Jet-lagged and Touristy
I slept for hours without so much as getting under the covers. My bones and muscles ached from the long journey and my brain was far from synchronized with having gone forward in time by more than half a day. By the time I was somewhat conscious, I could barely understand what year I was in, let alone part of the day. I stumbled awkwardly into the spa bathroom, locked the door behind me, and soaked in luxurious bubbles for an hour before emerging fresh and wide-eyed. Adam was resting on the bed, hands folded behind his head as he watched an Australian comedic skit on TV.
He smiled at the sight of me in a towel.
“Adam, what day is it? And time?” The curtains were closed and I couldn’t possibly guess.
He laughed. “You’ve been out for about ten hours, babe. I went and picked up some clothes and you didn’t even move. How you feeling? It’s a great time to head out for lunch, just gone past noon.” He patted the spot next to him on the bed.
“No, I’d better not get back on that thing. I feel tingly and weird. I think I could pass for out another day if you let me. I’m going to get dressed. Is there somewhere close where we can eat?” I selected an outfit from the largest of my luggage pieces while Adam considered his options.
“Well,” he said, watching me pull on a red mini-dress, “we can always eat at the hotel. But you want to get out and about, don’t you?” I nodded. “In which case, there’s a great burger joint nearby. Here, they like to put beets on their burgers – they call it ‘beetroot.’ What do you think?”
“I think I should have known you’d suggest hamburgers. But I’m starving and they sound perfect.” I smoothed down the cotton of my dress and stepped into a pair of nude wedges. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
A quick walk from our hotel, we found both the Sydney Harbour and the burger place in full view of the water. The sun was out and I couldn’t see more than one or two pure, white puffy clouds in the sky. The sunshine glistened off the surface of the sea, and a little breeze blew the fragrance of salt and crustaceans into our path. Thrilled and upbeat after my impromptu half-day nap, I smiled and grabbed Adam’s hand as we strolled along the red-brick pavement and followed the scent of grilled beef.
We ordered steak burgers and fries (actually, ‘hot chips!’) and cold drinks, and ate at a small table outside overlooking the crowded sailboats. The marina was full of shiny, beautiful boats with their sails tied in carefully. I wondered excitedly if we might be able to rent one out sometime. The burger and fries went down in record time, giving me time to relax and digest while Adam slowly finished up his final bites.
Admiring the view, I reached over and squeezed his hands when he’d finished his meal. “Thanks for picking me up at the airport, Adam, and letting me hijack you for a few nights in the city. I know you have plenty of work to do, so I appreciate it.”
“Hey, Mel. You don’t have to thank me. And this was a good idea; getting to know the city a bit before getting down to work. Right?” I nodded happily. “And believe me, I’m looking forward to the alone time! Just maybe let’s be a bit more careful around my brother and his wife, hey?” He winked at me, grinning.
Remembering the bellhop, I blushed and hid my face. “Oh my god! Yes, you’re right.” Laughing, I pursed my lips at him. “So why don’t we go for a walk while you tell me about the business? I’d like to take a tour around the harbor a little bit.”
He agreed, so after paying the bill we hugged the marina and took in all the ambient sounds of the city. Pigeons and sea gulls squawked incessantly, diving in and stealing crumbs and sometimes whole sandwiches from diners around the harbor. Tourists and natives were abundant along the water’s edge, making the atmosphere very cosmopolitan and friendly. I noticed plenty of Italian and east Asian restaurants, and made note for later on in the day. Mostly, however, our walk, which ultimately led to the Sydney Harbour and its iconic bridge.
Watching ant-sized people traipse up and down the tower on the east side of the bridge, as well as back and forth along the high catwalk, Adam and I sat on a low wall to listen to a busker playing the violin. A small crowd gathered, as did several others along the paved path to take in music and comedy.
“So, about David,” Adam began, throwing an arm casually around my waist.
“Right,” I nodded, keeping my eyes on the musician.
“He’s a couple of years older than I am. He moved out here in his early twenties and met Julie here. They got married a few years ago and have a couple of young kids. She’s…I don’t know. I’m not sure we’re getting along as well as we should. Dave doesn’t notice, or at least he pretends not to.”
Oh, good. A complicated other woman in the picture. I hoped fervently that Julie wouldn’t be a big part of the business.
“One of Dave’s first jobs out here was an assistant in a real estate office, and eventually he took all his licensing courses and set up his own place. At the beginning, the industry was doing great, but in the last couple of years it’s gone downhill and taken his savings with it. Julie doesn’t work, and mortgage payments – even in Parramatta, versus the inner city – aren’t cheap.”
I nodded. “So what have you got planned, exactly? Have you ever worked with your brother before?”
A crooked smile appeared on his face as he remembered. “Not really. I mean, we both sort of worked for our dad when we were kids, but that was hardly worth mentioning. We definitely didn’t do a great job of anything. But,” he paused, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, “we used to spend all our time together, and that can’t hurt us now. As for a plan? He isn’t sure about it, and Julie is dead set against it.” He sighed.
“Well?”
Squeezing my back with his large hand, Adam turned his head and focused his dazzling blue eyes on mine. As the strains of the violin faded away and the rest of the small crowd applauded, we were lost in our own little world. “Dave’s been focusing on the high-end, luxury market. Problem is, those are expensive setups. Can you imagine staging a luxury home for sale?”
I laughed. “Actually…”
“It’s an insane expenditure, and honestly there aren’t as many high-end buyers in Sydney and surrounding area as you might think, given the average house price. Dave’s been sinking disgusting -amounts of money into these investments and only selling a fraction of them. But here’s what I figured out: he’s been ignoring the real home buyers in the area. The middle-and-lower-middle class people, in need of four walls and a roof over their heads.”
I nodded, taking in his words. The musician began another composition as onlookers deposited large coins before departing or standing back for another song. “I get that. But how does knowing that help you turn the business around?”
He smiled, happy to outline his brilliant idea. “You already know I brought my savings here with me – but I haven’t sunk them in yet. You know, I was waiting to figure out how to use them in the best way.”
“And?”
A soft breeze fluttered the wisps of hair on my neck, cooling the beads of sweat that had gathered there during our walk. I sipped on a rapidly-warming icy soda, the cup dripping all over my hands. I didn’t mind, given the wonderful view and the man at my side.
“So I’m going to use that money to buy the company’s next home. But this time, it’s going to be a low-cost fixer-upper. We’ll use the leftover money to do necessary renovations and stage the home with simple but nice furniture and decoration, and sell it quickly to someone desperate to get on the property ladder.”
I considered the idea, bobbing my head from side to side as I did so. “You’re sure there are enough of those kinds of buyers?”
He nodded, confidently closing his eyes for a moment. “I am. The thing is, they all want to live in the centre of Sydney, and can only afford to live in the outer suburbs.”
“Like Parramatta?” I teased.
Adam laughed and squeezed my side before removing his hand and using it to fan himself with the hem of his shirt. “Exactly. That’s just what Dave and Julie did, and it’s what they all do.”
“Okay, so you want to find fixer-upper properties – little ones, I assume – in the heart of the city? Is that possible?”
He shrugged. “It’s not impossible.”
“Okay. It sounds like a good plan to me, Adam. I hope we can make it work.”