Fifteen
The real-estate agents arrived exactly on time, in a sleek black Mercedes they parked in the circular driveway in front of the house. Their website said they specialized in upscale vacation properties for affluent clients. Their client reviews were good, and the number of houses they’d sold was respectable. All that was encouraging. But the reason Jill had selected them was because of the three firms she’d emailed, they were the only ones willing to meet with her right away. She hoped that would be lucky.
Jill greeted them at the front door, eager to get to work.
“You must be Jill DiFiore.” The man wore a conservative dark suit, a crisp white shirt, and a tasteful paisley tie. As he extended his hand, Jill noticed the gold watch on his wrist, heavy and circled with tiny diamonds. Hopefully bought with commissions. “I’m Seth Ackerman.”
“Yes, thank you for coming.” Jill shook his hand. His grip was warm and reassuring, a good sign.
Seth turned to the woman beside him, who was wearing a simple black dress and blazer. She had a briefcase slung over her shoulder and a tablet in her hand, ready to get started. “This is my associate, Sheri Kessler.”
“Hello, Sheri.” Jill smiled. “Please come in.”
“Great house.” Seth’s gaze swept the dramatic front entry, the two-story window above the wide front doors, the blue-slate flooring, and the original Picone on the opposite wall.
“Thanks. Let me show you the rest.” Jill led them through the foyer into the main part of the house. She’d opened the drapes on the far wall to showcase the view. Everything inside the house—the bleached hardwood floors, taupe area rugs, and low beige furnishings—was designed to fade into the background so all the focus would be the sweeping view of the ocean. And it worked—today especially, the view was undeniably magnificent. Nothing but sandy beach, dancing ocean, the endless horizon.
Seth stopped to take it all in. Even Sheri stopped tapping on her tablet long enough to look. It was a good decision, opening all the drapes to show that view. That view would sell this house. Hopefully soon.
“Wow,” Seth said finally. “I did not expect that.” His voice faded as he absorbed it, and Jill let him. The more he liked it, the harder he’d work to sell it. Finally, after clearing his throat, he said, “Your email said you wanted to sell quickly?”
“I do.”
“I just might have a client in mind.” Seth brushed his palm across his chin as he considered. “They’re looking for something further north but might consider coming down this way, if only for this view.”
“It’s pretty spectacular,” Sheri agreed.
“Do you mind if we start upstairs?” Seth asked as Sheri set down her briefcase. “A quick look around before we talk specifics.”
“Of course. Go on up.” Jill swept her hand through the air, happy that they hadn’t asked her to join them. She’d been upstairs exactly twice since her arrival, both times to stage the bedrooms, and both times had been painful. Jill would not force herself to go up there again. “The door leading to the rooftop deck is at the end of the short hallway.”
Forty-five minutes later, Seth and Sheri descended the stairs, Seth dictating notes and observations to Sheri, who scribbled on the tablet as she trailed behind.
Seth whistled. “This is some house, upstairs and down. And the rooftop deck is perfect for private parties. At least, that’s what I told Marc anyway.”
Jill startled, convinced she’d misheard. “I’m sorry, did you say, ‘that’s what I told Marc’?”
“Yes,” Seth confirmed. “Your husband contacted me a couple of times to ask my opinion about selling this house. I’m surprised he didn’t mention it.”
“So am I.”
“I offered to sell it for him, years ago, but he wanted to handle it in-house.”
Jill assumed “in-house” meant Brittney.
“Well then, what’s your opinion on why this house hasn’t sold?” Jill asked.
Seth shrugged. “Could be anything from not finding the right buyer to financing not lining up. Marc didn’t tell me why he was having trouble, just that he was, so I dropped it.”
Sheri interrupted. “I’ve finished entering notes. Only thing left is the kitchen and garage.”
“Coming.” Seth headed into the kitchen as Sheri settled into a chair close by.
“Ready?” he asked Sheri.
Sheri nodded, her stylus poised above the screen.
“Professional grade appliances. Ten burners, gas.” His fingers grazed the stove as he walked past. He gestured to the tile behind it. “Hand-painted tile backsplash. Pot filler attachment on the wall. Warming oven below.”
“You forgot the induction microwave underneath the island. It’s a built-in.” Sheri pointed to an appliance Jill had never used or seen used.
“Good catch.” Seth paused to take several pictures with his cell phone. “Two dishwashers, a commercial refrigerator deep enough to handle party platters. This is all really good.” He lowered his phone and turned to Jill. “All the appliances stay?”
“Yes,” Jill answered. She couldn’t imagine what she’d do with any of them.
“Okay. We can get model numbers later.”
Seth opened a door and flicked on the wall switch. “Walk-in pantry with room for storage.”
“There’s another storage room down that hallway,” Jill offered. “Caterers use it to store platters, dishes, and party food.”
“Excellent. Clients love extra storage.” Seth glanced at Sheri. “Make a note of that please.”
His voice rose as he continued down the hallway. He tapped on the door to the garage. “Attached garage. We saw it on the way in. Two-car?” He paused for confirmation.
“Three,” Jill corrected. “One spot is tandem. And there’s overhead storage across all three.”
“Even better.” Seth joined them and took a seat. “We should position this house as more than just a summer home…” His voice trailed off as he thought. “Are you planning to sell it furnished?”
“Yes.” A designer in New York had selected everything in this house from websites. The contents were lovely, and expensive, but Jill had no use for or attachment to
