Passing Through Paradise by Susan Wiggs

Author:Susan Wiggs
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FIC000000
ISBN: 9780446537698
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2008-06-30T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

A late-model, dollar-green Lexus spat oyster-shell gravel as it wheeled into the drive in front of the house, taking the curve a little too fast, stopping a little too abruptly.

From the tasteful wood grain and leather interior of the car sprang a human dynamo, armed with a pocket digital camera, a pager and cell phone attached to her purse and a clipboard crammed with MLS printouts. Her suit was Armani, her pumps were Prada and her jewelry undoubtedly genuine.

Sandra stood at the front door, waiting to greet the real estate agent, but the visitor didn’t come to the door. Instead, she assessed the property. Pacing back and forth in front of the house, she took a couple of snapshots, made some notes into a handheld tape recorder. She walked around to the other side of the driveway to inspect the view.

As she stepped out onto the front porch, Sandra wavered between admiration and aversion. She appreciated the woman’s decisive demeanor even as she was put off by her brusque nosiness. “Hi,” she said. “You must be Miss Witkowski.”

“Sparky,” the woman said, her gaze making a swift arc of the porch. “Call me Sparky. And you’re Sandra Winslow.”

“Please come in.” Sandra wondered why on earth a grown woman would want to be called Sparky.

“My real name’s Gertrude,” she explained, reading Sandra’s mind.

Milton Banks had recommended Miss Witkowski, who specialized in waterfront property. According to Milton, she had years of experience handling high-dollar estates. An aggressive deal maker, Sparky had far more interest in earning a commission than she did in the notoriety of the seller. Which made her a perfect match for Sandra.

But today, she discovered that she didn’t want to think about the real estate agent. She wanted to think about Mike Malloy, kissing her. Giving herself a mental shake, she asked, “Can I get you a cup of tea? I have coffee, too, and soft drinks — “

“I’m fine.” Sparky did a full turn around the foyer. “Trust me, I don’t need coffee.” She scarcely looked at Sandra, but continued her tour of the house, her darting eyes never at rest. “Here’s the way I work. Let’s do a quick walk-through so I can get a feel for the place. Then I’ll put together a pricing scheme and marketing plan, and we’ll go from there.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Sandra gestured around the foyer. The noise of pounding hammers and power tools echoed through the old house. “As you can see, I’m having some work done before I list it.”

“Good. I was going to insist on it.” Sparky scribbled something on her notepad. “How much work?”

“Quite a bit. The contractor says it’s basically sound, but it’s been neglected. It’s listed as a historic building.”

“That’s a huge plus. Huge. Just make sure you run every alteration by me.”

Sandra laughed briefly, but fell silent when she realized Sparky wasn’t kidding. The historical society could dictate window sizes and paint color, but Sparky clearly knew what would sell a house. As the agent walked

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