2. Jay

2

JAY

I clicked the End Call button on my cell, then placed the device back on its charging mat.

Hot damn, the pricey ad on social media finally paid off.

First things first, Cade had said he wanted all the listings available in the area. That would be far too many, considering Camrose had a population of just under twenty-thousand people, and at any given time the number of total listings hovered around two hundred. No client wanted that many web links.

I needed to understand my client's needs first, and considering I knew nothing about them, an internet search seemed prudent.

The results returned on Cade Ivanov appeared on my laptop. The numerous articles and photos caused me to arch an eyebrow. The list of commentaries referencing his ghost-hunting skills left me gobsmacked. I've had all kinds of clients in the past, but I have never had a psychic medium who cleanses houses of evil spirits.

One particular interview had a photo of him in a tight white T-shirt and faded jeans.

"Damn, he's cute. Well, this should be interesting. What kind of home does a psychic ghost-busting bear of a man want?" Scanning through the myriad of homes for sale in the area I came across a few I thought he might find interesting.

I pulled an old mansion by the university that was assessed toward the lower end of the market for the size of the home, but considering the amount of restoration required, I thought the asking price was reasonable. Then I found a couple of farmsteads just outside of town. One of them had been built recently — last ten years — and had all the modern conveniences of acreage life. Looking at the pictures online, I had to say even I liked the property and made a mental note to myself to go check it out on my own. I had talked many times about getting some land and some animals. The other homestead was across the street from one of the local country churches — one that had been in the area for over a hundred years. The house had a great location and was on a township road that I knew got regular maintenance — due to said religious organization. That was important on the Canadian prairies, where winter snowstorms were a regular thing. People wanted an acreage that had the eye of the county and got ploughed regularly. It also happened to be my ex's grandmother's place. I'd seen it several times and the yard was gorgeous in the summer. It could be a solid contender if Cade didn't mind being a little out of town.

After an hour of combing through local brokers' listings, I had a fairly wide representation of homes — everything from condos to townhomes, and even a rare find for our area, a ranch-style bungalow that had been updated. Cade hadn't given me any specifics other than "gimmie everything."

I composed an email with the listings attached and hit Send. It was mid-afternoon, but close enough to three o'clock that I decided to call it a day. Besides, a realtor's day is never really over. I'd field calls tonight and most likely scan the internet for additional possibilities to entice Cade into a purchase. I mean, cash in my pocket was the end goal, but having a hunk like that move into town? Bonus.

I'd have to watch my phone for his response to my suggested listings.

This job never had a downtime. I even had clients call in the middle of the night.

A quick drive to the school, where I thought I would be early and miss the chaos of the pick-up line, proved me wrong. The agency's phone rang just as I was leaving, and duty called. It was the Olsons, who wanted to put their parents' home on the market as they were admitting their aging mother into long-term care. I made an appointment with them to evaluate the property and do a market analysis.

By the time I reached the school, the other parents were already lined up, eager to collect their children, and of course, I ended up behind Linda Ortega. Lovely lady, and her son often played with mine after school as they lived close by, but she was perpetually disorganized, and getting in line behind her meant I would be waiting an extra ten to fifteen minutes.

I grit my teeth.

The bell rang precisely at three o'clock signalling the end of the school day. Being March, the kids would have to dredge out to their lockers, put on all of their winter gear, and then head out the door. I probably had another fifteen minutes to wait.

Shifting the car into park, I dug my phone out and perused social media, searched out Cade Ivanov, found nothing, and had just scrolled to a funny meme when the cell vibrated.

An email notification.

I flipped over to the email app and was surprised to see a response from Cade.

"Hi,

Thanks for the listings. Is this all of them? The mansion is an absolute no. Too much history. But the new acreage looks interesting. Are they firm on their price, or could that be negotiated?"

I sent back a quick reply but scanned the school doors first. No sign of life, yet, but that would change quickly.

"I can find you some newer builds if that's what you're looking for. Do you have a price range? My number is in my signature line, feel free to text me instead of email if you find that easier." I hit Send, then placed my phone on the console just as a parade of small people erupted from the school's front doors.

Samuel ran up to the car, yanked on the handle, and almost threw himself into the passenger seat.

"Hi, Dad," he said.

"Hey, kiddo. So, how did today go?" At ten years old, he was no longer a dependent toddler, and he did well in his grades, so of course, as his dad, I was convinced he was smarter than all the other kids in his class. He was getting to a good age. The hormones wouldn't kick in for a few more years, but the constant barrage of "Why?" was long over, and instead I was regularly treated to far more complicated questions.

"Fine. Randy fell off the monkey bars at recess and ended up having to go to St. Mary's Hospital for stitches." He said with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"Lots of blood?" I asked, knowing how much he loved gore. He had convinced me to watch a horror movie not that long ago. They are not my favourite kind of movie. In fact, I detest them. Nothing worse than paying good money to get the shit scared out of you.

"Oh boy was there ever! Mrs. Stevenson said head wounds bleed a lot." Samuel dug through his backpack, intent on finding something.

"Mrs. Stevenson isn't wrong! You're staying over with your mom this weekend, right?"

"Yeah, but I have my science project I have to work on. Are you sure I can't stay with you? You're better at science than she is." He stopped his digging and glanced at me.

"Ah, come on, kiddo, you know the rules. Weekdays with me and every second weekend with your mom. That's the way it's got to be." I put my signal light on and tried to inch the car forward, a sheer impossibility with the traffic snarls from all the other parents trying to do the same thing: collect their offspring. Linda Ortega was still in front of me, now rifling through the trunk of her Civic looking for something. God knew what, but she was holding up the line.

"Hmph." Samuel snorted, unhappy about the upcoming residential switch.

"Sorry, champ, but we have to give your mom some time!"

"I guess."

"Hey, that's not fair. Your mom loves you and you always have a good time when you go visit. But if things go off the rails, call me, and I'll see if I can pop over. Okay?"

"Thanks, Dad."

Susan was my ex. We were married, briefly. Not much to say other than we were better off as friends and not as a couple. She got pregnant shortly after our wedding and now we have Samuel. I always wanted to be a dad; she wasn't particularly keen on being a mom. So when we split, the custody arrangements meant I got Samuel most of the time, but Susan still had him in her life — and I wouldn't want it any other way.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up out of the console and checked. It was a message from Cade.

"Um, well, my budget isn't huge, but anything under $300,000 should be doable. Will that get me something newer?"

I pounded out a reply, still waiting on Linda.

"It's not an exorbitant amount, but I think I can find some options. Still on for eleven tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, if that's not too soon?"

"No, that'll be fine. Just come to the office. I'll meet you there, and then I can take you around."

"Excellent. Thank you. See you tomorrow."

As Cade was a client, I shouldn't have been thinking about what he looked like without a shirt as I placed the phone in the cupholder of the car's console. I had found a couple more photos from those articles taken during our hot summer months, showing him in various T-shirts. I might have saved them. The stretch over his chest had me salivating. I hoped he was furry too. Loved that in a guy. Beard, muscles, and fur. Yes, please.

I have dated both guys and gals, and Sam knows. He was remarkably cool with it all, but then, at ten years old he had many other things that occupied his mind that held greater importance — namely the latest released video game.

I did have a boyfriend a couple of years back, but that ended up being a disaster. Since then, I haven't had time for dating. My real estate office was more important, and being able to provide for Sam meant the family came first.

"Oh, my God, Linda. Look for it at home," I rolled my eyes to the heavens as I mumbled in disdain.

"She's looking for Kit's indoor soccer shoes. He has practice right now," Sam offered.

"That woman's disorganization will be the death of me, and everyone else behind us." We sat there until she finally yanked the cleats out of the trunk, ran to the driver's side, and started up her car. There were a few impatient honks from further back in the line. Far enough removed from the scene of the crime to maintain some anonymity. Living in a small town, everything you do gets noticed, accounted for, and used against you at a future date.

Linda leaned out her car window and waved at me, mouthing the word ‘sorry'. I waved politely to her, but my brain had already concocted several choice words to sling at her.

Small-town life was one thing, but as a realtor in the said small town, my reputation was everything and as a business owner repeat business became incredibly important. So, civility and a smile everywhere I went in public was an absolute must.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?" I turned my head and asked Sam, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Pizza!"

"We can do that." This is what I call Smart Parenting 101. I knew Sam would go for pizza; he always did. What ten-year-old boy wouldn't? I was too tired to cook and needed to spend some time getting Cade set up for tomorrow morning. Big-chested, bearded Cade. He really was quite stunning, and I couldn't wait to see him up close and personal.

Sam wanted pepperoni, and I wanted Hawaiian — Sam had tried to argue against the pineapple, but I love it. After a quick call to our local pizzeria, I disappeared into my office and got to work.

I called around to the other agents who owned the listings Cade had said he wanted to go to. A couple were mine so I called my clients to let them know they had a showing. Everyone was pleasant enough to vacate their houses with less than twenty-four hours' notice. But again, small-town mentality meant that if they had an interest in their home that was currently listed, they made sure to make every opportunity to accommodate their realtor.

It hadn't happened to me, but there were a few houses on the market here in town that had been listed for a couple of years. Some because the owners were not motivated to sell and some because the homes were dumps.

But we never used that term. It was far too negative. We like to refer to those down-on-your-luck sales as ‘opportunities'. I usually say something like, "This place is just begging for your own personal touch."

Pizza arrived and I took five minutes to pay the guy, call Sam, and dish out dinner. Then I returned to my office.

After a couple of hours, I had everything set up and ready to go for my meeting with Cade. Glancing at the clock, I noted it was nine already, and time for Sam to go to bed. I shut down my laptop, walked out of the room, turned off the light, and closed the door. I made my way upstairs to Sam's bedroom. His door was partially closed, so he didn't notice I was in the hall.

I could hear him playing.

"No, I don't think so. Maybe?" His voice lilted at the end indicating his uncertainty. He was chatting with his imaginary friends. He'd had them all his life, and different playmates would come and go. "I think Dad likes him, but we'll see."

I scrunched my face over to one side. Had he been looking at my phone? How would he have known about Cade? Or was I making assumptions?

I gently rapped on his door. "Hey, champ, it's bedtime. Can I come in?"

"Sure, Dad." He said. As I swung the door to his room open, he sat on his bed with two comic books out, one in front of him, and one in front of his imaginary playmate.

"New friend?"

"Nah, Olivia's been around for a while, Dad. I told you about her." Sam smiled.

"Right. She lives next door?" I asked.

"Yup." He nodded.

"Okay, let's get our teeth brushed and get to bed. School comes early in the morning, and we all know how well you do in the morning."

"About as good as you, at least until you've had coffee, and then you're not so grumpy."

"When did you get so observant?" I shook my head. The kid wasn't wrong. His dislike of the morning hours was a direct genetic gift from me. I shooed him out his door to finish getting ready for bed.

The comics still lay on his bed. Then I noticed the spot where Olivia supposedly sat looked like it was indented into the mattress. My head quirked to one side, and then I shook my noggin, dislodging the bizarre thought from my head, and went to supervise Sam's bedtime routine. He would cut corners when brushing his teeth and not use toothpaste if I didn't make him.

I left the bedroom, went across the hall, chatted with Sam while he brushed, then escorted him back to his room.

I snatched up the comics, laid the pile on his desk, and tucked him into his bed. I shut the light off and started to close the door.

That's when I noticed the indent in the mattress was gone.

You are over tired, Jay. You should go to bed as well .