The Ivy House (A Queensbay Novel) Read Free Page A

room.
    Phoebe texted back, “Not interested…send away…”
    Fast and furious came the text message back: “Too late, he’s already on his way…”
    Phoebe gritted her teeth in frustration. “Fine, I will take care of him.”
    She put the phone away just as it started ringing. It was Sandy, but Phoebe decided to ignore her. She wasn’t interested in hearing the woman try to save her own commission.
    “Excuse me, sir.” Phoebe found him in the back room, the one she had already imagined would be perfect as the studio study, looking out the full wall of windows.
    “Quite a view,” he said with an easy gesture, seemingly unembarrassed at having been caught roaming around the house.
    “I’m sorry, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. The house is not for sale,” Phoebe said, drawing herself up to her full height.
    The man looked over at her, a lazy smile on his face. “Is that so? It’s a prime piece of property. I’ve had my eye on it for a while. The old owner never would give me the time of day, though, no matter what I offered.”
    “Well, guess this isn’t your lucky day either because I have no intention of selling,” Phoebe said. It wasn’t exactly true. Last night, she’d had every intention of glancing the place over, getting a price from the real estate agent, and heading back to the city. But now…she’d already imagined sipping wine on the terrace.
    She heard the ping, but before she could reach for her own phone, she saw the man take his out of a pocket. The conversation was brief, but Phoebe was almost certain Sandy, the real estate agent, was on the other end of it.
    He hung up, looked at Phoebe, a sharp, appraising look.
    “Well, I guess I was mistaken. But you know what they say: the harder you work, the luckier you get.”
    Phoebe stiffened. The real estate agent’s meaning had been clear. Waterfront property in Queensbay was a highly sought-after commodity. There would be plenty of people who would be willing to take it off her hands, even in this economy, so there was no reason she needed to be grateful to the guy for being the first.
    She drew herself up. “Ivy House is not for sale. I have no intention of being taken advantage of just because I’m not from around here.”
    He only smiled again at her huffy tone, unperturbed by it.
    “Trust me, I would never try to take advantage of a lady. I will be happy to offer a fair price for a fair bit of property.”
    Phoebe looked into his eyes. So he was only interested in the property, not the house. She guessed he couldn’t see the house for what it was—a diamond in the rough. Did he not know? Or was he playing it cool?
    He pulled something from his pocket, a white envelope, and held it out to her.
    She looked at it, puzzled.
    “I know I’m supposed to go through the real estate agent, but sometimes I find it easier to just deal with the other party directly.”
    “What is that?” Phoebe said, trying to keep her voice level.
    “A very generous and more than fair offer for the property.” He said, still holding it out towards her. She crossed her arms, feeling childish, but refusing to give in even an inch.
    “I told you that Ivy House isn’t for sale.”
    He cocked his head to one side and put the envelope back in his pocket, a wise move Phoebe thought.
    “You keep calling this place Ivy House. I haven’t heard it being called that in years.”
    “It’s what my grandmother called it,” Phoebe said. Savannah could only be persuaded to talk about Ivy House and Leland after a glass or two of wine and even then, it was a tricky subject.
    His mouth dropped open and a look that Phoebe didn’t understand crossed his face.

Chapter 4
    “You’re Savannah’s granddaughter,” he said, as if everything came together.
    “Who did you think I was?” Phoebe asked with real curiosity. In Los Angeles, the recognition was almost immediate mostly because people there knew their celebrities, even the older ones.
    “Well, I