92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [74]
“Really?”
He forged ahead. “The rent’s reasonable, too.”
“How…reasonable?”
He named a figure that was about half the going rate, which was what he speculated she’d be able to afford.
“How much?” Mary Jo sat up straight. “There must be something wrong with the place.”
“Not really. Oh, it could use a bit of paint and cleaning, but basically that’s about it.” Then, pressing his luck, he added, “The owner’s a nice guy. He’s currently …out of town, but you can meet him later if you like. I’m acting as his manager.” That was an inspired idea, he thought, and not a lie. He was the manager. And this conveniently “out-of-town” owner would appear sometime in the future. Mack had no intention of misleading her for long; his objective was to get her moved to Cedar Cove. Once she’d made the transition he’d find a good opportunity to tell her about the “owner.” In the meantime, he’d have her write the rent checks to his accountant, Zachary Cox.
Nibbling on her lower lip, Mary Jo mulled this over. “Would it be a problem…you know, having me and Noelle next door?”
“A problem?” he repeated. “Not for me. What about you?”
She shook her head. “I think it’d be great. But I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”
“I can’t see that happening.” In fact, he had to work at not showing how thrilled he’d be to have Mary Jo and Noelle as his next-door neighbors.
Mary Jo continued to look speculative as if her instincts were telling her this wasn’t a wise decision.
“Would you like to see the duplex?” he asked, hoping to distract her.
“Oh…sure.”
“I was painting before my shift at the fire station, so it’s pretty messy.”
“Why were you painting?” she asked. “Isn’t that the landlord’s responsibility?”
“Normally it would be,” Mack said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I offered to do it in exchange for a reduction in rent. He, uh, wants first and last months’ upfront.”
“I have that in savings, so I’m not concerned.”
They finished their drinks and Mack drove Mary Jo past the Senior Center to 1022 Evergreen Place.
Mary Jo’s eyes darted up and down the street. “This is a nice neighborhood,” she said appreciatively.
Mack had thought so, too, which was one reason he’d made an offer. This was a good place to raise a family.
“Now I really don’t understand why the rent’s so low,” Mary Jo said, frowning.
“Like you said earlier,” he rushed to explain, “the cost of living is less on this side of Puget Sound.”
“I had no idea it would be this much less.”
Mack was beginning to think he might have overdone it. “You can always check out other rentals.”
“I could,” she agreed, “but I like this one.”
Mack relaxed. “I understand there’s an eligible bachelor in close proximity, too.” The instant the words were out of his mouth, Mack regretted them. Mary Jo was emotionally fragile, and he didn’t want to frighten her off by appearing to pursue anything but friendship. He ignored the reproach that nagged at him—that he was being manipulative.
In any case, his joke didn’t elicit a response. Instead, Mary Jo stared out the window. After a moment, she said, “I’m not going to be dating anyone for a long while.”
It was a veiled warning, a signal. He considered offering reassurances, but that would have led to more lies, or half-truths, anyway. So he asked, “Would you like to take a look inside?”
“Please.”
He wanted to give her an opportunity to get to know him—and trust him. Living side by side as neighbors and friends was the way to do that. Her brothers weren’t going to appreciate his efforts, but that was their problem.
Mack helped her down from the truck. “I have the key,” he told her. “You’d be in Unit B.” He opened the door and gestured her inside. A sheet lay across the living room floor with a bucket of paint, a roller and brushes resting next to it. The fresh, clean smell of recently painted walls greeted them. On his mother’s advice, he’d chosen a pale, buttery yellow, which worked with the small rooms yet had a subtle warmth.
“I only have a few pieces of furniture,” Mary Jo said as she moved