It only took Cal two days after the attic incident to schedule a meeting with the appraiser. I didn’t have an option to say no, especially when Cal went out of his way to plan it around my school schedule.
Cami promised to stay upstairs in her room and play with her toys, so long as I order pizza for dinner tonight. It’s a fair price to pay for her cooperation. I’m not ready for her to ask me questions about the house, especially when there is a risk my plan might fail.
Doubts about Violet’s idea sink in, eating away at my confidence as I near the front door.
All you need to do is make it impossible for Cal to sell the house.
Easier said than done, the antagonistic voice that always speaks up at the most inconvenient times replies.
I roll my shoulders back and open the door. “Hello.”
“Hi there. I’m Mr. Thomas,” the older man introduces himself. From the horn-rimmed glasses to the suspenders, I’m not sure where Cal found this man. Based on the pinstripe suit and his black-and-white wingtip shoes, I suspect the 1920s.
Mr. Thomas shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Are you Ms. Castillo?”
“That’s me.”
He looks down at his clipboard with an arched brow. “Is Mr. Kane here?”
I haven’t seen him since he disappeared inside of the attic an hour ago.
An idea dawns on me.
I pout. “Actually Cal isn’t able to make it today, so it might be best if we reschedule.”
“Oh. Okay then. When are you thinking?”
“Does December work for you?”
He looks down at the calendar on his phone. “Of this year?”
I shake my head. “The next.”
One of Mr. Thomas’s brows raises in question. “I’m not booking that far out yet.”
“A pity then. I’ll be sure to have Cal give you a call in a year then.”
Speaking of the devil, his steps echo off the vaulted ceiling as he runs down the stairs two at a time. “Ignore her. She’s just joking.” He stops in front of Mr. Thomas and offers his hand. “Please call me Cal.”
“Nice to finally meet you.” Mr. Thomas gives Cal’s hand a good shake. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get started. Given the size of the property and my tight schedule, I’d like to not rush before my next appointment.”
“No problem.” Cal shuts the door behind him and gestures toward the double staircase. “Would you like to start upstairs or down?”
“Downstairs works for me.” Mr. Thomas grabs a pen from the inside pocket of his suit.
While he scribbles something on his clipboard, Cal makes it a point to lean in and whisper in my ear, “Behave or else.” His sultry voice makes my heart jolt.
I turn to glare at him. “Or else what?”
“Don’t taunt me.” He tries his damnedest to look intimidating and fails. One would think after growing up with a brother like Declan, Cal would have mastered the art of looking unapproachable by now.
I chuckle to myself, which earns another glare from Cal.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to have a quick look around by myself.” Mr. Thomas looks over at us with a quirked brow.
“By all means.” I shoot him a tight smile.
Mr. Thomas disappears down a hallway, leaving Cal and me to our stare down.
He crosses his arms, drawing my eyes to his rolled-up sleeves. His golden forearms have always been a weakness of mine. “What’s your issue?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I told you I don’t want to sell the house.”
“And I told you it’s happening whether you want it or not.”
“We’ll see about that.” I smirk.
His eyes drop to my lips, making them tingle with a single glance. “What are you planning?”
“Why ruin all the fun by spoiling the surprise?”
“You know how I feel about those.”
“About the same as you do clowns. Thrilled.”
I have never been able to throw out the photo I have of Cal crying at the circus. It’s one of the few things that brings me joy on a shitty day, right after Cami’s hugs and fresh baked goods.
“You know me so well,” he replies dryly.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I better go check on dear Mr. Thomas. I’d hate for him to get lost somewhere between the conservatory and the parlor.”
I swivel on my heels, only to be stopped by Cal grabbing on to my elbow. His hold is soft, although his words come out sharp. “Whatever you’re doing needs to stop now. It’s only going to prolong the process.”
Now that’s an idea…
His head tilts as his eyes scan my face. “Don’t even try it.”
I rock back on my heels. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He steps closer. The smell of him wraps around me like an aromatic hug, making my head swim from the pheromones. “You’re scheming. I can tell by the little sparkle in your eye. It’s the same one you always got right before you goaded me into doing something I knew I’d regret.”
“It’s not my fault that you couldn’t turn down a dare.”
“That’s what I made you think. I was just miserably trying to impress you, even if it meant risking a few broken bones and a criminal record to do so.”
My mouth drops open. “You…” Any reply gets lost in the mess of my mind as I try to process Cal’s admission.
Cal curses under his breath. “Forget I said anything.”
Right. Like I stand a chance of erasing the imprint his words leave behind on my scarred heart.
This is exactly how you got into trouble the first time.
He disappears down the hallway Mr. Thomas went without sparing me another glance.
I take a moment to recover before joining Cal and Mr. Thomas on the property walkthrough. Rather than focus on my conversation with Cal, I spend the entire meeting asking the appraiser questions about the house and surrounding land. I try to keep my face neutral and avoid any shady eyes or sneaky smirks. Cal throws strange glances my way through the whole exchange, most likely because he suspects something is amiss with my interest.
You should have kept your mouth shut.
No going back now.
Based on the appraiser’s notes, the house has many issues. From the leaking roof to some termite damage in the basement, the property needs a serious overhaul. The only place that seems somewhat decent is the guesthouse, but mainly because it was built only ten years ago.
I always knew the house needed work, but I didn’t realize just how much until now. It might take my whole life to get to all the problems.
The appraiser scribbles a few more notes on his clipboard before looking up at us. “Bottom line is I doubt you’d get more than a million for the house.”
Cal shrugs. “That’s more than my grandfather paid for the place back when he bought it.”
I glare at him. “There’s no way we are only getting a million for it.”
“You have some serious termite damage, a roof that needs to be completely redone, windows that are fifty years old and desperately in need of being replaced, and enough small renovation jobs to keep a general contractor busy for a whole year.”
“How much would that all cost to fix?” I ask.
“I’m guessing two hundred thousand dollars, give or take on the finishes. Prices can vary if you know some people in contracting that can give you a good deal.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I know some people who would do the job for the cost of supplies if I asked them.” And they would be willing to draw out the entire process for as long as I wanted, which is a win in my playbook.
Cal’s gaze burns into the side of my face. “We’re not going to remodel the house.”
I turn to face him. “Well, we’re not going to put it on the market for a million when most houses around the lake are selling for triple that.”
“Those look like the Ritz compared to this.”
“Then we give this one a little bit of a facelift.”
“With what money?”
I shoot him a look. “Are you pressed for cash all of a sudden?”
He barks out a laugh. “So you expect me to front the money? Of course.”
The appraiser’s eyes bounce between the two of us like he is following a tennis match.
“We can split the costs,” I offer.
“Where will you get those kinds of funds?”
“You can deduct it from my earnings once we sell the place.” Which is never.
If it were anyone else, I’d feel guilty for talking them into this crazy plan, but this is Callahan Kane. His trust fund is padded with enough money to make his great-great-grandkids little baby billionaires one day. Two hundred thousand dollars is nothing for him.
The appraiser shifts his weight from foot to foot. “In theory, she’s right.” Don’t we love to hear it. “The more you invest into a property, the more justified a higher listing price is. Remodeling a unique house like this would increase the profit margin significantly. Especially since there are lots of people searching for turn-key vacation homes in the surrounding towns.”
I gesture toward the appraiser. “See?”
Cal rubs his stubbled jaw. “Since when do you care about profits? I thought you didn’t want to even sell the place.”
“I’m thinking about the future, Callahan. I know it’s hard but try to keep up with me.”
His nostrils flare. “I am thinking about the future. It’s just that my version happens to be a realistic one.”
“Can we sell the house for more than suggested?” I ask.
Mr. Thomas’s gaze swings between the two of us. “Technically speaking, yes. Since the house is paid off and doesn’t carry a mortgage, you can sell it for any price.”
“That’s not a real answer,” Cal grumbles.
“Just because it isn’t the answer you want to hear doesn’t make it any less real.” I place my hands on my hips and stare him down.
Cal ignores me as he turns back toward the appraiser. “How much increase are we talking?”
The man flips through the pages attached to his clipboard. “If you fix the glaringly obvious issues I found with the place, then you can possibly get an extra million out of it.”
I shake my head. “I want to sell for three.”
The appraiser’s face pales. “Million?”
“Sure. If the neighbor down the road who had less land could sell their property for that price, why couldn’t we?”
“Because their house was brand new and had state-of-the-art everything,” Cal answers for the man standing across from me, staring at me like I’ve lost it.
Maybe I have.
I look out the window that faces the serene lake. “We have more land and a better view of the lake. I’m sure someone will be willing to pay three million for it.”
The appraiser tugs at his tie, loosening the knot as if it was choking him. “Well…it’s your choice to sell the place for whatever price you think is best.”
I raise my chin. “Perfect.”
Cal’s eyes narrow. “You can’t seriously think we will find someone who will buy this place for that much money.”
“Of course we can. All it takes is finding the right buyer. Isn’t that right?” I face the appraiser again.
“Technically yes. Although setting the price too high might turn some buyers—”
I cut him off. “Great. That’s all I needed to hear.”
He readjusts his glasses with a huff. In any other scenario, I wouldn’t be so forward and rude, but letting him speak out of turn might backfire on me.
Cal rubs his chin. “Now it all makes sense.”
I peek over at him. “What?”
“All your questions to the appraiser, your insistence on giving the place a facelift, and the reason why you want to set such a high price.”
Well, damn. He figured me out sooner than I anticipated.
