Mylips pinched tightly as I uncorked the bottle and filled a glass to the halfwaypoint. For a year after getting engaged, I’d grown so accustomed to the idea thatshe would be a woman I’d know for the rest of her life. Hell, that was the casefor his entire family, but when he’d let me go, I had to let the rest of themgo as well.
Bringingthe glass to my lips, I sipped lightly. It was good. A little sweet, a lotfruity. A satisfying burn scratched at my throat as it slid down and instantlyheated my belly. I hated moments like these. Moments that reminded me of allthe people and things I’d lost in the past year. It always just seemed so muchbetter to ignore it all.
Sebastian’sboisterous laughter floated down the stairs and lingered in the air around me, pushingmy melancholy thoughts aside until I couldn’t think of anything but what theywere doing upstairs. I hoped Greyson was having a good time. I hoped they werebonding over something they had in common. I hoped for all of these thingsbecause what I wanted for myself had nothing to do with what I wanted forGreyson, and that was for him to have a good relationship with his father.
***
Mywine glass was empty and I found myself marginally relaxed. A steady beat ofdrums and cymbals crashed through the ceiling and into my ears, as I sat in my armchair,eyes closed and numb enough to feel happy.
Then,my business phone rang.
Grabbingit from the table beside me, I checked the number. Unknown.
“Hm,”I grunted shortly before answering it. “Hello?”
“Hithere. Is this Tabitha Clarke?” a man’s voice replied.
“Thisis she.” I sat up straighter, hardly registering that the drumming from abovehad now stopped.
“Goodevening! My name is Roman Dolecki. So sorry to disturb you at home, at such alate hour, but your assistant gave me your number and said it would be fineto—"
“Excuseme. My … assistant?” I took a glance at my watch. It was nearly six o’clock.
“Ah,he said his name was Alex Lewis?”
“Oh,right. Yes, of course.”
Atthat point, I figured things out. He was calling about the listing, and sosoon! I allowed myself a grin of triumph. Granted, this wasn’t a sale, but howamazing was it to already be gaining traction in just a few hours of puttingthe listing online?
“Whatcan I do for you, Mr. Dolecki?”
Clearinghis throat, he began, “Well, Ms. Clarke, I’d like to first introduce myself.I’m an entrepreneur living in New York City, and I’m looking to relocate somewhere,uh, quieter.”
“Isee,” I murmured, grabbing a pen and notepad from my briefcase to scribble hisname along the lines.
“Iwas just browsing earlier for houses in your area, when I came across the Worthingtonhouse—that is what you’re calling it, correct?”
Inodded to myself. “Yes. Isn’t it gorgeous? The pictures really don’t do itjustice.”
“Ican only imagine,” he practically hummed with delight. “I’d love to see itmyself, and I plan to, but unfortunately I’m unable to leave town for anothercouple of weeks.”
“Oh,well, I can’t guarantee that there won’t be any offers made before then,” I saidregretfully. If we were already receiving interest within a few hours, what wasto say there wouldn’t be more in a few days?
“Ifigured as such,” he replied with a friendly lilt to his voice. “I’m not askingto put a hold on the listing. But I was hoping that it would perhaps help mycase if I used you to also sell my home in the city.”
“W-what?”I was genuinely taken aback. Was it possible that he was serious? I washoursaway, living in a middle of nowhere town in upstate New York. Surely there weremore experienced, more accessible realtors living in Manhattan.
“Itook the liberty of reading your history via your website. I’m very impressed withyour experience and the work your agency has done. I know I could work withsomeone more local, but it’s always easier if the buy and sell are handled bythe same realtor. Plus, and please don’t take offense, I also feel less likelyto be taken advantage of by a small-town girl than a big shot from the city,”Mr. Dolecki explained in that convincing tone you expect from lawyers andsalesmen.
Iwanted to protest, because it did seem a little ridiculous to me, but he didraise a compelling argument. Itwaseasier if I handled both, and althoughit was several hours away, I supposed it wasn’t completely out of the questionto take a day trip down to meet up with him.
Butwhat about Greyson?And the niggling thought irritated me in themost shameful way.
“Mr.Dolecki, can I think about it? Unfortunately, I do have other responsibilitiesin my life that would interfere with me traveling at the moment. And while Iknow that New York City isn’t—”
“Ms.Clarke, if family is an issue, I will personally pay for a hotel room for you,your husband, and children.”
Footstepsthundered down the stairs and I dropped my pen at the abrupt cacophony ofnoise.
