A Modern Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,1
hoped they decided quickly. Nat would be grumpy if she missed yoga class again.
A cab pulled up, and Lauren put on her best realtor smile. “Kate, nice to see you again. You’re going to love this loft—gorgeous views and a stunning kitchen. Will Mitch be joining us?”
“I think so, but let’s head up. Mitch may be able to tour a place at a sprint, but I like a little time to look around.” Kate Greenley was beautiful, newly married, and on a meteoric rise to the top of Chicago’s design world. None of which explained her sudden pallor as the elevator started to rise.
Lauren laid a hand on her client’s arm and sensed a touch of nausea. “Kate, are you feeling all right?”
Kate nodded and dug a granola bar out of her purse. “It used to be that I could skip lunch without a problem. Lately, it comes back to bite me. So, tell me about the condo. Does it have the office space we wanted? How is the light?”
Reaching into her bag for the property’s full-color glossies, Lauren started her spiel. She also kept a surreptitious eye on Kate—February in Chicago, the flu was always going around, and she didn’t want it.
They stepped out of the elevator into a striking foyer. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the gray, windblown expanse of the lake in winter. Not all clients loved windblown, however. “You can imagine the stunning views in summer, with blue skies and sailboats out on the water,” Lauren said.
Kate laughed. “No wonder you’re so good at your job, if you can look out at that and see Lake Michigan in summer. I like the lake in all its moods, even the less fashionable ones. It’s one of the reasons a lake view was on our list.”
“Ah, yes, the list.” Lauren unlocked the door. “As I’ve said before, Mitch’s spreadsheet is pretty daunting, but I think you’ll agree this place hits a lot of high points. Let’s go in and look around.”
She watched her client carefully and gave a quiet inner cheer. She could see the designer in Kate captivated by the spaciousness and modern design of the condo.
Knowing when to let a place sell itself, Lauren moved aside and let Kate walk forward to the sixteen-foot-high bank of windows overlooking the city and the lake. Good. One-half of the client was moving the right direction. Now she just needed Mitch and his list.
A discreet buzz told her she was about to get her wish. She opened the door to let in Mitch Greenley. He looked every inch the hip, young accountant, from the fantastic suit to the mighty laptop under his arm. She coveted the girl version of his suit.
“Good to see you again, Lauren.” Mitch entered and reached for her hand. He looked over at Kate, and Lauren could feel the newlywed happiness ooze out of him. The man might look like a dispassionate numbers geek, but he was deeply in love with his new wife. “Sorry I’m late, love. Tax season’s coming, and the clients are getting demanding.”
“Dealing with high-strung personalities is one of your best talents, sweetie.” Kate kissed him in welcome. “Why do you think I married you?”
“And here I thought it was for my spreadsheets,” Mitch said, tapping the laptop he’d laid on the granite breakfast bar.
Lauren choked back her laughter. “Mitch, I think this place will do well against your checklist, but let’s take a look around and let you gather some first impressions.”
Kate grinned. “Spreadsheets are his first impression. Come see this view, love—it really is marvelous. Even on a dreary day like this, the light in here is magnificent.”
Mitch took his wife’s hand and together they walked through the main living space. Lauren watched their now-familiar routine. Even holding her husband’s hand, Kate took the room in as a kind of dance, with sweeping gazes and impetuous changes of direction. Mitch methodically turned to each of the four corners, as if he was cataloguing against the list tacked to his mental corkboard.
Clearly the bedrock foundations of their souls were made of entirely different materials. Lauren would bet her next commission that they had as little common ground in deciding what to eat for dinner as they did in choosing their first married home. Somehow, they made it work.
Lauren joined Kate in the middle of the room as Mitch walked over to his computer. “Well, Mitch, how are we doing?”
“It hits some of our top priorities, for sure.” Mitch ran down the checklist