Page 1 of A Place to Call Home
Chapter One
Most people believe the three most important words in real estate arelocation,location,location. Ada Canton knew better, and she had four years as the top realtor in her area to prove it.
Herthree crucial words?Home, sweet home.
Even if she was helping a client find a vacation home, it was still ahome. The key lay in discovering what meanthometo each client.
She looked over the requirements that her newest client, Craig Adamson, had provided. They included the usual emotionless list buyers came up with first:Condo or Townhome. 2+ bedrooms. 2+ baths. Backyard.His price range would work, provided he wasn’t looking for a beachfront or ocean view. That was enough to get started. After all, the first day out wasn’t aboutfindinga perfect match; it was about discovering what wouldmakea match perfect.
“Ada.” The receptionist, Shantice, peeked inside the office, the many strands of her bright yellow earrings clanking about. “Your ten o’clock is here.”
“Thanks.” Ada closed her laptop. “Any insights?”
Shantice leaned against the doorframe. She spun her bangle around her wrist. “Late thirties, I’d guess.”
More likely to have reasonable expectations than someone younger.
“Sharp dresser, but nothing designer.”
Looking for quality but probably not a lot of wiggle room in the budget.
“He took a call from someone with a missing homework assignment that turned out to be in their backpack.”
Second bedroom is for his kid. As is the backyard, probably.She mentally crossed one location off her list; the schools weren’t great in that area.
“Anything else?”
“He’s gorgeous.” Shantice always brought Ada a report on new clients, but she’d never includedthattype of information.
“Why is it important for me, as his realtor, to know that?”
“It’s not important. . . as hisrealtor.” She cocked her head to one side, eying Ada scoldingly. “It’s important for you as a woman who hasn’t had a steady relationship in two years or a date in at least a month. I’m telling you, he’s hot.”
“My last boyfriend was what most would consider ‘hot,’” Ada said,pulling her handbag off its hook near the door. “And a jerk. Being good-looking isn’t enough.”
“Maybe this guy’s different.”
“Maybe.” Ada made sure she had her phone. “But he’s not here looking for a date; he’s looking for a home.”
Shantice gave her an exasperated look. “You won’t even consider it?”
“I’m not bitter or against the idea of finding someone or anything like that,” Ada said. “I’m just not falling all over myself looking for a guy.”
“You were there for me when my life was falling apart,” Shantice said. “I want to return the favor.”
Ada shook her head. She didn’t really thinkherlife was falling apart. “If I do find someone interesting— who isn’t also a slimeball— I’ll give him a chance. I promise.”
Shantice’s gaze narrowed. “Promise you’ll tell me if it happens?”
“Of course I will.” They were friends, after all. “You’re the best.”
“According to your business cards,youare the best.”
Shantice had given her a hard time about that ever since Ada’s new cards had arrived. But when a person was named the top in her profession several years in a row, that sort of thing ought to be mentioned. It wasn’t as though she’d had it printed in an extra-large font or anything.
Ada slipped the tablet into her shoulder bag. “Time to go work my magic.”
They turned the corner. Only one person sat in the sitting area— a guy, as Shantice had described, probably mid-thirties, dressed nicely but not overdone. And definitely good-looking. Dark, wavy hair. A hint of stubble on his firm jaw. An absolutely tantalizing mouth.
