Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,28
nearly chuckled at her bitter tone, except she was out of the car in a blink.
I extracted myself from the car and hurried after her. I caught up at the front door and she shot me a disapproving look. I grimaced a fake apology and spun as the front doors were pulled open.
“Mr Hartly,” Katerina said, smiling at full wattage.
The man paled. The staff at Live Right needed to stop smiling.
“Might we come in to continue our talk from the other day?”
Did the wolf use similar words when trying to get inside the houses of the three pigs?
The man swallowed and glimpsed at the screen door sitting between him and Katerina. I could almost hear him processing that the screen was flimsy and wouldn’t keep her out.
He nodded and pushed the screen ajar. His watering blue eyes rested on me and his shoulders visibly eased.
Not just me then.
Though I wasn’t having as much trouble with Katerina. Which made about as much sense as being afraid of teeth.
The man shuffled through the wide hall, almost side-on. He wasn’t comfortable with my mentor at his back? Poor old man had to be eighty or more.
I stepped in front of Katerina so I was between Mr Hartly and her.
Monkeys had to stick together.
There were a lot of strange things going on in my life, but the simple fact that I just inserted myself between two people—because my gut identified one as a fucking predator—should have sent me off the deep end. Except the work hangover I’d woken with was still rampant. It was almost like I was in some kind of autopilot survival mode. Either that or I’d given up on my situation.
I had zero idea what was going on aside from my hypnotist mafia theory. And I wasn’t stupid enough to open Pandora’s box. I’d go with the flow until the end of the day, get my money, and get the hell away from them all.
Next time, I’d apply for the stupid paper run.
Mr Hartly led us to the lounge and eased onto the sole La-Z-Boy. Letting Katerina pass me, I caught her warning glare. This time I didn’t apologise. I connected far more with people of Mr Hartly’s age, being raised by my grandmother and her close-knit circle of friends.
Katerina walked to the sofa facing him and sat. I followed and perched at the opposite end. A low table sat between us and the older man, and I could tell he felt better for the buffer.
“Thank you for seeing us, Mr Hartly,” she said. “This is my trainee, Basi Tetley. She’s an up-and-coming star at Live Right Realty. Are you okay with her being here?”
“Y-Yes,” he wheezed, watery eyes begging me not to go.
I smiled, and his brow cleared a smidgen.
“As you know, Live Right is interested in purchasing your property.”
Hold the phone. We were buying off him? Not brokering a sale between him and a buyer?
Mr Hartly blinked several times. “Yes. I’m not sure I understand—”
Katerina dipped her head at his half question and interjected. “House prices in Green are forecasted to continue dropping over the next year. Lower house prices wouldn’t usually be an issue, except no one is rushing in to buy the bargains—and they haven’t for several years. In short, the house market is crashing, Mr Hartly, and Live Right wants to stop that happening.”
Was that a normal thing for real estate companies to do?
Mr Hartly was a step ahead of me. “So you’re buying a heap of houses so the properties don’t become worthless?”
“Correct,” she said. “And by doing so, we’re preventing thousands of owners from losing money on investments.”
“Then what?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
Phew. Go Mr Hartly.
“Then when the population does start buying again, we sell the houses back to the public for the price we paid,” she answered smoothly.
My doubt was echoed on the old man’s face. I wasn’t sure I swallowed any of that.
His bushy brows climbed. “I’m meant to believe a business of Live Right’s magnitude isn’t profiting from this at all? Why would any business take such a risk? You people must be forking out millions.”
Yeah, I was on his side. Her sales pitch was shit. Large businesses were after everything they could get, and having met the owner of Live Right, I felt extra safe agreeing with Mr Hartly. Kyros didn’t strike me as the charitable sort. Everything he did would have a benefit for him. My theory was based entirely off his shoes.