After lunch, Jake and Harmony met up with Sarah to tour the old house. On the trip over from the real estate office, Jake reviewed what he’d learned from the TV shows about ‘flipping’ houses while half-listening to Sarah and Harmony chatter about people he’d never met. And didn’t plan to.
The house looked as dilapidated as the first time he’d spotted it. Until he saw the inside, he wouldn’t know how much potential it held. He wasn’t holding his breath.
But just like Harmony, the house fascinated him. He’d talked himself into believing he could pull off this farce and make a profit. Or he’d move in, make the house the base of his operations, and talk Harmony into sharing it with him. But that wouldn’t work. Too many town gossips keeping track of his comings and goings, and too much of a risk that Harmony would catch one of his many lies.
As Sarah unlocked the front door, he memorized the code she entered to release the box the realty company used to secure the door. How many other houses did it open?
“Ladies first,” he said with a slight bow, holding the door open.
Harmony stepped inside. “Oh, dear. Sarah, you said the owners lived here?”
“They did,” Sarah answered, following her. “They were renovating in their spare time. Why?”
Jake steeled himself for disappointment.
One wall in the front room was stripped down to the studs. Plaster torn off the wall lay in piles and half-empty boxes of nails, a stack of sheetrock, and other building supplies littered the room. At least the floor they stood on appeared to be solid, even if it was crisscrossed with dusty footprints.
“Oh dear is right, although I would have used other words. Well, they’ve made it easy to update the wiring,” he said. “Let’s check out the rest of the place.”
He went first, having been in his share of old houses. Not legally, but he’d spent many nights in decaying homes when he had no money and nowhere else to get out of the weather, killing time by learning the art of picking locks from older teenagers. This house was in better condition than some of those. No graffiti decorated what remained of the walls, no drug paraphernalia lay scattered on the wooden floor, and he didn’t spot any traces of fires being set to provide warmth for temporary inhabitants.
“How large is Oak Grove’s homeless population?” he asked, pausing at the doorway to what may have been the parlor. The room was cluttered with broken furniture and other garbage.
“It varies by the season,” Sarah said. “We have a few, but nothing like Pittsburgh. Why? Is there a problem?”
“Not that I’ve seen so far. But you might want to get a contractor to haul away this stuff.”
Harmony peered over his shoulder. “Looks like someone had big dreams of being able to fix this and then gave up.”
Jake hoped the rest of the house wasn’t in the same condition. “At least they didn’t tear down the walls in here.” But a vague odor made him worry about the kitchen, the next room on the tour.
But the kitchen was clean. Not Harmony-clean, but cleaner than the rest of the house. Except for a few banged-up old pots, the cupboards were empty, as was the refrigerator. But the stink was stronger here, and Jake scanned the room, looking for the source.
“What do you think, Jake?” Harmony asked.
“The first step is to get a clean-up crew to make a stab at the mess. I wish I could figure out where the stench is coming from.”
Sarah wrinkled her nose. “Me too.”
Harmony wandered around the kitchen, sniffing. “That’s odd. Even the garbage can is empty.”
“If there are dead rats in the walls, it’ll be a problem,” he said.
“The odor is strongest here.” Harmony stopped wandering and unlocked the back door.
It was a simple lock, one Jake could pick in his sleep. Nothing in the house was worth stealing, but if he ever needed a place to hide out, this would work.
She opened the door, and the stench strengthened. Sarah gagged. Jake had smelled worse, but it was bad. Harmony slammed the door shut.
“And there’s the problem,” she said. “They took out the garbage but left it on the back porch. Animals have been in it and it’s all over the place.”
Sarah rushed out of the kitchen, phone in hand. Jake followed her but went upstairs to check out the rest of the three-story house. The rooms were small, and he wondered if he’d be able to tear out walls to make them bigger. As he started up the narrow stairs to the third floor, Sarah’s voice floated up to him.
“What are you doing with him, Harmony?”
“He asked me to come along.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
“He’s good looking, smart, and treats me like I’m special. Every guy I’ve ever dated in Oak Grove acts as if they’re doing me a favor by taking me out. They’re looking for a 1950s housewife. Jake talks to me and actually listens to what I have to say.”
Jake didn’t want to move and make a noise that would stop the conversation. It was confirmation that his plan was working. Pride warred with a heavy dose of guilt.
“What does he want from you?”
“You mean besides the normal? Sex? Which will happen when I decide I’m ready.”
Her statement was followed by a long silence, and Jake wondered if they’d gone outside. Then Harmony spoke again.
“I’ve asked myself the same question. And I don’t have an answer. But I’m not sure it matters. He won’t hang around forever, and what’s wrong with having a little fun right now?”
“I don’t trust him and can’t tell you why, but there it is. I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”
“You want the truth? I can almost guarantee Jake will break my heart. And the fun we’ll have until that happens will be worth it. I hope.”
Jake shifted positions, and the stair squeaked. Time to come out of hiding. “Did I lose you two?” he called as he walked downstairs.
“We were trying to stay out of your way,” Harmony said, her eyes not meeting his. A clear giveaway that she was lying. He’d have to teach her how to avoid that. “Do you like what you’ve seen so far?”
He very much liked what he saw, but that wasn’t what she meant. He waited until he reached them to answer. “I’m worried. The asking price is too high for anyone to make a profit from remodeling. The value is in the land. I can see a developer buying the house but tearing it down and putting up a small apartment complex.”
“The Historical Society will fight that,” Sarah said.
“The legal costs will make it unprofitable. Will the historical group require a restoration instead of bringing it up to modern standards?”
Sarah frowned. “With other houses, they’ve been satisfied by preserving the character of the house, if not every detail.”
“It’s a gamble.” Jake crossed his arms. “I’d have to see what local contractors are charging for the major jobs. The house appeals to me, but I haven’t even checked out the roof or the heating system.” He hoped he sounded like he knew what he was talking about.
“The roof was replaced five years ago, according to the paperwork,” Sarah said.
“Good to know.” Jake used his phone to take a series of pictures, mostly of the damage in the front room. “Any other maintenance records you can find will help. Was there an inspection done when the owners bought the place? How open are they to negotiating the price?”
“The ex-husband wants to dump it and run. The ex-wife is positive the house is a goldmine. She’s already called the agency and complained that no one has made an offer yet.” Sarah’s lips curled. “My boss tried to tell her she’s dreaming but hasn’t convinced her. He thinks a few bids at rock-bottom price will help her face reality.”
They’d walked outside while they were talking. Jake stopped to give the house one more glance. “I’m surprised the city hasn’t condemned it,” he said.
“The code enforcement department is so far behind, it’ll be weeks before they ever come out to look. That will give a buyer a chance to get the proper permits to fix it,” Sarah said.
“Harmony, what do you think?” Jake asked.
“Can you imagine how this looked when it was first built?” Her eyes lost their focus. “And what it must have been like to live here? Back when the women wore long, flowing dresses and fancy hats? And the men wore morning coats and top hats? Roses in bloom would fill the garden and flower baskets would line the steps leading inside.”
Sarah grinned. “Did Harmony tell you she’s a history freak?”
“She did.” Jake’s mouth twitched. “That’s how we met.” A lie, but close to the truth, it slipped easily from his lips.
“Are you laughing at me?” Harmony gently punched Jake’s shoulder.
“Absolutely not. I’m admiring your beautiful brain.”
“He’s good.” Sarah chuckled.
“And now I’m going to have to factor in how happy it will make Harmony into my budget.” Jake pretended to draw numbers and do math in the air. “Or I can decrease costs by wrangling her into helping me with painting. Or hauling away the garbage.” He added more scribbles to his imaginary calculations.
“The firm is going to handle that,” Sarah said. “I spoke to my boss. We’ll just add the cost to the fees. We don’t want to attract mice.”
Jake gave the house one last look before opening the car door for Harmony. Could he do this? Not as part of his plot to get the book, but to establish his persona as a successful contractor? What doors would that open for him in other parts of his life?
****
“You’re quiet tonight,” Harmony said.
Jake twisted spaghetti around his fork. They were eating supper at Mama D’s again, but hadn’t gotten the back booth this time. Still, people weren’t interrupting their meal, and the service was excellent, as always. “Sorry, I was thinking about the house,” Jake answered.
“It’s in terrible shape, isn’t it?”
“Yes. At least the structure looks sound, but I’d want a second opinion on that. We didn’t even go into the basement, and who knows what’s down there?”
“Is it worth fixing?”
Jake exhaled loudly. “That’s the question.”
“Don’t do this for me, Jake. It needs to be a business decision, nothing more.”
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I keep imagining how great it would be to bring the house back to life.”
“It got to you, didn’t it?”
“Like you got to me.” One side of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t expect it to happen.”
She shook her head. “There you go again, saying the sweetest things and being hard to resist.”
He arched his eyebrow and twirled the end of a non-existent handlebar mustache. “Part of my evil plot to get you into my bed.”
“You keep it up and your wish may come true.” She fluttered her eyelashes.
He’d been propositioned many times and knew how to control his body’s reaction. That was forgotten. “Your place or mine?” he asked, putting down his fork and using his other hand to discretely adjust himself under the table.
“Finish your supper, Jake,” she said. “We can decide the details later. Anticipation is part of the fun.”
She was going to make him crazy. But he hoped to enjoy every minute.
Supper dragged on forever and Jake suspected she was delaying the inevitable. Whether from nervousness or toying with him, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps she wasn’t as naive as he’d assumed. They ended up going back to her place so she could put her leftovers in the fridge. That was the reason she gave, anyway. Jake couldn’t figure her out. Did she feel safe there and in control? Or was she hiding a dark secret she’d spring on him at the last moment? He was supposed to be in charge, and Little Miss Innocent had turned the tables.
While she fussed in the kitchen, he studied the bookshelves again. Still no sign of The Three Musketeers.
“Find something interesting?” she asked, coming out of the kitchen carrying a tray with two cups of coffee, a bowl of sugar, and powdered creamer.
He rushed to assist her. “You own quite the collection. I wondered which book you’d assign me next.”
She set the cups on the coffee table, making sure each had a coaster centered under it. “You choose this time.”
“I get to challenge you to something first, if I remember correctly.”
“And I have veto power.”
Damn, he’d forgotten that. So much for his plan of having her do a striptease in the front room. “I’m still thinking.” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “How about a kiss for inspiration?”