Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) Read Free Page A

need of a complete overhaul.
    “What do you think?”
    I jump and clutch at my chest. This woman scared the hell out of me. My honest impression is this house is run down and needs a gutting. I can’t tell her that, though. “It’s definitely dripping with … character.” And God only knows what else.  
    “Come on, lady. Kate, right?”
    I nod, fearful of what she’s about to say.  
    “It looks like a natural disaster occurred here. My parents lived here and my father continued to after my mother died. He never took care of it. A boy a couple doors down cut the grass and shoveled the driveway for him, but nothing else. He quarantined himself in this house and drunk himself to death. Her death killed him. And now I have this house to deal with.” She twirls a few times pointing at each corner of the room. “I don’t want this. I’ve got a nice place about an hour from here and the last thing I want is this as my responsibility.”
    “Well, if we keep the price low we should sell pretty fast. Homes around this neighborhood typically boast sales around the three hundred thousand mark. We may be able to draw in offers around one-seventy-five and close in a few short weeks.”
    The look on her face is like I just told her I ran over her dog. How can my sales pitch be this horrifying? The place needs work. A major overhaul. No one in their right mind is going to come in here and pay full asking price.
    “Absolutely not. The mortgage is paid off. I can afford to wait for an offer. I won’t start any less than $220,000.”
    I disguise my laugh as a cough. “Excuse me.” I’m never going to sell this house at that price. “Anything over two is quite risky and will take an extremely long time to move.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “But —“
    “My dad left me nothing but this piece of crap house. I’m getting every penny I can. Not to mention, the higher the offer, the more you make.”
    This is true, but I need money now, not a year from now. I’m at a loss of how to market this house at the price she’s requesting. “There isn’t a lot of furniture here. Would you be willing to hire a painter and home stager so we can really make this place pop?”
    Now her eyes are locked on mine as though a third one is placed in the center of my face. Sellers don’t want to hear these things, but you have to spend money to make money. I can make every effort to bring in a sale for her, but unless she meets me halfway and agrees to spice the place up — or at the very least hire professional cleaners — there’s not much I can do for her.
    “I want my dad’s house gone. I’m not putting in any extra cash. None .”
    This part of my job is so difficult. I want to avoid insulting her, but she must understand my point of view. She’s hiring me to sell a run-down home. In order to make this a success, the house has to appeal to buyers. At least somewhat. “Ms. Foley, I realize you want to make as much money as you can, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get the price you want.” Buyers or sellers — they all think they know everything. They’re blinded by dollar signs. I can envision this home a real gem with new cabinets, countertops, and flooring. And paint. Paint fixes almost everything.
    She crosses her arms. “Then maybe you’re not the one for this job. Thank you for your time.”
    I drop my head as I sigh. Great. Now I have to go back to my boss and tell her I screwed this up. I brush past Janice and think about what she said. ‘My dad left me nothing but this piece of crap house.’ She should be lucky her dad left her anything. How ungrateful. Yet, this sale is crucial. In my time at Double West Realty, I can count my sales on one hand. I need to do this.
    I turn and face Janice, who is standing with her hands still on her hips. They must be permanently attached there. “I’m sorry. If you want me to represent you, I will try my damnedest to sell this house for you.”
    She eyes me up and down