“Just think about it,” he heard Madeline say. “We will counter, and if it’s the statuary you feel is undervalued, maybe we can talk about removing that—Yes, I understand that you built the house around the art. But, Mr. DiNapoli, I’ll be frank. You’ve had the house on the market for two years. Perhaps you should consider the idea that not everyone appreciates the sophistication of your artistry, you know? I mean, if you think about it, most people aren’t exposed to the kind of art education you’ve had.… Okay, great. I’ll wait to hear from you, then. But we could close this deal tonight. Just saying. All right.”
She clicked off and turned around, her expression exuberant. “He’s going to consider it. He’s actually considering it! Oh my God, I may sell that ugly pile of stones!” She threw her arms in the air in victory.
Luke grinned at her happiness. “That’s great news, Maddie. I’m happy for you. Listen, we better get going before the weather moves in—”
“What? No!” she cried. “No, no, I can’t risk losing reception in the mountains on the biggest deal of my life! No, Luke, I have to stay put until he calls.”
“We don’t want to be driving across Sometimes Pass at night and in the middle of a really bad storm.”
“Please, Luke,” she said. “This is a really big deal for me.”
It was impossible to say no to that pretty face with the dancing blue eyes. “Okay,” he said, and Madeline made that little sound of happiness again.
“Okay, give me two secs. I have to call Trudi. And my mom,” she said, and punched her phone again.
Luke decided to build a small fire to warm the living room, and went about that as he listened to her chatter to the person named Trudi, who was, judging by the talk, a very close friend. He heard Madeline say in the course of the conversation that she was getting another call. He stepped outside for more wood—the wind was horrible now, bending the old elm in the backyard—and when he stepped back in, he realized she was speaking to Mr. DiNapoli.
“That’s great,” she said, sounding almost breathless. “You won’t be sorry, Mr. DiNapoli. I am sure your beach house will be stunning with the statuary… Well, your wife didn’t want it in Orlando, either, as I recall, so I am sure you can convince her again.”
Luke could hear Mr. DiNapoli’s deep voice on the other end of her cell, rattling on about Greece or something.
“Okay, well, I better get hold of the buyer’s realtor and present the counter. Don’t want them to get cold feet!” A few moments later, Luke heard her say, “Hello, Andy.” Her voice had changed completely; it was low and professional. The voice of the Madeline who had shown up at Homecoming Ranch the first day.
“Madeline Pruett here. Thank you for the offer on the DiNapoli property—what? I’ve had the listing several months. Why?” A moment later, she said, not as smoothly, “Oh spare me, Andy. He’s not going to give it away… Yes, I have a counter.” She marched into Luke’s kitchen, her boots clumping on the wood floors, and told him what DiNapoli would accept. “Hey! That’s not nice. He is a very nice man, and he’s going to put the statuary out in his beach house. So are you going to present the counter to your client? What do you mean, they won’t take it?”
Luke helped himself to a beer and perched on a barstool, enjoying the wrangling between Madeline and the Griggs guy. Madeline was a persistent woman—she laid out every conceivable selling point, down to the superior quality of the stone in the garage. In the end, it must have been enough to convince the other guy, because when she hung up, she whirled around and said, “He’s buying in to the counter offer. I think. Maybe.” She beamed at Luke.
Her announcement was punctuated by a peel of thunder over their heads. Madeline jumped; she looked at her phone. “Don’t lose a signal now, please, please, don’t lose a signal.”
Rain began to pelt Luke’s little house, and quickly turned into heavy, gray sheets. Madeline beat a steady rhythm on the back of a chair with her fist, staring at her phone. “Hey,” Luke said. “Take a breath. You’re about to make the biggest deal of your life.”
Her eyes sparked with delight; she grinned. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to sell this house? When I think of the open houses, the events, the advertising! Everyone in real estate in Orlando laughed when I took that listing. Especially Andy Griggs, so of course it would be him to call with a lowball offer, but that’s okay, I can deal with him. I mean, we countered with half a million off the asking price. A half million! I practically had to tie Mr. DiNapoli down and get him to agree to list the place for three and a half million, which I can assure you is way over market. So to get him to come down—and someone to offer! Sometimes, people don’t care about price, they only care about location or amenities, and they—”
Her phone rang.
Madeline gasped. She stared at her phone. “It’s Andy.” The phone rang again. “What if they don’t take it? What if I have to keep that stupid listing?”
“Maddie… answer it,” Luke said calmly.