The Parking Space (5 page)

I stepped toward her, smiling, but gritting my teeth as I dropped my voice, hoping he couldn’t hear my toned down volume. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see if you needed any support. I couldn’t reach you on your phone.”

“I accidently left it at home.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Dr. Stark cleared his throat, interrupting our friendly argument. “Well, I think I’ve covered everything I need to. I’ll send Betty in to give you the final details as well as go over what we will do for Charlie tonight. If you would please excuse me, I should see to some patients.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you.” Lisa brushed her hand against her neck.

He gave her a slight nod then stuck out his hand, reaching for mine to shake. “It was very nice to meet you, Miss Wright.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“I’ll keep an eye on Charlie throughout the night and should he have any changes I will call you immediately.”

“Thank you for your help.”

“I’ll also make sure the receptionist knows to send you home with some diet cat food.” He made his way toward the door, but paused with his hand on the knob. “Unless we run into any problems tonight, you can pick him up any time after one o’clock tomorrow. Good night, Miss Wright and Miss Carter.”

“Um, Dr. Stark?” Lisa stepped forward.

My heart thumped.

Don’t you dare do it. Don’t you dare do it.

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night? Ben and I have reservations at Harris Steakhouse and the other couple we were dining with canceled tonight.” Her eyes shifted between the handsome piece of a man and me. “We asked Helen, but we’re still short one person.”

Pinkness flushed through my cheeks.

He smiled for a moment before his lips curled down into a frown. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’ll have to stand by what I told you this morning. I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”

My heart sank with disappointment as I stared at the floor and tucked my hair behind both of my ears.

“It’s fine, Dr. Stark,” I piped in. “I don’t know what Lisa,” I shot her a glare, “told you, but I’m not dating right now, either. I just don’t have time for all that since I’m busy with my career.”

He gave a subtle nod. “Good-night, ladies.”

“Good-night.”

As he shut the door behind him, I smacked Lisa on the back of the head.

“Did you seriously have to do that?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Couldn’t hurt to ask. Did I not tell you he was gorgeous?”

“Yes, gorgeous . . . and yes, totally not interested in me at all. Oh my goodness that was so embarrassing.”

“I still think you should bring Charlie here from now on.”

“Why on earth would I do that?”

“Hey, you never know. Just because he’s not interested in a relationship now doesn’t mean he won’t be in a month or . . .”

“You are crazy.”

“Maybe I am, then again, maybe I’m not.” She winked.

TWO DAYS AFTER the accident with Charlie, my car’s wheels spun up the paved driveway to the Victorian style home. I stopped in front of the two-car garage next to a row of lush bushes that lined the bricked path. Flowers popped up through the green in red and yellow.

Really? Reece wants to see this house?

Unlike most of the remodeled two story homes in this neighborhood, the white painted siding and yellow painted front porch peeked through a couple of mature palm-like trees planted in the tiny, grassy front yard. Every facet of this house possessed everything Reece specifically told me she didn’t want.

This should be interesting.

As I opened my car door and exited the driver seat, the familiar convertible Corvette drove up and parked beside me. The bright red glimmered in the afternoon sunlight and darkened the red in Reece’s shoulder length hair as she turned the motor off.

“We’re done talking about this.” She snapped at the young man sitting in the passenger seat.

“Oh and just like that you’re done? Even if I’m not? You never listen to anyone else’s opinions.”

She pushed her oversized sunglasses up onto the top of her head as he rolled his eyes and drew a long puff on his cigarette. His long hair, greasy from a lack of washing, and aviator style glasses proved the exact opposite of the type of clean shaven high fashion advertisement guy I imagined when I thought of the men she dated.

She slammed the driver door and brushed her hair away from both of her shoulders as she strode toward me. Her nose crinkled in disgust.

“Ugh. Men. I swear. Sometimes I think we would just all be better off without them.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Jones.” I greeted her, ignoring her scoffed words toward a man sitting mere feet from her and listening to her every word.

He laid his head back against the headrest of his seat, his jet-black curls blended with the leather seats of Reece’s car.

“You weren’t saying that in bed this morning,” he yelled.

“Oh yeah, just announce to the world we had sex this morning, idiot.” Still facing me, she crossed her arms and clicked her tongue as she exhaled a deep breath. “You’re so lucky that you are single.”

I smiled at her, but didn’t utter a response.

“Maybe I should try being single. Is it hard? I mean, don’t you get lonely? Who do you go out to movies with or out to dinner?”

“Well—”

“No, I could never eat alone. That would just be too embarrassing.” She paused and shook her head. “No, no. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be single. Not even for like a day. I mean, what do you do about sex?”

My cheeks flushed and heat rushed up the back of my neck.

Please don’t make me answer that. Please, please, please.

“I suppose he’s okay,” she continued, much to my relief. “At least, he’s nothing like my career-driven-hater-of-everything-I-loved ex-boyfriend. Did you know he wouldn’t even see any of my movies? He said none of them were anything that interested him . . . blah, blah, blah. Who does that? Does he not know who I am?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s right. He didn’t and that’s why I kicked him to the curb.” She laughed and glanced over her shoulder at the man in her car. “I supposed while Galvin is a total boy toy, he does look good on my arm. I guess I’ll keep him.” She leaned into me and whispered. “Until I find someone better in the sack, that is.”

“So! Do you want to see the house?” I prayed she would take the bait on my sudden change of subject.

“Yes, yes, fine.” She waved her hands then hooked her purse on her arm as she glanced around the shaded front yard. “Huh. I thought the house would be bigger. I mean, this is Doris Shepherd’s house, right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“
The
Doris Shepherd, the movie star?”

I nodded. “Yes. The house is just a little over eleven hundred square feet—”

“That’s all?”

And there it is. Yet another reason she’s not going to like this house.

Out of all the homes I’d shown Reece over the last several months, not one of them had been less than three thousand square feet, as per her wish list, a wish list that if I diverged from in any way could cause disastrous events to unfold.

I knew this.

However, of course, I couldn’t tell her this.

“The lot is a smidge over sixty-five hundred square feet, which is larger for this neighborhood. The back yard is fully fenced with a seven foot privacy fence and is fully landscaped with extras—”

“What do you mean extras?”

“There’s a six person Jacuzzi, a swimming pool—which isn’t common in the city—and a beautiful covered patio with a built in kitchen area, perfect for entertaining.”

“Okay. And what about the neighbors. Are they nosy? Am I going to have to watch out for them selling my pictures to the tabloids?”

“It’s an older neighborhood and all your neighbors are older couples who I doubt have any interest in snooping on you.” I snorted a laugh, instantly regretting it as I caught the glare in her eyes. I cleared my throat. “Miss Shepherd’s estate lawyer made it very clear to me that whoever buys the home would feel safe and be left alone.”

“What about my parties?”

Ah yes, the parties.

“I have to be able to have my parties. They are legendary, you know?”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that to me before. I’m sure if you got to know everyone and asked them in advance, they would all be fine with your parties.”

“I have to ask them?”

“Well, you probably should at least mention it to them so the sound and commotion aren’t a big shock.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go look inside. If I like it, I can deal with the neighbors at a later date.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming, James?”

“I’ll catch the next one.”

“James!” She stomped her foot.

Growling aloud, he shoved the car door open, slamming it shut as he strolled toward us. With every inch of his hundred-plus pounds of muscle poured into his jeans and t-shirt, his clothes appeared two sizes too small for him. Cigarette smoke billowed around his head and a gold chain hung around his neck.

“Um, I’m sorry, but you can’t smoke in the house.”

“What do you mean he can’t?” Reece snapped.

What part of the word ‘can’t’ confused her?

“There is no smoking in any of the homes when they are being shown. It’s a standard rule we have to follow—especially when they are listing the home as smoke-free.”

Without taking his eyes off me, he slowly pulled the cigarette from his lips and dropped it on the ground. He grunted his annoyance as he strode off without extinguishing the smoking embers.

What a great guy.

“So how many bedrooms and bathrooms are there?” Reece strolled ahead of me up the stairs to the second floor front door; her stiletto heels clicked against the wood boards of the porch. How she walked on the six inches of thin plastic I’ll never know.

“Two bedrooms and one bathroom.”

“Huh, well, that’s not very many at all. Between my room and my office, I won’t even have a guest room.”

“Again, it’s only eleven hundred and twenty-five square feet.” I reached around the clunk of a man and unlocked the lock. “I also have to warn you that the house hasn’t been remodeled . . . ever . . . so the appliances and fixtures aren’t what you’ve seen before in some of the other homes.”

Reece rested her hand on her hip and tapped her foot on the concrete front step. “I’m starting to wonder why you brought me here to look at it, then.”

I didn’t want to show you this house, but you demanded to see this property, remember?

I bit my tongue as I glanced around the tiny front porch.

I can’t argue with her. I can’t argue with her.

“Well,” she sighed. “I guess since we are here, we might as well take a look. Surely, Miss Shepherd had excellent taste. The house can’t be as bad as you are hinting that it is.”

As I opened the door, Reece shoved past me, hand in hand with James, her fingers laced through his. Her perfume tickled my nose. The familiar scent smelled as sweet as a candy store and it gave me an instant headache.

“What on earth?” Reece’s voice echoed through the hardwood foyer.

My grip tightened on the doorknob as I closed my eyes. Every ounce of dread that had twisted in my gut since the moment I drove up to the house unfolded right before my eyes.

I can’t argue with her. I can’t argue with her.

I crossed the threshold, unprepared for the overwhelming feeling I’d traveled back in time. Stepping into this house felt like stepping back into 1950. A time warp that while I loved, I could almost hear the rest of Reece’s disgusted words before she uttered them.

“This cannot be the house owned by Doris Shepherd. Are you sure we are at the right address?” Reece clutched one of the yellow and green flowered drapes hanging over the oversized living room window with a death grip. The thick material shifted from the movement against the sheer curtains behind them.

James chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest and walked around the retro couch and chairs I’d seen in every fifties TV show growing up. Low to the ground, their pink and cream tweed fabric accented the cherry rug under the coffee table.

“Wow,” he laughed, “You should totally get this place, Reece. It fits you.”

“Shut up, James.” She faced me. “Did you know it looked like this?”

“I saw a few pictures, but they were of different areas of the house and the lighting was different.”

“I’m shocked that you didn’t tell me.”

I tried to tell you when you called. You wouldn’t listen to me.

“Well, with some new paint, new furniture and drapes, and perhaps new carpet or hardwood floors, you could turn this house into exactly what you wanted.”

“Turn it into? No, I don’t do remodels.”

James spun around a few times, laughing to himself as he walked in the opposite direction down the long hallway to the two bedrooms and one bathroom.

She watched him, but instead of following, turned and marched off through the living room, passing the stone fireplace and built in wall to ceiling bookcases on her way into the kitchen. Her thin heels caught on the white shag carpet underneath the coffee table, nearly tripping her. A part of me wished the floor covering had succeeded in its quest.

Through the rounded archway that she disappeared under, I glimpsed the white cabinets, mint green tile countertops, and peach colored backsplash. I inhaled a deep breath, bracing for Reece’s reaction to the retro kitchen with out-of-date appliances.

Instead, of saying anything, however, Reece simply strode out of the kitchen, shaking her head. “No, just, no.”

“Babe, you’ve got to see this,” James called out from down the hallway. “The bathroom is pink.”

She hesitated for a second and cast a glance to the ceiling, groaning under her breath. “How pink?”

“Like the color of that medicine I drink when my stomach hurts. Seriously, you should really buy this house. You could sure make a statement with this place.”

I caught my reflection in the elegantly framed mirror along one of the living room walls. The painted gold glinted a little in the sunlight peeking through the small decorative window in the front door.

While Reece and James’s laughter echoed from the bathroom, I made my way into the kitchen. My own sandals caught on the carpet as the long fibers tangled in the buckles. Annoying as it was, the thick pad under the shag cushioned my steps until I reached the white and black checkered tile floor of the built in breakfast nook with bench seats.

I set my notebook down on the countertop and leaned against the cabinets. One of the vintage handles caught on my pant leg, and as I adjusted my weight, the door popped open. The scent of cedar wafted through the air.

The entire house mimicked my grandparent’s old place. The one I’d grown up visiting throughout my youth. From the rustic old stove to the fixtures throughout each room that Miss Shepherd probably purchased in 1950 when she designed and built the house, I couldn’t help but smile a little at the memories brought back to my mind.

Reece’s voice billowed through the walls, drawing me away from my happiness. Her disapproval over every inch of space scowled through her words, and each remark seemed to grow with more disdain for the four walls of the home.

Another wasted afternoon looking through a house I knew she wouldn’t like. Another wasted chance to finally find her a home so we could part ways both happy. Another waste in gas, more miles put on my car, and an hour of my life I couldn’t get back.

“Did you want to at least look at the backyard?” I asked as they finally emerged from the bedrooms.

“No. Not even my dream backyard would save this place. I can’t believe you showed this house to me.”

Her snarky voice chewed on my last nerve. It figures she would hold me responsible for today. Nothing was ever her fault. Why would this situation be any different?

“Honestly, Miss Wright, you’ve wasted my whole afternoon.” Before I could utter a retort, she wrapped her hand around James’s arm and tugged on him. “Let’s get out of here before I have nightmares about this place. Bye, Miss Wright. Call me when you have something worthy to show me.”