Part 6 (1/2)
”It rained today. Nothing new there. Let's see. I destaged a house that sold, no doubt because of my excellent staging.”
”Is the statue of Lenin still keeping watch over Fremont?”
She smiled into the phone. ”Of course. Oh, and I was trying to decide what to wear for our date next week. I can't wait to meet you in person.”
”I can't wait either, sweetie. I've never felt so close to a woman before.”
”I know. I feel the same and it's so strange. We've never even met.” She moved a pot of rosemary on her windowsill, centering it. ”I noticed you took your profile down.”
”I'm not interested in anyone else.”
She felt as though she'd endured years of feeling like second-best. Of giving out her number to men who never called her. Of seeing taller, thinner women walk off with guys she was interested in. So to have this man choose her, out of all the women on LoveMatch.com was incredible.
”I feel the same way,” she admitted.
They never talked for long, but she always felt like the luckiest woman in the world when she hung up smiling.
She'd booked a hair appointment for Tuesday and then, thinking what the h.e.l.l, added a mani, pedi and a facial into the mix.
When she imagined that beautiful, s.e.xy man seeing her for the first time, it was easy to make sensible food choices. Dinner was a salad with oil and vinegar and a tasteless piece of broiled fish because she could still lose a pound or two by Tuesday if she remained disciplined.
She was contorted on her green yoga mat, trying to keep up with a Pilates DVD that would tighten her core, define her muscles and-something the cover copy had neglected to mention-make her sweat like a pig, when the ding on her computer signaled an incoming email.
Only too happy to give her core a rest, she leapt up to find, as she had hoped, that the email was from Gregory.
Hi sweetie, I'm in a jam and I don't know who else to turn to. My ex-wife ran up all my credit cards so I had to cancel them. My flight was canceled and I need to book a new one to get home in time for our date. I hate to ask, but could you wire me the money for the flight? It will be $1,200. I'll pay you back when I see you.
Love, Gregory.
She read the email a second time, feeling worse by the second. Don't jump to conclusions, she scolded herself. He could be legitimate. Anyone could get stuck in a foreign country without a credit card. Although it was hard to imagine why his own company couldn't advance him the money for an airline ticket. In the background, the Pilates woman was encouraging everyone to ”tighten those glutes as you lift your spine off the mat. And hold.”
Julia sat down in front of the computer, nibbling her lower lip as she read the email yet again, then began typing.
Dear Gregory, I have to admit your request has puzzled me. There are warnings all over the website about not sending money to strangers. Maybe if I'd actually met you, it would be different. How would I even send you the money?
Within a minute a response came.
Hi sweetie, Please trust me. I want us to be together.
And then he'd included full instructions on how to wire money via Western Union.
And that's when she knew she'd been scammed.
”DO NOT SAY, 'I told you so,'” Hailey warned Rob. ”Julia's very sensitive about what happened.”
He held up his hands. ”Hey, I was only trying to warn her. Not trying to score points. I didn't want the guy to turn out to be a scammer. She seems like a nice woman. I'm sorry it happened.”
”Okay,” she said more mildly.
His eyes crinkled at the edges as he faced her. ”But to you, I can say it, right? 'I told you so.'”
”It was the lucky guess of a suspicious mind.”
”Bull. It's an instinct honed by years of gathering and reporting news.”
”We won't mention her getting scammed when she gets here. I don't want her to feel stupid. It could happen to anyone.”
”Why is she coming, anyway?” And Hailey had a feeling there was an unspoken and why are you here? in his tone, as well.
Neither of them had mentioned that steamy kiss they'd shared in the bedroom yesterday. She was happy she'd had a dramatic story to impart the minute she got to Bellamy House so there were no awkward silences, no talking about something she preferred to ignore.
Even if Rob did look far too kissable in worn jeans, a much-washed and faded T-s.h.i.+rt advertising some band she'd never heard of and those bare feet that she found ridiculously s.e.xy.
”I'm not happy about the way we've staged the small bedroom upstairs. It was fine to have it as a nursery when the MacDonalds were looking at it. However, most of the people who look won't have a baby so I'm thinking of turning it into an older child's bedroom with a single bed and a desk.”
”Can't the people who look at houses figure out where their own stuff will fit?”
She thought about it. ”Some can, I guess. Most only see what's in front of them. In this economy we want to do everything we can to make a home so inviting a buyer can't resist. Since this is a family neighborhood with schools nearby and that big park right across the street, it makes sense to stage it for a family.”
”So you put a single bed and a desk in it. That's pretty much how it was when I grew up.”
”I'm glad you approve of something we're doing. Which reminds me, you're going to have to make yourself scarce. Two sets of potential buyers are coming today between two and three o'clock.”
He scowled. ”We made a deal. You could keep the listing but I'd be living here.”
”And I said I'd work around you. That means you leave fifteen minutes before the appointment time so I have a few minutes to clean up after you.”
”Hey, I'm neat.”
”I know you are. And what a relief that is, but I'll need to put your shoes away and hide your toothbrush. Stuff like that.”
”You leave my toothbrush alone. A man's toothbrush is a personal thing. Handling it implies intimacy.”
And just like that the intense l.u.s.t she'd experienced during that kiss came roaring back. She was trying to forget it, and based on the way he was acting around her, so was he. Now he mentioned intimacy and she felt the warmth of his words touching her.
”Fine. Put away your own toothbrush.”
”Okay,” he said gruffly and she knew he'd been thinking about that steamy kiss, too.
They heard a knock and then the front door opening. ”Hi,” called Julia.
”Hi. We're in the kitchen.” She put her finger over her lips as a reminder not to mention Julia's troubles.
Julia swept in with all the drama of an opera diva preparing for her final, tragic aria. ”I feel so stupid!” she cried. ”I am never, ever dating again.”
Well, so much for worrying that Rob might bring up a difficult subject. She might have known Julia would be more than happy to share.
Even though her friend spoke in a tragi-comic tone, Hailey could see she'd been crying recently.