister.”
“Your sister?”
Lacey nodded. “She’s a huge success. Started
out in financial planning like our dad, and now she’s on all these finance
shows on TV.”
“Really?”
“She’d never put up with clients walking
all over her like I do. The minute she figured out someone
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