*on hold* Until Callan moved in next door, Presley was one hundred percent, completely fine with how her life was turning out.
She never regretted dropping out of college or wasting her days working in a diner for minimum wage. Boredom never plagued...
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I recognized the barely five-foot, pretty brunette, as she stacked a myriad of appetizers on top of a small plate. Once when I was showing the house to a couple, I'd seen her at the house next door mowing the lawn. Another time, she'd been picking weeds in the front flower bed while singing very loudly, off-key. And last week, I nearly hit her with my car when the tiny woman came out of nowhere, jogging across the street. Luckily, her hot pink running shorts caught my attention in time.
And now she was at my open house, eating food that I paid way too much for, and unfortunately for her, I was in a terrible mood.
#14 Caldwell Drive was one of the most difficult listings of my eight year career in real estate. I prided myself on selling quickly for my clients, but this place presented a huge set of challenges.
Inside and out, the place was outdated as hell. I begged the sellers to let me hire a stager to freshen the place up a bit, but they refused. My next suggestion - that we lower the selling price - wasn't taken well either. It was a classic case of unrealistic expectations. No one was going to pay half a million dollars for a house they'd have to sink half that into to make it worth living in.
And it hurt me because the architecture was actually really great - vaulted ceilings, natural wood beams, and a decent floor plan.
When I uploaded the listing to my website, I felt embarrassed by the photos, knowing that most buyers were visual. My experience told me they'd find it hard to see past the fact that it wasn't move-in ready.
The only saving grace was the crystal clear lake just steps from the back door. Chance Lake was a one hour drive to Brooks, the nearest city. There were a few amenities near the lake including a small convenience store, a diner, and a campground, making it the perfect destination for city folks fleeing the city for some relaxation and sun.
After the terrible open house, Tanner, my assistant, found me standing on the back deck, staring out at the lake. "Mr. Reed?"
"Yes?"
"Did you want me to lock up and take the leftovers back to the office?"
I turned to face the lanky twenty-two year old who I still wasn't completely convinced had what it took to be in the often cut throat industry of real estate. "You can take the leftovers, but I'll lock up."
"Okay."
I looked out over the glassy water again, but after a moment I felt Tanner's eyes still on me. "Is there something else?"
"It's just... well, today..."
"Tanner, just say it. Remember what I said? We don't mince words at Reed Realty."
He nodded. "Right. Well, is everything okay? I heard you speaking to someone, and it didn't seem like you to be such an.. uhh..."
