The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,41
ago, and these houses all seem to be basically sound. They have good bones. Mostly they just need some repairs here and there, some updating and a lot of paint. Let’s walk through your properties so you can tell me what you want.”
They went through POAC headquarters first, discussing the changes she wanted in each room, especially the kitchen and bathrooms. Greg examined every nook and cranny and made copious notes. They did the same for the house next door.
“I think you made a good buy here,” Greg said. “With your proximity to downtown, and with the other houses on the street being renovated, your property will be worth double or triple what you paid for it when it’s fixed up. I’ll get back to you with estimates in a day or two.”
“Great, Greg. If we agree on price, when can you start?”
“Right away. My crew is finishing a big job now. Say, I notice the house down at the end of the street is for sale by the owner, and looks like it could use some work as well. Know anything about it?”
“I do. It recently came on the market. A friend of ours bought the house and moved in, planning to renovate a little at a time, but he’s been transferred to Pittsburgh. You interested?”
“I might be…if the price was right.” He winked. “It might be a good investment—and I could give you a better deal if my crew is working on three houses right here together.”
“I’ll call you with Oscar’s number.”
“Don’t bother. I can get it off the sign.”
“Mention my name,” Cass said.
“Count on it.”
After Greg left, she wandered around the yard, with its scraggly bushes and weedy lawn, and felt real envy for Sunny’s well-kept lawn and garden. Cass could almost imagine a chamois-colored cottage with black shutters, white trim and a red door. The porch and steps would be updated and big pots of geraniums or marigolds would flank the doorway. The lush buffalo grass lawn would set off the flagstone walkway and native plants would complement the lines of the house.
She smiled and sighed. Her very own place.
What color would she paint the house next door? Maybe a pale yellow or a sage-green. Or dove gray with maroon-and-white trim. It was fun thinking about it, but she didn’t want to get too carried away. She had some money left over from the killing she’d made when she sold her Manhattan condo, and she’d saved quite a bit since she’d been home, but she’d have to be careful with costs. She didn’t have an endless supply of money to squander, and she didn’t want to overdo for the neighborhood.
Still smiling, she headed off to the paint and flooring stores for samples. She’d also need to scout around for appliances and get an idea of what she wanted—and what her budget could stand. Someone had told her there was a fantastic warehouse on Burnet Road with great deals on close-out items and stuff with tiny scratches or dents not even noticeable. And she had to think about cabinet styles and hardware and light fixtures and a thousand other details.
Her days off were going to be plenty busy. Maybe it was a good thing Griff would be in New York for the next little while.
Or not.
WHEN CASS STOPPED BY Chili Witches midafternoon, Sunny eyed her bulging tote. “What’s that?”
“Samples.”
“Are you in training for a door-to-door job?”
Cass laughed. “Nope. I’m finally starting on my house. I met with Greg Gonzales this morning for estimates. These are paint samples and floor samples and brochures and catalogs I have to pore over. Do you know how hard it is to choose between daffodil and sunbeam?”
“Colors, I presume? Want a glass of tea?”
“I’d be forever in your debt, sis. Thanks.”
Sunny poured two glasses and led Cass to a table.
Cass took a sip of tea. “Ahhh. Perfect. Where are Mom and Aunt Min?”
“I think they were going to a movie with some friends. I told them not to come in tonight. I can manage.”
“Want me to go to the bank?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind. Do you have a date with Griff tonight?”
“No, he’s back in New York.”
Sunny looked stunned. “For good?”
“Not according to him. He has a few days business there. Meetings, he said. He plans to be back in Austin by the weekend.”
“Don’t forget our meeting with Carrie Sunday morning,” Sunny said.
“I haven’t forgotten. Wonder what she wants?”
“Beats me.”
“Guess who came in for a late lunch yesterday?” Cass asked.
“I already know.