I’m Nora Samson, the realtor.”
Tracy shook her hand. “I’m Tracy Valentine. My husband’s brother is the one interested in buying the place. My husband Jason is a contractor so he knows what to look for. My brother-in-law, Mike, doesn’t know squat about houses so he relies on Jason for stuff like this.”
Mike came up behind her, Job still on his back but trying to touch the walls. “Hey, I know squat.” That made Nora laugh but Mike thought it was just out of politeness. He repositioned his left arm to make sure Job was secure and extended his hand. “Mike Valentine.”
The beautiful blonde smiled. “Nora Samson. Is your wife here, also?”
“No,” said Mike. “I’m a widower.”
She seemed embarrassed. “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s OK,” said Mike. “How could you know?”
Job started jackknifing again and saying, “Down, down.”
Mike lowered him to the ground and Job was off like a shot.
“Oh, no,” said Tracy, and started after him.
“Yours?” asked Nora.
“My nephew.”
“So you’re alone?”
“Yep. All by myself.”
“I’m not trying to talk you out of buying this, but it’s a big house for just one person.”
Mike looked at her eyes and saw green circles floating in white floating in long thick lashes and alabaster skin. It had been eighteen months since his wife and daughter died.
“Well, hopefully I won’t be alone forever.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling, “I see.”
Mike suddenly felt a little uncomfortable and looked around for Jason. “Hey, little brother, where you at?”
“In the kitchen.”
Nora made a graceful turn and said, “This way.”
She fell in alongside of Mike. “What kind of work do you do, Mike?”
“I’m medically retired from the Sacramento Police Department. I was on the SWAT team but lost the hearing in my right ear from an explosion.”
“Oh,” she said. “I’m surprised. You certainly look healthy.”
He was healthy. Since the accident that killed his wife and daughter he had dedicated himself to keeping fit to stop from going insane. He’d been a martial artist since before he went in the Army, but now he was a fanatic. Martial Arts, his family, and his best friend were the only things that kept him from sticking his gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger.
“Thank you,” he replied. “I try.”
She led him through a large living room into the big, open kitchen with a large window overlooking the pool and backyard which ended thirty yards from the American River.
“I love this kitchen, Mike,” said Tracy. “It’s big with plenty of counter and storage space. It’s got a great lay out.”
Jason was opening cabinets and drawers and checking underneath everything. “It all looks good, Mikey. They took their time building this one.”
Nora showed them the four upstairs bedrooms and two baths, then took them on a tour of the remainder of the house. There were two bathrooms and an additional bedroom downstairs, plus huge living and family rooms and all the extras. Nora led them to the backyard and the swimming pool and enclosed Jacuzzi. If the fog were not so thick that January morning, they could have seen the American River with her heavily wooded banks of valley oak, cotton wood trees, and wild berry vines stretch out lazily on its way to the Pacific Ocean.
By the time the tour was finished, Tracy had told Nora everyone’s life story and all of Job’s ailments since birth. Nora politely listened, but asked too many questions about Mike. Tracy sensed Nora’s interest and liked the tall blond so let her brother-in-law’s story spill out. If Mike had known, he would have done his best to stop her.
“Mike’s just a doll,” Tracy whispered to Nora. “He’s a nice guy, good-looking, filthy rich, and totally available. Every single woman he meets is trying to land him. He’s just having a hard time getting over Maria and his little girl. What a tragedy that was. So, so sad. It still breaks my heart just thinking about it. He needs a woman in his life again. He wants one, too. He’s told me so many times. But he was just so in love with Maria. She was such a sweet woman. She was Hispanic – from Mexico; a truly beautiful woman. And that little Amy! What a precious little girl. Only four years old when it happened. And that awful truck driver driving while he was drunk. Oh, well. Mike got a huge, I mean huge, I mean really huge settlement from it and he’ll never have to work again. But he wants to work. That’s just the kind of man he is. A wonderful man, just like my Jason - hard working, responsible men from a strong middle class Scotch-Irish family - raised right here in Sacramento. Mike is a fourth degree black belt and martial arts are his passion. He holds self-defense seminars and teaches karate. But he is so lonely. Such a shame - a good man like that and so many good women paired up with complete jerks. The thing is, Nora, he wants to be married. He wants a wife. He hates being alone. But he was just so deeply in love with Maria. And that beautiful, sweet little girl. Such a tragedy. I swear, Nora, I tear up every time I think about it.”
Mike and Jason didn’t come in from the back yard until all the beans were spilled. They saw Tracy talking to Nora and Nora looking at Mike like he was a steak done just the way she liked it.
Jason whispered to Mike. “Looks like Trace has you married off again.”
Mike could only shake his head. “She means well,” he said.
The truth was that Nora wasn’t Mike’s type. A beautiful, classy, intelligent woman like Nora Samson was normally every man’s type. But Mike Valentine was different. He was one of the few males in the United States of America who didn’t prefer tall, willowy blondes. In fact, he liked shorter women, with thick black hair and exotic features, like Maria. And there was something about a woman speaking with an accent that drove him crazy.
By the time the tour ended, Mike had decided to buy the house. The asking price was one point eight million. Mike would pay cash. He had a Mormon accountant he had grown up with and in whom he had complete trust. Mike let him worry about tax shelters and stuff like that. The accountant had Mike’s money steadily growing with safe investments. A lot of money makes a lot of money, the accountant had told him, and it was true. Mike paid him well to deal with that. He wanted to pay cash for the house, and didn’t want to think about tax shelters and interest and protection. To him, a house wasn’t an investment, it was his home.
He slowly turned around, taking a last look at the details. The more he saw, the better he liked it. It was absolutely loaded with every amenity possible and he could almost hear children running through it. He suddenly imagined Maria cooking in the kitchen and fantacized again about beating that truck driver to death.
He turned to Nora and smiled. “I’ll take it.”
Nora raised her eyebrows slightly. “Do you want to submit an offer?”
“Do you think they’ll come down on the price?”
“I don’t think so. It just went on the market and there are several interested parties. Even at this price, it’s a huge bargain.”
“OK,” he said, “tell me what you need and I’ll have a cashier’s check for the full amount first thing Monday morning.”
Tracy leaned over and whispered in Nora’s ear. “Filthy rich.”
That was three weeks ago. The deal was closed, the inspections made, the papers signed, the money transferred, and the house was his. Now he had to worry about furnishing it. He knew he didn’t have good taste so he