Pushing that worry aside for now, he paced the sidewalk in front of the hardware store, fifteen minutes early for his meeting with Mary Vaughn. He was already a nervous wreck when she drove up and parked right behind his car. A lot was riding on what he saw inside and the figures she was going to give him.
“I like a client who’s eager,” she told him with a smile as she found the right key in her purse and unlocked the door. “It usually means I can wrangle a better deal for the seller.”
Ronnie laughed at her candor. “I’m interested, not stupid,” he told her. “If I decide to buy—big if, by the way—I’ll be as fair to Dora Jean and Rusty as I can be, given the limitations of my funds.”
“Sounds reasonable,” she said. “You need me to go through here and give you a spiel, or would you rather look it over on your own?”
“On my own, if you don’t mind. Then we can go over any questions I have.”
She nodded. “I’ll wait outside, then. I have calls I need to make, anyway. The street’s the only place to get a decent cell phone signal around here. My calls were cut off three times last night while I was at Sullivan’s. I should have known better than to try to take them in the first place.”
“Make your calls. I’ll be fine,” Ronnie said, eager to get inside.
The place was musty from being closed up for even just a couple of months. Ronnie walked up and down the aisles, a thousand memories crowding in as he thought of all the times he’d come inside and pestered Rusty for advice about tools and the various projects he was doing around his parents’ house. The forty-year-old house had had its charms, but there’d always been something breaking or requiring paint or patching. His dad had been clueless and his mom impatient. Ronnie had enjoyed the work, and doing the odd jobs himself had the added bonus of keeping his mom off his dad’s case. He’d earned a fair amount of pocket money from his grateful father, who’d insisted they move to a maintenance-free condo in Columbia when they retired.
Today the shelves were no longer as fully stocked as they’d once been. And there was so much dust! Still, the remaining inventory was good quality and would give him a head start. He imagined Rusty would put him in touch with suppliers. Maybe he’d even want to come in and work from time to time if his health permitted. Ronnie liked the idea of having the old guy around. It’d give the place some continuity.
The large back room of the building held a limited supply of lumber, insulation and other building supplies, but Ronnie knew he’d need a warehouse for the kind of operation he was envisioning. Still, this place could be the anchor, with plenty of room for, literally, the nuts and bolts of the business.
He walked behind the counter and fingered the old, intricately molded brass cash register. He’d probably need to replace it with something more modern and electronic, but there was a charm to this one that made him wish it could be otherwise.
Looking outside, he could see the town square through the grime-covered window. He imagined that glass sparkling in the sun, a clever display of some sort on the built-in shelf below, or glittering with lights at Christmas. It felt so right that if Mary Vaughn had come back in at that precise second, he would have agreed to any terms she laid out for him.
Which was why it was a good thing she was still outside, her cell phone plastered to her ear. He went out to join her and she immediately ended her call. When she emerged from her car, he noticed that she took her time, making sure he got a good view of her shapely legs. He couldn’t help wondering if that was part of her sales strategy or if the relationship she was in was as rocky as he’d suspected the night before. Mary Vaughn on the prowl was a complication he didn’t need.
“Well?” she asked, studying his face.
“Walking through there brings back a lot of memories,” he said. “You have the specs and asking price with you?”
She nodded at once and pulled them from her briefcase. “I also have a contract with me if you want to make an offer.”
Ronnie was so tempted it took everything in him not to go for it, but he shook his head. “I need to look over these papers,” he said. “And there’re people I want to discuss this with.”
“Don’t wait too long,” she said, but they both knew there wouldn’t be a lot of competition for the property, not until someone took the lead in bringing life back to downtown.
“I’ll be in touch,” Ronnie promised. “How’s Rusty doing now? I’d like to speak to him if he’s well enough for company.”
Mary Vaughn’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “You wouldn’t go behind my back and try to make a deal directly with him, would you?”
Ronnie returned her gaze evenly. “I think you know me better than that,” he said, annoyed that she’d even felt the need to ask.
She flinched at his tone. “Sorry. It just makes me nervous when buyers want to set up little tête-à-têtes with sellers.”
“Understandable,” he said. “But I imagine there are things Rusty could tell me about this place that you can’t. Besides, I’d just like to talk old times with him.”
Mary Vaughn visibly relaxed. “He’s probably chomping at the bit for some company by now. Dora Jean’s had him on a very short leash.”
Ronnie nodded. “I’ll drop by, then. You and I will talk again.”
“Any idea when?”
He needed to pay that visit to Rusty, then talk again with Butch. Considering the amount of time he needed to devote to Annie, as well, it would be at least several days. “End of the week,” he suggested. “Maybe not till
