“You think maybe the investor is offering less than what someone would pay for the houseandthe land?”
Paul shrugged. “Hard to say, but if he’s shrewd, and I’d wager that he is if he’s someone Ralph is working with, then he knows what it would cost to demolish the house, and he’s worked that into his offer, as though he’s giving her a great deal.”
Tessa’s eyes lit up. “When in actuality, she’s going to be making less than she could be because she’s going to lose a big chunk of what he’s offering her.Butif we could sell the house for even the exact amount he’s offering, Mrs. Steele wouldn’t lose any money and wouldn’t have to do any more work with the place, so she’d be making a better deal.”
Paul grinned at her. “Exactly.”
“But do you think someone would want to put in the time and money to reno this place?”
Paul nodded. “I have a feeling about this house.” He tapped his fist against his stomach. “My gut rarely steers me wrong. Fixing this house is going to take a lot of work, but it’ll be worth it. A rehabbed house like this one would be worth a king’s ransom, regardless of what Drake thinks.”
Tessa scrunched her nose at him and asked, “Who’s Drake?”
“L'artiste,” he answered, pointing at the illicitly sprayed graffiti marring the kitchen wall. “That’s his name there.”
Tessa’s cell phone rang, and she glanced at the caller’s name on the screen. “Excuse me. I need to get this.” She accepted the call. “Hey, Mr. Fleming.”
“Hey, Tessa, I have news. I know you’ve been hesitant about selling your condo, but it’s a unanimous vote by the other owners that the building should be sold to the developer. He’ll be here in a few days to begin the arrangements. I’ll be in touch.”
Tessa exhaled. What had she expected? “That’s it then.”
“Everyone has agreed. It’s a fair offer.”
“I understand. Thanks for calling.” Tessa ended the call and dropped the phone into her purse.
“That’s a big sigh,” Paul said.
“I’ve been having a lot of those lately.” When she realized Paul wanted an explanation for the sigh, she continued. “That was the president of my HOA. An out-of-towner wants to buy the ruined condo buildings where I was living—for a good price too. And every condo owner has agreed to sell.”
“You don’t want to?”
Tessa shrugged. “Knowing I have to sell the place feels like accepting that I don’t have a home, but it’s a smart choice and not really a choice anymore. Everyone else has agreed to sell their condos.”
“The decision has been made for you.” Paul pushed off the island. “It feels better to make our own choices, but sometimes outside forces give us a nudge in a new direction.” He walked across the broken glass from the mangled French doors and stepped through the opening into the backyard.
From the brick porch Paul surveyed the chaos. Tessa walked past him. Standing beside the narrow winding river, she looked for the koi, and before long, it pushed through the murk and popped its mouth above the water.
“There you are. I wish I could turn on the electricity and get your filter and pump running again.” She glanced at Paul. “This used to be full of koi. The previous owner named them after fictional characters.” The wind kicked up, tangling weeds around Tessa’s ankles, and it brought the sweet scent of blooming honeysuckle vines, reminding her of the jam her grandma used to make and slather on biscuits.
“You’ve got a good heart, Tessa,” Paul admitted. “Finding people homes, saving innocent fish, championing for historic landmarks. What else do you do on the side? Superhero at night?”
Tessa snorted a laugh. “Hardly.” But Paul’s words fluttered her stomach.
He walked toward the hydrangeas and batted away tall stalks of grass that brushed against his hips. “This is a mess of a different sort. Mom would love this, or at least she would love to put order back into this garden. She’ll have loads of advice on what to do with it if you ask her.” He turned and studied the rear of the house. Then he returned to the porch and crouched in front of one of the columns supporting the second-floor balcony. He banged the heel of his boot against the concrete footing at the bottom of the post. A hollow echo sounded. “The concrete supporting this column is crumbling. That balcony isn’t safe. New concrete footings will need to be poured. Not to mention the balcony floor is rotting.”
Paul’s knowledge surprised Tessa. She had expected him to be the nonconventional sort, a bohemian nomad who traveled light and never stopped anywhere for long—the sort who kept his mama up at night, worrying about his lack of stability. If Tessa had questions about Timbuktu, she might have asked him, but she certainly wouldn’t have thought he knew anything about crumbling concrete footings. But she didn’t know what he’d retained since earning his master’s degree. If he had so much knowledge of buildings and their structures, why had he chosen to travel the world and write about other places instead of using his degree? Her curiosity flared brighter.
Tessa pulled a work notepad from her purse and made a note about the balcony. “You realize that you’re talking about this house as though it’s going to be saved.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked. “Let’s start with saving Huck Finn.”
“Huck Finn?”
Paul pointed to the river and unwrapped the plastic from beneath his arm. “The koi. He’s traveled the river. We’ll take him home for now.”
Paul created a watertight plastic pocket for Huck Finn and caught the koi so easily that Tessa wondered if Paul hadn’t been stranded in the Alaskan Bush for months and been forced to catch his own salmon. She imagined the disaster of her trying not only to catch the fish but also to contain it without draining all the water from the thin plastic.
“Did you know that the fish we think of as koi are actually callednishikigoiin Japan? It means ‘brocaded carp.’ Koi are symbols for love and friendship in Japan. They’re hardy little swimmers, which is why this guy has probably lasted so long. He’s a fighter.”
