Hadley
Monday mornings were usually my jam. It was easier to wake up early and go to work on a Monday morning when you worked for yourself—that was a fact. Add some sunshine in the mix and morning temperatures in the high sixties and you got yourself a fabulous Monday morning in Portland.
Amy and Tim were at the office by the time I arrived, and they did their best to separate when they saw me come in, but it didn’t escape my attention.
“You’re looking bright and chipper this morning,” Amy said as I approached our little corner of the office.
“Am I?”
“Indeed,” she replied, her eyes moving up and down my frame. “Looks like you had a good weekend.”
“Hmmm. Indeed,” I replied with equal evasion. “What did you two do?” I made sure my tone was innocent and light, and my aim hit my target right on.
Without hesitation Amy answered, “Not much. Hung around the house.” It was a full second before she realized what she’d said, then her eyes darted to Tim, who was simply shaking his head and laughing.
“Hadley got you, babe. Hook, line, and sinker.”
“Well, shit,” Amy replied, plopping down into her chair hard enough for her hair to fluff up around her shoulders.
“You two are crappy secret lover affair havers. I’ve had you pegged for weeks.”
“Really? We thought you were too involved in your own drama to pick up on ours.” Tim said the words as he walked behind Amy, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a good rub. This wasn’t necessarily unusual, but it definitely held a deeper meaning now.
“You’ve been a lovely distraction.” I pushed myself closer to them, grateful in that moment for my rolling chair. “Tell me all the sordid details.”
Tim rolled his eyes, but Amy smiled. That was fine; I never expected Tim to be the one to share the info anyway. Before Amy could divulge, though, the phone on my desk beeped.
“Hadley, you have a call holding,” said the voice from my phone.
“Thank you,” I called out to Ria. “Hold that thought,” I told Amy and picked up the phone.
“Staged to Sell, this is Hadley.”
“Hi, this is Aiden Daniels with Daniels Homes. I was hoping to get you for a meeting soon.”
“A meeting?” I asked as I typed Daniels Homes into my Google search bar. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t figure out where I’d heard the business name before.
“Yes, I’m looking to bring in a stager for my luxury homes. Have somewhat of an in-house service for all my new-to-market developments.”
“Homes as in plural?”
“Right. I’m hoping to find someone I can form a business partnership with, someone who can stage all my homes, contracted of course, who will share the profits.”
My eyes flitted over the webpage for his company and my mouth dropped. Aiden Daniels was not joking when he said luxury. The homes on his webpage were magnificent.
“I am open for such meetings,” I managed to say with somewhat of a professional air.
“Great. I’d love for you to come out to my newest build. It’s kind of far out, though.”
“That’s not a problem. Just give me an address and a time. I’ll be there.”
“Will noon today work? I know it’s short notice, but I’m packed the rest of the week.”
“Noon’s good.”
Mr. Daniels gave me the address and I assured him I’d see him soon. When I mapped the address he gave me, I instantly panicked. It was an entire hour’s drive away. An Uber to that part of Washington would cost a fortune, not to mention a double fortune once I got back.
I did the first thing that came to mind and dialed my phone.
“Hey,” I said into the speaker. “I need a favor.”
An hour later Justin dropped the keys to his monster SUV in my hands.
“Are you sure you can handle a rig this big?”
I didn’t even try to rein in my eyes at his question.
“Don’t worry, big burly man, even a tiny little lady can drive big trucks.”
He stared at me for a moment, then asked evenly, “No, really. Can you drive a truck this big?”
I shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Well, be safe. Where are you going, anyway?”
“Somewhere in Bumfuck, Washington.”
He raised one eyebrow and it was stupid-sexy. “Where?”
“I’m not sure. It’s along some river somewhere and all the addresses are on routes. Rustic. The MAX definitely doesn’t go there.”
He chuckled and stepped forward, closing the distance between us. “Text me the address and info on who you’re meeting, yeah? And let me know when you get there and when you’re leaving.”
His protective nature sent a jolt of arousal through me, which my feminist core fought against, so I only melted a little, but not on the outside. “I’ll do it, but only because I don’t want my would-be killer to go free, not because I need a man to worry about me.”
“Tough.” He kissed me without warning. The best kind of kiss, maybe. “Text me,” he said after pulling away, also without warning. Much sooner than I wanted him to.
“Fine,” I breathed, pretending to be annoyed.
Then the jerk had the audacity to slap my ass.
I flipped him off and hauled myself into the driver seat of his giant SUV.
I managed to make it to Bumfuck, Washington, and wasn’t even late. Thank goodness I built in some time to get lost because I did, in fact, get lost. Google doesn’t know everything. Especially once you leave civilization behind. You’re pretty much on your own once you lose cell phone service. I managed to find the address, though. I was not, however, prepared for what I saw.
I was driving down a narrow gravel lane, praying that no other vehicle was trying to leave because there was only room for me and that huge-ass SUV I was driving. The road was lined with trees, so thick I couldn’t really see much through them. Every once in a while another road connected and I caught a glimpse of a house far away, but they were so far apart calling them neighbors was laughable.
When the road opened up, so did my mouth.
Sitting in front of me was, without a doubt, the most beautiful house I’d ever seen. And not only was it physically beautiful, construction wise, it was situated in the most beautiful scenery I had ever encountered. It was a house I couldn’t even imagine, something beyond expectation. And I hadn’t even seen the inside yet.
I pulled up to the attached multi-car garage and parked. One of the doors started rising and out walked a man with a friendly smile. I hopped down, closed the door behind me, and tried to look as professional as possible while still fawning over the property.
“Ms. Hart?”
“Hi, that’s me.”
“Aiden Daniels, nice to meet you.” He shook my hand and I was instantly at ease. He was not a serial killer, I was sure of it.
“Likewise,” I said with a smile and let my eyes wander to the house again. “I don’t want to sound like, well, like a goofball, but this house is amazing,” I gushed before I could stop myself.
He dropped my hand and turned around, looking back at his house. “It is pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
“Definitely.”
“Sometimes you get so lost in the process, you forget that wow factor people get when they first see your creations. Me, I see the things I would change.”
“If you change one thing about that house I’ll be personally offended.”
“Well, good. I don’t have time to change anything anyway. Or the budget.”
Yikes, I didn’t want to even try to imagine what it would cost to build a house like that. Let alone buy it. It was massive. And gorgeous. And perfect.
“Would you like to see the inside?”
“Does a whore sweat in church?” I blurted. Then froze. Then I turned an unimaginable deep shade of red. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I can’t believe I just said that.”
“It’s fine,” he said through hearty laughter. “No need to censor yourself around me. Come on.” He headed toward the massive front doors. They must have been at least ten feet tall. Solid, dark wood. It was silly how much I wanted to run my hands over them. In truth, I wanted to run my hands over the whole house. I’d never felt that way about real estate before.
“This is unbelievable,” I said as we entered what could only be described as a great room. My eyes couldn’t take it in fast enough. I was thirsty to see it all. My brain was taking measurements, taking in the natural light, to color of the paint, the countertops, the wood, the carpet. My mind was running wild with ideas.
He walked me through the house, all the while talking up the selling points, obviously taking pride in it.
“What’s your role here? Architect? Contractor? Owner?”
“All of the above,” he replied with just a twinge of pride.
“Wow. Okay,” I said, continuing on my tour. I’d never worked on a house like that before, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. I wasn’t sure what he needed from me as the house could easily sell itself, but I wanted the job, no matter what it was. I wanted to get my hands on that house.
He led me through the entire house but saved the best part for last.
Off the kitchen was a set of French doors that led to a patio that spanned the entire backside of the house. What I hadn’t noticed when I pulled up was that the house was on riverfront property.
Sure as shit there was a picturesque river flowing not twenty feet from the patio.
“Mr. Daniels, this is absolutely breathtaking.”
“Please, call me Aiden.”
“Aiden, you have to be so proud of this property.”
“I definitely am.”
“It’s just missing one thing.”
His eyes went wide in panic, as though I was going to tell him something drastic or traumatic.
“This porch needs a hammock.”
Relief washed over him and a laugh escaped him.
“That’s an excellent idea.”
“I have lots of ideas. This house is absolutely inspiring. So, tell me. Why exactly did you ask me to meet you here?”
He leaned back against the railing of the porch and it was the first time I noticed his body. He no longer had a professional demeanor. He relaxed and suddenly it wasn’t a potential client I was talking to, but a man. He crossed his legs at the ankles and folded his arms across his chest. He narrowed his eyes at me at the same time a smile spread across his face.
“I like how you don’t fool around. A straight shooter. That’s good.”
“Time is money. Isn’t that the saying?”
“That’s very true. I’m sure you’re a busy woman, so I’ll get to the point.”
He took in a deep breath and I found myself holding mine. Something deep within told me this was going to be something big. I could tell this was a turning point for me. An offer that would change the path of my career forever.
“This is my fifth completion this year, but the first that wasn’t custom built. For the last five years I’ve done strictly custom houses, built to order. Now, though, I’m branching out and managing more properties with higher price tags. I want to make a name for myself and be the premium luxury custom home provider. I’m a one-stop dream house shop.”
“I’ll say,” I quipped, taking another look at the serene surroundings.
“This house is going to sell for no less than one-point-five.”
“Million?” I choked.
He nodded and a smug grin crossed his face. “Million.” He uncrossed his arms and moved to brace his hands against the railing at his sides. “I do a lot with my time, but if I want this to go through the roof, I need someone to manage the houses after they’re built. I need someone to make them look even better than this,” he said, motioning to the house behind me, “and sell them for as much as possible.”
“That’s my specialty,” I practically cooed.
“But it’s not just this house.”
“It’s not?”
He shook his head, still smiling.
“I’ll finish two more before the year is done and next year I’m projected to finish twelve.”
Holy. Shit.
Twelve houses at over one-point-five million dollars was a staggering amount of money. Why have I never heard of this man before? How is he flying under the radar with houses like this? Is it possible that I’m literally here at the bottom floor?
“I need someone, on contract, to help me with all of them. I’m willing to pay one percent.”
“One percent,” I parroted.
“That’s right.”
“Of one-point-five million dollars?”
“One percent of all the closing prices on all the houses.”
I blinked at him. And then I blinked some more.
“Are you crazy?” I finally asked.
“Pardon?” He laughed.
“Are you crazy? You sound crazy.”
“How so?”
“It sounds like you just offered me a potential six-figure contract.”
“Potential being the keyword, yes.”
“We just met.”
“Remember when I said I liked that you were a straight shooter? Well, I’m a straight shooter myself. I did some research, not a ton, but I didn’t need to. I found your website, liked your work, like that you’re local, and the last twenty minutes has been your interview. Obviously if things don’t work out we’ll part ways amicably, but there’s no reason we can’t do business together.”
I was having a hard time keeping up with him.
“You’re going to build magnificent, beautiful, luxury houses, and you’re going to pay me to stage them? One percent of the selling cost?”
“Sounds about right.”
“That is crazy.”
“Listen, I know up front it may come across as a little extreme and gratuitous.”
“You think?”
“But you have to keep in mind what the job entails. I build my houses on remote property. We’re a good forty-five minutes from civilization. This won’t be your typical one-stop stage job. This is going to take serious planning and strategic logistical thinking. Plus, the better you make the place look, the more money we’re both going to make. I think that’s good incentive.”
“I would agree.”
“I’ve seen your portfolio and I think you’ve got what it takes.”
“I want to dress this house.”
“We’ve got final inspections in two weeks and then I’m throwing a party to drum up some interest. Can you get this house done in two weeks?”
Two weeks was not a lot of time for a job that big and I mentally ran through my schedule to calculate whether I could make it happen, but my mouth opened on its own. “I can do two weeks.”
Just as I said the words he reached for his pocket and pulled out his phone. Once it was out I could hear it vibrating. He touched the screen and I watched as his brow furrowed. Suddenly he looked frustrated and irritated.
“Shit.” He said the word loud enough so I could hear it, but quiet enough that I wasn’t sure I was supposed to. “I’ve got to go. There’s a problem at one of the other properties.”
“Oh, all right,” I said immediately. Everything was still up in the air, though. Nothing was cemented and it made me feel off-kilter.
“I’ll call you with more details. Will that be all right?” he asked as he led me back through the house and out to Justin’s SUV.
“That’s totally fine. Here,” I said as I pulled out my wallet and handed him a business card. “This has my cell number on it so you can reach me there at any time. I’m not always in the office.”
He took the card from me and glanced down at it. He was silent for a few seconds and for some reason a strange tension built between us.
“Great,” he finally said. “I’ll be in touch.” He opened my door for me and I tried to climb in that godforsaken SUV without making a fool of myself in front of him.
He was smiling when he shut the door, and I didn’t waste any time turning around and heading back out the way I came, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever had happened at that house was unfinished. And I didn’t like the feeling one bit.