“Idon’t want to talk about your ‘mistake,’ Adrian. Go!” She pointed at thestreet.
Paigelocked the door, then rested her back against it with a long, slow exhale. Sheslid to the floor. Her eyes stung, and her clogged throat ached. “You ruinedeverything, you fucking bastard,” she whispered. All her bravado, all her rage,dissolved in a maelstrom of tears.
A halfhour later, she peeked out the window. Adrian and his stuff were gone. Herphone lit up with a text. Beckett.
DidAdrian stop by?
R upsychic?
In caseu forgot, I’m a guy. R u ok?
Um,yes. Told him to take his stuff and leave.
Thatwas hard.
Ieven swore.
Badwords?
Shechuckled through her tears. Really bad words.
Hedeserves worse. U ok?
Gotan open bottle of wine. I’ll be fine.
Want2 share?
Not tonight.
Understand.Lemme know if u need ice cream, oil change, haircut.
Puzzled,she re-read the message. Did u really mean haircut?
Idid. Anything.
Night,Beck.
Night.Try 2 sleep.
As shesettled under her covers that night, her mind meandered to an old question shenow examined through a different facet of the same prism. What would lifelook like if I’d fallen for Beckett all those years ago?
CHAPTER 11
I Can Help
Paige pulled up to the title office and parked besideBeckett’s truck. He stepped out and strode to her door, opening it. “Need anyhelp?”
“No,I’m good, thanks. Are you ready?”
“Yep.Got my ID and your lockbox.”
Thelatter she took from him and laid on the passenger seat beside her. “And adeposit slip for that fat check, right?” She grinned.
“Yeah.”He closed her door behind her. “Although I’m still not sure why I’m gettingback a hundred and twenty something dollars when I expected to bring a checkfor nearly a hundred grand.”
“Don’tworry. We’ll go over it all at the closing table.”
“So,what’s the word from the weaselly bastard?”
“Youshouldn’t say things like that,” she admonished, regretting for not the firsttime having taken him into her confidence. He was, she was learning, fiercelyloyal and altogether eager to disparage others for sins he’d committed himself.No glass houses for Beckett Miller.
“Okay.What’s the word from Adrian?”
“Hetold my lawyer he’s not doing anything until he and I sit down and talk. Hesuggested a marriage counselor.”
Beckett’seyes narrowed. “And? Did you agree?”
“Fornow, I don’t want to think about it. I only want to get your closing wrappedup.”
Theytook their places in a conference room. The closer, seated at the head of thetable, slid a piece of paper under Beckett’s nose. He slipped on his glassesand looked at it, frowning. Paige held her breath.
Heturned his head to the closer. “This is wrong.”
Shesmiled her “the-customer-is-always-right” smile and darted her eyes to Paige. Beckettnow swiveled his head to her, frustration showing in his eyes and in the set ofhis mouth.
“Andie,what the hell is this?”
“It’syour closing statement. It shows all the credits and debits so you can see howthey arrived at your bottom line.” Paige pointed at a figure on the paper. Shehanded him a pen and smiled sweetly.
Heleaned way back in his chair and chuffed at her. “I know what aclosing statement is. What I don’t understand are the numbers on this one. Ididn’t agree to this.”
Thecloser fidgeted. “Shall I step out for a minute?”
“No,”Paige nearly barked.
Beckettdidn’t budge, his rigid chin a stubborn reflection of his body. Paige leaned alittle farther in. “Beckett, the buyers have already signed. Their wire’s beenreceived. Their moving trucks are pulling up as we speak. Their whole family’slooking forward to sleeping in their new home tonight. What’s on yoursettlement sheet has nothing to do with them or the contract you executed withthem. It’s only between you and me. If you want to stay in contract complianceand move on, you need to sign.” She stabbed at his signature line. “Rightthere.”
Alittle muscle in his jaw jumped, and he glared at her. His mouth was a thin,hard gash, as though it had been drawn in with pencil, and his cheeks seemed toflare dark pink. Without taking his eyes from her, he picked up the pen. Thenhe scrawled his autograph and shoved the paper and pen at her. She signed herline carefully, bending her head and averting her face from his glacial stare.
Fifteenminutes later, they left the building, Beckett’s face a study in fury. Paigescurried to her truck, but he was on her heels.
“Youbamboozled me,” he growled.
“Bamboozled?What’s that?”
“Don’tpull that bullshit on me, Ms. Anderson. We agreed on six percent, against mywishes, not two fucking percent. You slashed your own commission so I wouldn’thave to bring a fucking check to closing.” He flung out an arm.
“Shh.Everyone will hear you, and they’ll all expect me to slash mycommissions.”
Hepulled a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Andie. That’s not what I wanted. Youviolated our agreement.”
“Yes, Iknow. You didn’t want to screw me.” She shrugged. “Beckett, I couldn’t think ofanother closing gift for you. If you’re unhappy, file a complaint with the RealEstate Commission, although I doubt they’ll hear the case. Clients usuallydon’t take their brokers to task for lowering their fees and leaving more moneyin their pockets.”
Heerupted in a humorless laugh. It didn’t erase his fierce face.
“Youlittle sh—stinker. You think you’re clever, don’t you?”
Shetried not to preen. “And I don’t have to wear glasses.”
Hethrew his hands up in the air. “Jesus H. Fucking Christ!”
“Wow.For a guy who didn’t have to bring a check to closing, I’d think you’d be moreappreciative. You’re acting like I high-sticked you or something.” She glancedat his full truck bed. “Is that gym equipment?”
Heglanced over his shoulder and nodded. Then he sighed. “You’re right. I shouldbe more appreciative. And I am. I just … God, I hate taking fucking handouts. Ihate being broke!”
“You’renot broke.” She smiled brightly. “You have a hundred and twenty-six bucks inyour pocket. And this wasn’t a handout. I made a solid chunk.”
Henarrowed his eyes. “That money’s going to stay in my pocket until I come backto Denver and take you to dinner.”
Herheart took off unexpectedly, surprising her. “When do you suppose that’ll be?”
Heshook his head forlornly. “Can’t say. My agent finally heard from the KHL, andthey said no thanks. I’ve got no place to go. It feels really weird. I shouldbe working my ass off
