Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Yeah...” I interrupted, letting him know there was no need to finish his sentence in order to site the grim obvious.
“Ti and I are gonna move over to Grace’s house real soon. I’m thinking ‘bout eventually buying some property on the other side of the bay and building something over there. Word is old man Jenson’s looking to sell, but I figured for now we’ll post up over at Grace’s house so we have some room after the baby’s born.”
“Grace’s house?” I asked. “You bought Grace’s house?”
Bear smirked. “Nope. Didn’t buy it.” He glanced over at me. “They didn’t tell you did they?”
I shook my head. “What, motherfucker? Tell me!” I demanded, stubbing out my cigarette on the bottom of my shoe.
Bear’s smile grew brighter. Shit, when did he get so many fucking teeth? “Prep, as it turns out, Grace was my Grandma.”
“Holy fucking shit.” The first thought that hit me was pure fucking joy. “Man, I’m jealous as fuck, but that just might be the greatest thing I’ve ever seen or heard. Like ever.”
“Yeah, just might be,” Bear agreed.
“Well,” I pointed at his neck. “Maybe next to that fucking tattoo.
CHAPTER NINE
DRE
“I wish you weren’t leaving tomorrow,” I said to Brandon as we waited for the realtor to arrive. The house still needed some work. I hadn’t yet started on either the gutters or the painting but Brandon suggested we talk to a professional to see what they thought about listing price and sale time. Especially since I hadn’t gotten so much as a single call from my FOR SALE BY OWNER ads.
“I wish I could stay longer, too. But Ralph called this morning and it seems that the entire world is going to crumble if I don’t return by the weekend. At least, you know Ralph, that’s how he makes it sound. It’s only been a few weeks but alas, I am missed.”
Just then a newer model Honda pulled up and a tall man in his early to mid thirties stepped out. He had a lean build and wore jeans with a white button down and a blue blazer. His hair was slicked back and he wore thick black framed glasses that reminded me of my own. His boots were bright red and pointed at the toe.
“Hi, you must be...Andrea, is it?” he asked with a big smile, shaking my hand. “I’m Easton Feather, but you just you can just call me East because that’s what all my friends call me and I can tell from the second that we spoke on the phone that we are going to be great friends.”
I smiled at his enthusiasm. “Yes, I’m Andrea, but you can just call me Dre. This is my friend Brandon,” I said, and the two men shook hands.
“Do I know you? You look familiar?” East said to me, pulling his glasses down the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t think so, but I used to come here every summer so you might have seen me around.”
East snapped his fingers. “That must be it. It’s a small town and feels even smaller when you overhear how some of the women gossip around here.” East fanned himself with his clipboard and looked up at the house over my shoulder.
“So Dre,” East started, as I told you on the phone that I recommend that we tour the property first so I can see what we’re working with and then I’ll pull up some comparable homes that have sold in the area recently so we can get a better idea of price. Then I’ll go over my listing plan with you and let you know what I’m going to be doing in terms of marketing like hosting an open house, posting on the latest real estate apps, and so on.” He looked up at the house and made a few scribbles on his clipboard. “Sound good? Shall we?” he asked, ascending the porch steps and letting himself in the front door without waiting for an answer.
“I guess we shall,” Brandon said with a laugh as we followed East into the house.
Over the next two hours East did exactly what he’d promised and made a full evaluation of the house as well as a plan to sell and market with a full list of comps. After taking pictures for the listing he shook our hands and said good-bye, promising to email me the link to the listing in the morning before it went live.
“He’s an...odd one,” Brandon whispered without moving his lips as we waved back to East who had just pulled out of the driveway and taken off down the road.
“I like him,” I said. “He’s nice. And honestly as long as he can do what he says he can with the house he can be as different as he wants to be.”
“True story,” Brandon said, holding open the front door for me while I passed through under his arm. “Wanna help me pack?”