Lost Along the Way(82)

“The closets are adequate, but if you need more storage you can always get some great wardrobes or bureaus at some of the tag sales. I know a lot of people think tag sales are a waste of time, but out here, where people are constantly refurnishing or moving or selling their second homes altogether, you can really get some great finds. It’s a fantastic and inexpensive way to add character to the home, not that this house has any shortage of that. Once you pull up the carpets in the living room I’d bet you’ll find original hardwood flooring, the kind that tracks through the rest of the house upstairs. All you’d need to do is refinish them and they’d be really special. Did you notice how quiet it is back here? There’s something comforting about waking up surrounded by nature, don’t you think? And let’s not forget the fantastic windows in the bedrooms upstairs. They’re new and fully insulated. The light that comes through them during the day is amazing.”

They followed her from room to room, finally beginning to see the possibilities of the property, and by the time Nick dropped the Stillmans back in town an hour later, he had an offer to submit to the seller.

“You were great back there,” he said.

“Thanks,” Cara said shyly, suddenly feeling silly for shooting her mouth off and hijacking Nick’s listing without his permission. “I really hope I didn’t overstep. I don’t know what came over me.”

“What are you apologizing for? I was losing them, and I knew it. You managed to turn that entire appointment around! It was quite impressive. That doesn’t mean I have to share the commission with you if the sale goes through, though.”

Cara laughed. “Of course not. How do you manage to show people who are so lucky to have the opportunity to live out here house after house and have them shoot them all down because they don’t like the carpets or the paint color?”

“People are lazy. These are vacation homes; buyers think of them as a place where they come to relax. Doing any work at all is an added stress in their life. At least, that’s how most of my clients see it. Not you, though. You really know how to sell a piece of real estate. Do you do it full-time at home?”

“Not even close. I would never have the nerve at home to act the way I did. The other women would eat me alive. It’s very competitive.”

“Doesn’t seem to me like you have any problem with competition. Why do you let that get in the way?”

“I’m more the invisible type at home.”

“If you act like you did today, you couldn’t be invisible.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is about your husband? What, he convinced you that you suck at it, is that it?”

“Something like that.”

“Stop listening to him and start listening to yourself. You know way more than you give yourself credit for. And if you don’t want to listen to yourself, then listen to me. You were really great.”

“Thank you—again!” Cara smiled as she held her hand out the window, letting the wind snake through her fingers as they drove back toward the house. When they got to the turn that would lead them back to Meg’s, Nick instead kept his course. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To a bar by the docks. You just helped me get their bid, and while that doesn’t entitle you to a commission, it does entitle you to a beer. What do you say?”

Cara checked her watch. “It’s two o’clock. I should probably get back to the house sooner rather than later.”

“Come on! It’s on me. I want to hear more about your life as a real estate agent. I think maybe I could learn a thing or two from you.”

Cara felt a feeling she barely remembered, but she was pretty sure it was pride. “Okay. You’re on,” she said. “I’d love to.”





twenty-seven


I think we should go out for lunch today,” Meg said the following afternoon while Cara filed her nails at the kitchen table and Jane did sit-ups on the rug in the den. “We’ve spent too much time in the house. Let’s go into town.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Cara replied. “You deserve a break from cooking anyway.”

“I’m happy to go to lunch, I just don’t know if I can pay for it. Can we go somewhere cheap?” Jane grunted in between crunches.

“I’ll treat,” Cara offered. “You went and bought Meg stuff from the farm stand and I haven’t done anything yet. Let me take both of you to lunch to say thank you.”

“Sounds good to me!” Jane yelled. She hopped up from the floor and grabbed her sunglasses from her bag. “I’m ready when you are!”

“Great. Let’s go have a nice afternoon in town.”

They all piled in Meg’s car and drove to East Hampton, grabbing a table at an Italian restaurant with sidewalk seating and an impressive selection of wood-oven pizzas.

Jane had just ordered a bottle of wine from the waitress and a round of waters with lemon when Meg caught sight of Tracey Hines, a woman she typically tried to avoid at all costs. Close on her heels was her crazy toddler, Milo, who had no respect for his parents, other children, or the word no, and who Meg was reasonably certain was going to grow into a sociopath. Tracey waved as Milo weaved in between tables, knocking into anything in sight, waving his hands over his head, and screaming like a teenage girl at a Katy Perry concert. Much to Meg’s horror, Tracey stopped at their table to make small talk.