Selling Murder House

Chapter 7 (Continued)

After the detective left, I tried to continue writing the listing description, but found that my mind was too weighted down with thoughts of the criminal investigation that had taken place there. Suddenly, everything I'd written sounded darkly ironic, like a long-winded joke written in poor taste. "Safe neighborhood" was a stretch, "Victorian" was a reach, and if the house "boasted" anything, it was a serious bad feeling. It certainly wasn't the ideal state of mind for convincing house-hunters to buy the house.

So when I saw Stassi's car pull up to the curb, it was the only time I'd ever been happy to see her. I strode to the foyer to greet them.

"...So looking forward to meeting you," Stassi was saying as they came through the door. "He's willing to compensate extra for exclusivity, so that may be something to consider."

Paul wore the same windswept expression he'd had when they first left.

"Oh, Mary!" Stassi said, cheerfully. "Paul and I were just talking about the podcast I told you about!"

"Sounds like it's settled!" I said, looking to Paul for any indication that he was being held at gunpoint or something, but he didn't meet my eye.

Paul excused himself, leaving me alone with Stassi. We walked to the kitchen, where she'd left her laptop.

"He's kind of a weird guy, right?" Stassi said in a whisper.

"Oh? I guess. I haven't spent much time with him," I said. I felt strangely defensive of him.

Stassi scrunched up her face. "I mean, I showed him several beautiful listings, right? It was like he was asleep. He didn't seem to take a liking to... literally anything," she said.

I nodded. That sounded about right, if my assumption about Paul's finances was correct. Still, he should be expecting a large payout from the sale, which would put him in pretty good standing to buy a new home.

"Maybe he's not looking for luxury," I suggested. "He seems like a pretty laid-back sort of guy."

Stassi scoffed.

"Oh believe me, I know his type. He'll be a tough nut to crack, but maybe when we get some offers on the table he'll be more excited. Speaking of, how are things going on your end?"

I filled her in, sugar-coating a bit on the status of the listing.

"And what are we doing in terms of staging? I assume you'll be taking on the interior design, considering..." she said.

I nodded. "The floors are original hardwood, they could use polishing, but otherwise they're a great feature," I said. "I say we leave the wainscoting, paint over the pink with a cool neutral, a light grey or a beige?"

Stassi nodded.

"Get it figured out with Paul and then hire painters ASAP," she said. "Let's get this house on the market. We don't know what to expect in terms of PR, but if we can get it looking fresh, we shouldn't have any trouble."

"Got it," I said, with as much confidence as I could muster.

She gathered up her things.

"I have a date," she said deviously. "Tell Paul I said ta-ta."

When she left, I let my shoulders relax and slumped against the counter. My entire back was sore from tension, like I'd been squeezing my muscles, bracing for something for hours on end. My first real day as an agent was nearly complete, and I could see the path ahead of me, all the unknowns from the past had become clear. It was a relief to see the finish line in sight, but terrifying to see all the obstacles that were still ahead. I let my elbows fall to the cold marble countertop, then buried my heavy head in my hands.

A noise from above startled me upright. Footsteps, I realized. Paul was making his way down the stairs. He rounded the corner and found me in the kitchen.

"See any good houses today?" I asked.

"Honestly?" he said. "I have no idea what to look for in a house. I've only ever lived in apartments. I mean, after I moved away from home, of course."

I nodded.

"I can understand that," I said. "Take your time, find what you like. Don't settle for anything less than that."

It probably wasn't in my best interest as an agent to say as much, and I could practically feel Leo Larson spasming in pain as I said it, but I meant it. I could tell Paul had some demons to work through, and whatever those were, I hoped that whatever money he made from the sale of the house led to peace and happiness for him.

"Hey, I hope Stassi isn't forcing you to do anything you don't want to do," I said, after a pause. "With the whole podcast thing. I didn't know she was going to bring that up today. I'm sorry if she came on strong."

Paul laughed and said, "No, no, it was a bit of a surprise, but honestly? I sort of need the money."

I noticed his ears had turned red again. I nodded, not wanting to press the subject.

"So Paul, we're really wanting to get started on getting the house market-ready," I said. "If money is going to be an issue for you, I think it's best if we establish that now so we don't get in over our heads."

Paul laughed, a short, dry exhale.

"Yeah, I'll be honest. I know I inherited this house, and it must seem like my family is rich, which, they are for the most part. I kind of live on the outskirts of that," he explained. "When Henry died, I got the house, but there was nothing else."

"They left you a house and no way to pay for it, to maintain it?" I asked.

Paul shrugged. I wondered if I'd overstepped.

"If you're really planning to paint this entire place on your own, let me help you," I said.

He started to protest.

"Think of it this way. You want this house sold, I want this house sold. The sooner we can make it happen, the better, right?"

"Right..." he said. "Okay."

I nodded.

"Great, it's settled then," I said.