“Yeah, okay. What?”
I take a deep breath. “Listen, there’s a development out here. It’s up for auction. Tax foreclosure or something. I’m thinking about…”
“Penny?” I hear her stop what she’s doing and really listen. “A development? Out there?”
“Yeah… so, eighty-something units, infrastructure is in, models are up, and nothing’s happening. It’s right off the highway.”
“Wait… are you talking about buying your own development? Being your own developer?”
“I know it’s a stretch, okay? But I’m never gonna get anywhere with Nathan, and I know how to run the project, and some good clean living in middle America couldn’t hurt for Ethan.”
“Fuck yeah, girl!” Wanda hoots triumphantly. “Get it, girl! You know I am behind you 100 percent! Whatever you need, I will totally back you.”
“No, I don’t need you to back me,” I answer in a rush. “I’m not asking you for money, just advice. A development out here? Can I really do that?”
She sighs just a little bit, plainly frustrated. Wanda has offered to help me a hundred times, and I always turn her down. I don’t want to be someone who ruins a friendship over money. I just don’t.
“You can absolutely do it,” she says sincerely, sweetly. “Nobody has instincts like you, Penny. You’re the best. It’s time everybody knew that. Go do it.”
I do a little silent fist pump in the air, swelling with confidence.
“Yes! Thank you, Wanda. I just needed some of your pep talk magic. Can I talk to Ethan?”
“Oh, he’s gonna have to call you back. I think he went to the shower or something. Go be a badass, Penny! Call me later and tell me what happens!”
“Okay!” I say, swallowing my disappointment that Ethan didn’t wait around to talk to me. I guess it is normal teenage boy things, but still.
All the way to the courthouse, I cartwheel through mental math exercises. If I spend 80 percent of my savings, I’ll have enough left over to do investor presentations. If I spend any more than that, I will be in trouble. Maybe, magically, it’ll be more like 60 or 70 percent, and I’ll be able to do some real work. Maybe, if I am a very lucky girl, one of those units is already close to livable.
Maybe all the stars will align.
The woman at the registration takes my earnest money check and scowls at it, then hands me a slip of paper with a bidder number on it. I’m tempted to ask her how it all works, but she has a sour look on her face so I just take my ticket and shuffle off.
A small crowd of people stand in front of the auctioneer, a bored-looking man in a too-tight polo shirt and gray trousers. Just like the old days, we really are on the county courthouse steps. He has eight properties to auction, and the first ones give me an idea of how the process works.
It’s just like a TV auction: he starts the bidding at a dollar amount, say twenty-five thousand dollars for a house the county owns, and the bidders raise their hands to indicate that they want to bid on the property until someone wins it.
When he finally gets to the development, I am ready to go. About half the crowd has wandered off, clearly done with the items they were interested in. There’s just a few of us, and I keep my eyes fixed on the auctioneer, eagerly anticipating the first bids.
To my dismay, the starting bid is already most of what I have saved. I raise my hand anyway and he points at me to acknowledge that I have the winning position.
Two seconds later, another man outbids me. He doubles my bid, completely obliterating anything I could have done. I’m crushed, until I look over and see Ron in a purple tracksuit, nodding with satisfaction. He glances over to me and raises his eyebrows, shrugging apologetically.
“The item is sold!” the auctioneer announces. “That concludes this month’s auctions. Please proceed to the registrar to complete your sales.”
“That’s it?” I mutter to myself, completely deflated.
“Shit, was that you?” Ron asks, taking me aback by the sincere look of apology on his face. “You didn’t say anything… I didn’t even know you were looking at Crosswind, Penny.”
I shake my head, confused. Why is he being nice? Maybe I forgot, and this is some kind of Midwestern thing? I’ve never had a competitor apologize for beating me before.
“No, it’s all right, Ron,” I smile gamely. “It was really a long shot, anyway. Just a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
He scratches his bald spot contemplatively. “I’m totally surprised to see you here, sorry. I don’t even know what to say! It’s actually kind of cool… Did you have plans for it? Is your company looking to expand or something? I pretty much have this region locked up in a lot of ways, but if you were looking…”
Suddenly
, a completely crazy idea occurs to me. Completely insane.