Misadventures of a Biker by Scott Hildreth

Author:Scott Hildreth [Hildreth, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781642631975
Publisher: Waterhouse Press
Published: 2020-05-18T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Teddi

Being blindfolded by a man had been on my wish list for a long time. Being blindfolded and led into one of my listings didn’t quite qualify. Holding Devin’s hand in mine, I stumbled along the brick drive.

Upon stepping inside, I was met by a faint odor of fresh paint. “It smells like paint.”

“I took the liberties to have them do a little painting when they were in here,” Devin said. “I hope you like it.”

“I hope I do, too,” I said, surprised he’d take the initiative to paint without consulting me. After a few more steps, I paused. “Can you take this thing off yet?”

“We’re almost there,” he said. “I want you to look at it from the kitchen.”

Having promised not to visit the home until it was finished, this was the first time I’d seen the interior since the work began almost two weeks earlier. I hoped like hell the changes would allow me to market it to a wide range of clients. I had less than forty days to sell the home and save my career.

I tugged against his hand. “Are we there yet?”

He released me. I felt him fidget with my scarf. Then he pulled it free. When my eyes adjusted to the light, my mouth flopped open. “Oh. My. God.”

The hideously dark ornate trim—eight-inch crown and base moldings—had been either replaced or painted. The new color, a beige so light it was almost cream, was a perfect choice for blending with the cabinets and dark marble countertops.

“Good Oh My God, or bad Oh My God?” he asked.

“Good. Better than good.” I alternated glances between him and the newly painted trim. “You had them paint the kitchen? Can they come back and do the rest?”

“The entire house is done. Upstairs. Downstairs. Bedrooms. Bathrooms. It’s all done.” He gestured to the floor. “Look at the flooring.”

The new tile floor was gorgeous. Standing on it and looking down at the product, I would have never guessed it was made of vinyl. My expectations had been exceeded tenfold.

“I want to cry,” I said, walking the length of the kitchen. “This is remarkable.”

“Before you ask… The paint has to be paid for if the home sells for within ninety-five percent of ask. If it does, it’s twelve thousand five hundred. If not, it’s free.”

“Twelve grand for paint? That’s nothing.”

“This place will sell now.” He looked at me in wonder. “Don’t you think?”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll be shocked,” I admitted. “Doing it in less than forty days might be tough.”

“Get new pictures taken and do an email blast,” he said. “That ought to help.”

I laughed. “What do you know about email blasts?”

“More than I should. I’ve been doing some reading.” He put his hands on his hips and admired the work. “I like it.”

I didn’t like it. I loved it. I looked at him and smiled. “You’ve got good taste.”

He smirked. “Conceited much?”

“I meant the house.”

“Oh. Thank you.” His gaze floated around the room. “My father used to build homes just like this.

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