Boom - Sabrina Stark Page 0,37

thinking out loud. "If the house is going to be featured on the show, I'm thinking that maybe the network owns it. Or your tool company. Or an investor."

"Yeah," he said. "And the investor's me."

I bit my lip. This wasn't what I wanted to hear. "You personally?"

"What, you wanna see the deed?"

It was the same thing he'd offered the other night. I didn't need the deed. What I needed was the truth. "I just want to know."

He crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge like they always did. "Why?"

"Well…" Again, I hesitated. "Maybe I'm wondering if I'll have the chance to buy it. You know, when it's done."

"Forget it," he laughed.

But I wasn't laughing. "Why?"

"Because you can't afford it."

My cheeks warmed at the bluntness of his statement, even more so because it was true. "Well, maybe I can't afford it now," I admitted. "But after the bonus—"

"It'll still be out of your range."

Damn it. Probably he was right. The house was huge, historic, and located directly on the beach. Plus, it was being fixed up as part of a famous TV show. The publicity wouldn’t make it any cheaper.

Still, I refused to let it go. "But I'd have a down payment."

"Doesn't matter," he said. "The owner's not selling."

"You mean you?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

Just then, I heard the muffled sounds of car doors slamming in the driveway. This was quickly followed by the sounds of voices – male and female.

Brody cursed under his breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Do me a favor," he said. "Go stall 'em, will ya?"

"Why?"

"Just do it, alright?" Without waiting for my reply, he began coiling up the next hose. When I made no move, he said, "Or if you want, I'll stall them. And you hide this stuff."

Hide it? Seriously? "But wait. Why would anyone need to—"

"Just stall them," he said. "And I'll tell you later."

"You promise?"

"I'll tell you one thing," he said. "I won't tell you jack if they get in here before I'm done."

This was all the encouragement I needed. Without further protest, I turned and scrambled toward the stairway, giving Brody one final glance before my feet carried me out of sight. The last I saw of him, he had two hoses coiled over his shoulder and was reaching for the bucket of rags.

By the time I reached the front door, it was just swinging inward. I stopped it with my foot and practically leapt into the narrow opening.

On the front porch, the new arrivals drew back, as if startled by my sudden appearance. The group consisted of Waverly, along with Roy and two other guys who looked to be somewhere in their mid-thirties. Like Roy, the guys were dressed casually in jeans and work shirts. As for Waverly, she wore a sleek navy dress with matching high heels.

I poked my head further out of the doorway and plastered on a giant smile. "Oh, hi. So, how's it going?"

It was Waverly who answered, "Shitty. Now get out of my way."

Well that was pleasant.

Still, I put on my concerned face. "Oh, no. Is something wrong?"

It was Roy who answered. "Nothing too bad. They messed up her coffee order."

Waverly whirled to face him. "Not too bad? Seriously?" Through gritted teeth, she warned him, "You don’t know what I’m like without coffee."

Looking surprisingly unterrified, Roy replied, "Actually, I'm pretty sure I do." Behind him, the other two guys nodded in solemn agreement.

I chimed in, "Wow, that sounds really awful." Hoping to keep the conversation going, I asked, "So, um, who messed it up?"

Waverly's eyes narrowed as she turned to face me. "Are you mocking me?" she said.

"Me? No." Shockingly, this was actually true, even if I did think her distress was totally mock-worthy. But then, a moment later, I heard myself say, "So, who did this atrocity?"

Okay, so maybe I was mocking her now, but how could I help it?

Waverly sighed. "The yokel who works there, that's who. Now where's Brody?"

I tried not to snicker. "Really? There was a yokel?" I lowered my voice. "Tell me, did you report him to the authorities?"

"I tried," she huffed. "Turns out he owns the place."

"Wow," I said. "How terrible."

"Yeah. Tell me about it." As she spoke, she took a single step forward, as if expecting me to throw open the door and step aside. And when I didn't, she stopped short and eyed me with open hostility. "You're not moving."

I gave a few stupid blinks. "I'm not? Are you sure?"

Her jaw clenched. "I can see you."

"That's funny," I said.