Part 13 (2/2)
”There must be something I can do.”
”What you want is physiotherapy.”
It just got worse and worse. ”Physiotherapy? I didn't put my back out. I got shot.”
”I know. And your muscles need rebuilding. A good physio can get you back on the road sooner than you will by running yourself into the ground.”
Rob couldn't describe the turmoil swirling around his gut. He didn't mean to speak, yet he blurted, ”I need to get out of this town.”
”Why?” Doc gave him a penetrating look that made him feel as though he should be reclining on a couch reciting all the ills done to him in childhood.
He wasn't going to tell a septuagenarian doctor that a confusing mix of hot s.e.x and no future with one stunning Realtor was driving him away so he said, ”I don't belong here.”
”Of course you do. You've lived most of your life here. People are proud of you. And you're the only living connection with your grandmother. She wanted you to stay. Why do you think she left you the house? It's not like you need the money with that fancy job of yours.”
He'd never even thought about why Gran had left him Bellamy House. He'd a.s.sumed it was because he was her closest relative.
”What if I don't want to stay? What if I can't?”
”There are charities your grandmother supported who would love to get that house.”
A light bulb went on inside his head. He wasn't rich, as Doc Greene seemed to be suggesting, but he did fine. Maybe that's what he'd do. Give the place to some deserving charity his grandmother had supported. That would take away this weird feeling he had that he had to choose the next owners, that the property should go to someone his grandmother would have approved of. If he gave the place away it would also sever his relations.h.i.+p with Hailey. He'd make sure she still got her commission for the sale. He owed her that. However, if he gifted the property to charity, he wouldn't be forced to see Hailey several times a week and relive their single night together like a particularly hot erotic movie that looped endlessly in his head.
Doc scribbled on a pad, ripped it off and handed him the page. ”That's for the painkillers.” Then he scribbled on another page. ”And that's for a physio who is also a personal trainer. She'll get you doing your mile in six.” He gave him a sharp look. ”When your body is ready.”
”Thanks, Doc.”
He limped out. While he waited for his prescription to be filled downstairs in the pharmacy he noticed that the latest issue of World Week was on the stands.
He bought it along with the pills. Not wanting to go home, he headed to the friendly cafe down the road. Maybe a professional could brew him a coffee that would taste better than what he'd made himself this morning.
When he entered Beananza he had the place almost to himself. He'd missed the lunch rush and whatever rush was next hadn't started yet. He ordered an Americano.
”You're the guy who inherited Bellamy House,” the barista said.
”That's right.”
The guy wore a s.h.i.+rt that read Grounds for Divorce, and featured a cartoon of a woman in a business suit pouring coffee from a pot that was empty, while her suit-clad spouse sipped from a full mug.
”Why is it always the guys who are depicted as selfish morons?” He wondered aloud, pointing at the s.h.i.+rt.
The barista looked down as though he didn't remember what s.h.i.+rt he'd put on that morning. ”Maybe because they so often are.”
He grunted. He'd like to get a s.h.i.+rt that said Men Should Stand Up for Each Other!
”Hailey and Julia are both friends of mine,” the guy in the offensive s.h.i.+rt added. ”They sure have been thrilled about showcasing that house.”
”They've done a great job,” Rob said. Because they had. Hailey had also done a great job messing with his head and ruining his day. That, however, was n.o.body's business but his.
He took his coffee to a spot where he felt he'd be least likely to be disturbed. After popping a couple of the pain pills, he opened World Week.
Things were heating up in a Baltic state, one he'd been to before and knew well. The photographer Gary had sent had done an okay job, but he knew he could have done better.
The knowledge irked.
Famine in Africa. And the same obvious photos. The same tired stories. He was convinced he could have found something fresh in this latest heart-wrenching human tragedy.
Disasters were occurring all over the world and other people were reporting it, other cameras were capturing it. He felt like banging his mug down on the counter in frustration.
He flipped through the domestic news. Politics, more home foreclosures, the religious right-some days he wanted to crawl under the Aurora Bridge and live with the troll.
He left the magazine on the counter and went home. His cell phone rang. He saw it was Hailey and in his eagerness to answer he fumbled the phone. His bad mood and the pain in his leg vanished.
”Hi,” he said. ”And yes, I'm free tonight.”
There was a tiny pause.
”h.e.l.lo, Rob. I've got a new client who is very interested in Bellamy House. I'd like to bring him around tomorrow around eleven.”
Okay, she was putting on her professional act and he got it. She'd done the same this morning though she hadn't seemed quite so professional when she was naked. Still, with every article of clothing she'd donned he'd felt the warm, pa.s.sionate lover easing away from him and Hailey the Realtor taking her place.
Well? He'd taken the deal, hadn't he? Agreed to just one night. How could he have imagined that one perfect night could mess with him so badly? And now he had to see her on a regular basis? Pretend they were only business acquaintances?
He couldn't do it. He'd find a worthy charity to take the house. And then he'd leave. So, he couldn't run a mile in six. Or sixty the way he felt. But he could convalesce in a hundred different places around the globe, not one of which was full of memories. And where there'd be no Hailey making him feel that he wasn't enough of a man for her.
He made himself focus on the conversation.
”Him? A single guy? What does a single guy want with Bellamy House?”
”Maybe he's planning to settle down and have a family,” she said, all neutral, as though she weren't sticking a knife into him.
”Eleven is fine,” he said. He didn't like the sound of a single guy buying the property. He'd give Bellamy House to a charity first. He wasn't about to share that with Hailey just yet. He needed to do some research first.
He also didn't like the tone she'd used with him. Oh, it was professional and friendly enough. That was exactly the problem. He didn't want professional and friendly. He wanted s.e.xy and intimate. She'd warned him up front how it would be; all the same it hurt to go from client to lover and back again within twelve hours. In fact it sucked.
He said goodbye, and, for the first time since they'd started working together, he determined to be far away from his own house for tomorrow's showing.
He'd thought his day couldn't get any worse, his mood any blacker when his cell phone rang again. He didn't recognize the local number.
”Robert Kla.s.sen?” a cool female voice inquired.
”Yes.” n.o.body called him Robert unless they were trying to sell him something and whatever it was, he wasn't buying.
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