The realtor’s upper lip twitched. “I have the offer right here. I think you might change your mind when you see what kind of numbers we’re talking about.” He withdrew his phone from a back pocket. “Is there someplace we can discuss this in private?”
Nate didn’t miss the way the realtor gave Jordan an annoyed look as though the little boy was smearing feces or climbing the walls instead of cleaning up the small table.
“I don’t need to discuss this or see the offer. The property is not for sale. If you’ll excuse me, it’s time to get my sons some lunch.”
Mr. Driver grunted. He plunked the business card down on the counter with a flourish. “Give me a call when you change your mind. But realize that the offer may not be as generous then as it is now.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left the store.
Bailey wrinkled her nose. “I feel like I should go behind him with a mop to clean up that trail of slime.”
No joke.
“You handled that nicely.” Nate gave her an encouraging nod. He reached for the business card. “Mind if I keep it?”
Bailey shrugged.
“This isn’t the first time.” Rachel chuckled. “She’s becoming a pro by now.”
His eyes narrowed as he watched Bailey help Jordanwith the last of his crayons. “How often do you get people asking you to sell the place?”
She looked to Seth, who was watching the adults, clearly all ears.
“Let’s get the boys some lunch.” She reached down and tickled Jordan’s stomach. “After all, they might starve to death any minute now.” She turned to Rachel. “I’ll be back by noon.”
“Take your time. I’ve got lunch right here.” She lifted the sandwich and shot Nate a thankful smile.
Fifteen minutes later, the boys were seated at the coffee table in Bailey’s living room, their sandwiches and glasses of juice in front of them. A cartoon was playing on the TV, which meant the adults might as well not exist.
Nate accepted a can of soda, which he opened immediately and took a long swig. Bailey sat across from him. He pushed a turkey and Swiss across to her and watched as she unwrapped it and took a bite.
“Are realtors harassing you about selling? How long has that been going on?”
She chewed her bite slowly. There was no doubt she didn’t want to talk about it. Nate just wasn’t sure if it was the subject in general or if it was him specifically that she didn’t want to tell. If it was the latter, it would be hard not to take it personally.
“It started about a year ago.” She took a sip of her own soda. “I get one or two requests per week. Most of the time, it’s through e-mail or over the phone. But occasionally, a realtor seems to think I’ll be more likely to change my mind if they come in person.” Bailey shrugged as though it were no big deal. “I can handle it.”
“But you shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to keep telling people that you don’t want to sell your farm. To justwalk into your place of business today was cold.” Nate took a bite out of his own sandwich with more force than was probably necessary. “What I’m wondering is whether there are a bunch of different clients or if there’s one particularly determined person who is making their way through realtors hoping you’ll eventually say yes. Have they told you why this person wants to buy your place?”
“Not in so many words. Mineral rights have been mentioned. So has using it for residential properties to help Destiny grow, but that was more of a guilt trip. As though it might be my fault if I don’t sell and Destiny stagnates.” She set her sandwich back down. “I mentioned it to Jenny once, and apparently, they aren’t doing anything illegal by asking.”
“That’s true. But you shouldn’t have to deal with this repeatedly.” Nate went over the different options, but there really weren’t many. Bailey was right; what they were doing might be on the verge of harassment, but they weren’t officially doing anything illegal.
“If itisjust one person or company, I keep hoping they’ll eventually give up. Otherwise, maybe the realtors will finally see that approaching me is a complete waste of their time.”
Nate finished his sandwich and then leaned his chair onto the back two legs. He studied Bailey. She might be acting calm and collected, but he could tell she was frustrated. “How do you do that?”
Her brows lowered in confusion. “Do what?”
“Take everything in stride.”
Her laugh came out like a bark, and she coughed, sobering quickly. “Trust me, I don’t. Not internally, anyway.” She looked to the doorway that separated thekitchen from the living room. “Sometimes you just do what you have to do.”
“You don’t always have to do everything on your own.”
Her blue eyes widened a little as her gaze met his. “I called you yesterday, didn’t I?”
Nate slowly lowered his chair to all four legs. “Yeah, you did.”
