inside and automatically glanced around the reception room to see if any potential clients were waiting there. From half the marriages Iâve seen, sheâs a damn lucky woman.
But how will she react when she starts hearing the stories about the house?
Georgette tried to push the thought away. Born with a natural ability to sell, she had progressed rapidly from being a secretary and part-time real estate agent, to founding her own company. Her reception room was a matter of special pride to her. Robin Carpenter, her secretary-receptionist, was positioned at an antique mahogany desk to the right of the entrance. On the left, a brightly upholstered sectional couch and chairs were grouped around a coffee table.
There, while clients sipped coffee or soft drinks or a glass of wine in the early evening, Georgetteor Henry would run tapes showing available properties. The tapes provided meticulous details of every aspect of the interior, the exterior, and the surrounding neighborhood.
âThose tapes take a lot of time to do properly,â Georgette was fond of explaining to clients, âbut they save you a lot of time, and by finding your likes and dislikes, we can get a very good idea of what youâre really looking for.â
Make them want it before they set foot in itâthat was Georgetteâs game plan. It had worked for nearly twenty years, but in the last five it had gotten tougher, as more and more high-powered agencies had opened in the area, their young and vigorous brokers panting for every listing.
Robin was the only person in the reception area. âHow did the closing go?â she asked Georgette.
âSmoothly, thank God. Is Henry back?â
âNo, I guess heâs still drinking champagne with the Nolans. I still canât believe it. A gorgeous guy buys a gorgeous house for his wife for her thirty-fourth birthday. Thatâs exactly my age. Sheâs so lucky. Did you ever find out if Alex Nolan has a brother?â Robin sighed. âBut on the other hand, there canât be two men like that,â she added.
âLetâs all hope that after she gets over the surprise, and has heard the story of that house, Celia Nolan still considers herself lucky,â Georgette snapped nervously. âOtherwise, we might have a real problem on our hands.â
Robin knew exactly what she meant. Small,slender, and very pretty, with a heart-shaped face and a penchant for frilly clothes, the initial impression she gave was that of the air-headed blonde. And so Georgette had believed when she applied for the job a year ago. Five minutes of conversation, however, had led her not only to reversing that opinion but to hiring Robin on the spot and upping the salary she had intended to pay. Now, after a year, Robin was about to get her own real estate license, and Georgette welcomed the prospect of having her working as an agent. Henry simply wasnât pulling his weight anymore.
âYou did try to warn the husband about the history of the house. I can back you up on that, Georgette.â
âThatâs something,â Georgette said, as she headed down the hall to her private office at the rear of the building. But then she turned abruptly and faced the younger woman. âI tried to speak to Alex Nolan about the background of the house one time only, Robin,â she said emphatically. âAnd that was when I was alone in the car with him on our way to see the Murray house on Moselle Road. You couldnât have heard me discussing it with him.â
âIâm sure I heard you bring it up one of the times Alex Nolan was in here,â Robin insisted.
âI mentioned it to him once in the car. I never said anything about it to him here. Robin, youâre not doing me or, in the long run, yourself any favors by lying to a client,â Georgette snapped. âKeep that in mind, please.â
The outside door opened. They both turned as Henry Paley came into the