Selling Dreams (The Riviera Romance Series Book 1) by Susanne O'Leary

Author:Susanne O'Leary [O'Leary, Susanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-12-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The weeks flew by with astonishing speed while Flora struggled to maintain order at the agency. Daisy often sneaked off as the glorious weather and good winds made windsurfing more enticing than working in a small office. Iris reluctantly handled clients with more honesty and courtesy, and Flora tried to convince sellers to lower their prices to get a quicker sale. It was all very hit and miss at the beginning, as sellers withdrew their properties and buyers were disappointed with the more realistic picture of their dream house. But she was delighted to see some of the houses that had been on their books for years finally sporting a ‘Sold’ sign, albeit for a much lower price. She was able to tell Chantal sales were good and old properties finally off their books. Chantal sighed a thank you.

“How’s your husband?” Flora asked.

“Better. He’s recovering well. But he’s being transferred to a hospital in Paris for brain surgery when he’s strong enough.”

“Oh, that sounds serious.”

“Serious, yes. But there is a good chance he will recover fully even though rehabilitation will take a long time.”

“That sounds like good news,” Flora said. “Even though it will be hard at first.”

“Yes. Very hard. I hope you won’t mind continuing to run the agency for a while longer?”

“Absolutely not,” Flora said, her shoulders relaxing. What a relief. They still had time to turn things around. “Things are going well. We’ve sold that house by the vineyard down the hill from Ramatuelle. Not the asking price but—”

“That old wreck? Excellent,” Chantal cut in, saving Flora from having to confess the house had gone for a song. “I haven’t had time to check the bank statements, but I trust you to make sure we get sales and our commissions.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Well, I’ll say goodbye for a while,” Chantal said, sounding tired. “I’ll call back from Paris in a week or two. Thank you for looking after the agency so well.”

“You’re welcome,” Flora said and hung up with just a tiny pang of guilt.

***

Ross called one afternoon in late June. “Hey, how are you? I haven’t been in touch for a while.”

“We’ve been very busy. And Daisy keeps bunking off to windsurf, so Iris and I are run off our feet trying to keep up.”

He laughed. “My fault, I’m afraid. I’ve been sending her a text every time the wind’s good. And then she got this new board.”

“That must have cost a—” Flora stopped. “You bought it for her?”

“Uh, yes. Why not? She’s such a sweetie and has introduced me to all her friends.”

“Well, that’s very nice,” Flora snapped. “And here am I, busting my gut to run this agency practically single-handed while Daisy waltzes around keeping you amused.”

“Sorry,” Ross said, sounding nothing of the kind. “But, hey, why don’t you take a break and come up to my house later on? We can crack open a beer or two, share a pizza or something?”

Flora calmed down. There was something beguiling about Ross that made it impossible to be cross with him for more than two seconds.

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