Family Bonds

Chapter 12, Episode 2

She said nothing, returning his stare with her own and noting how unlike Chet he was. And his arrogance. How could Chet be so kind, so caring, when this man seemed so hard, so used to getting his own way? She recalled what her neighbors had said about the man who had talked to them.

Richard Barton spoke again, his voice less angry, more business-cool. "So you're interested in selling your duplex." But the way he said it made her nerves vibrate again. Could he read her thoughts? Know how scared she was? She recalled what Bert had said to her before her first interview for a teaching position.

"Act as if you don't need it. Be strong. Insist on what you know the others get paid. Don't take less. And don't act grateful."

But she didn't feel strong, and she didn't like that someone from the development company—she thought it was Eddie from the way Mrs. O'Hara had described him—had contacted all her neighbors, asking what they would take for their homes. Jane looked away from Mr. Barton. The cushions of her chair placed her close to the floor, forcing her to look up at him, almost craning her neck to see his face.

She set her purse on the table and stood up. Then she reached for the paper with her name near the top margin. She perched on the arm of the overstuffed chair. Better. She scanned the numbers again, using the time to gather her thoughts. With her head slightly higher than Mr. Barton's, she was able to look down on him. The corners of her mouth curved upward. Standing taller than someone else during a negotiation offered a psychological advantage. She'd read that in one of her textbooks.

"I'm thinking about it," she replied, hoping she sounded confident. "What are you offering?"

"Numbers are all there," he replied, pointing to the paper she held.

"But they include several of my neighbors' homes. I'm not interested in their values, only mine."

"Didn't my representative tell you we're interested in buying yours only if we can get the others, too?"

"He said that. But they don't want to sell. They told him so. I know Mrs. Gonzalez did, and Mr. Jordan. If your man didn't share that information with you, I'm telling you now." No way was she going to mention what Mrs. O'Hara had said. The woman swore like a lumberjack. Jane felt better as she dared herself to look directly at Chet's father. She held her breath, pleased to see that he seemed taken aback by her words.

"What are you offering for my place, only mine? It's the nicest one on the block. You know that, or your employee does. He was there. He saw it."

Mr. Barton frowned. "You don't listen, girl. I'm only willing to buy your property if I can get the others, too."

Jane waited for a long minute then balled up the paper, and tossed it in the nearby wastebasket. "I guess it was a waste of my time to come here." She turned and walked toward the door, eager to get away from him, feeling his eyes on her back. Now what do I do?

"Just a minute." Richard Barton stood behind his desk. "You didn't even study the offer."

"Because your offer includes the entire street." She paused and looked over her shoulder at him. "Those numbers were far too low—for mine and the others." The longer she thought about the offer, the angrier she became. I've got nothing to lose. I'm just going to say it.

Turning around to face him, she said, "Mr. Barton, you don't like me, and I don't like you either."

His pale eyes seemed to darken, reminding her of a dangerous animal.

She took a deep breath. "Those numbers tell me you're trying to steal my property and the homes of my neighbors, who never wanted to sell in the first place. You insulted them—your employee did. I obviously made a mistake when I asked Chet if you were interested in buying my property. Your offer was pitiful—and my answer is no." She walked out the door without looking back.