“Nothing yet,” he said. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. What this thing is going to do to me. To us,” he added.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she confided. “Not that that would affect my work. With the details of the sale.”
“I don’t think an asteroid hitting Crowley Lake could do that,” Maxwell felt a smile creeping over his lips. “You’ve got one hell of a work ethic.”
“Thank you,” Chloe sounded like she was blushing. She probably looked cute when she blushed, Maxwell thought. Pink cheeks, those big blue eyes downcast, hidden beneath inky lashes. Why was that thought so appealing? “I do my best,” she added quickly. “To provide a smooth and easy service for my clients, that is.”
“Well, I’ve been very impressed,” Maxwell said. “With your service.” He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. Even if he had been just as impressed with the way Chloe looked. “And the way you handled this curse stuff. I mean, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had freaked out and thrown some punches.”
Chloe laughed, and it was a nice laugh, he thought. Soft and low. “I considered it,” she admitted. “But what would freaking out achieve? It’s just a problem I need to solve, and I do that every day.”
“It’s not exactly an everyday problem,” Maxwell once again felt guilty for not telling her the truth. “Even in Crowley Lake, which I’m starting to see lives up to its reputation.”
“Honestly, the paranormal doesn’t come up much in my everyday life,” Chloe said. “Unless I’m with Jesse.”
“Then it’s even more impressive that you didn’t freak out,” Maxwell said, and he meant it. “Thanks for that.”
“I should be thanking you,” Chloe said. “Not every client would be willing to go through with a sale after getting cursed by shaking my hand.”
Maxwell winced at that. He’d have to say something, he thought. Maybe not the whole truth, but he couldn’t let Chloe blame herself. If only he could find the right words.
“Well, I couldn’t let a little curse stop me from getting my hands on that house,” he said instead. “I’ll see you later, right?”
“Right,” Chloe said, and her tone became clipped and businesslike once more, no hint of the charming vulnerability she had let slip. “The current owner will sign the contract in Sydney, and I’ll get that couriered straight up here. Assuming nothing happens to the motorway, the Sanguis Estate will be yours by tonight.”
“Great,” Maxwell said. “Well, I’ll see you then.”
“See you then,” Chloe said, and the call ended.
Maxwell held the phone to his chest, thinking. He had to tell her something, he thought. But how?
Bailey Street, the main street of Crowley Lake, looked particularly picturesque in the dim light of sunset when he emerged. The graceful arches of windows, intricate stone columns, decorative brickwork, and old-fashioned lampposts made him almost feel like he was back in the time when he had been human.
It was only the people that had changed; sharp suits and drop waist dresses had predominated in his day. They had been replaced by jeans and sneakers, athleisure, and the occasional miniskirt. He didn’t mind the miniskirts one bit.
Crowley Lake Realty wasn’t an Art Deco building. Maxwell would have guessed 1950s, updated after the turn of the century. But with the huge glass windows and neat sign, it was a pleasant little space. He stopped before going inside, looking at the listings for other properties in the window. A cabin with a massive plot of land but no inside toilet. A sprawling modern house that boasted a six-car garage. Surely that was excessive, Maxwell thought. He appreciated a good car as much as the next person, but six seemed like a lot. Then again, most people would consider the quantity of antique poker memorabilia he had collected over the years to be excessive. There was no accounting for taste.
Between the listings, he could see Chloe at a sleek black desk, her head bent over her computer and a slight frown on her face. She looked tired, he thought. She probably hadn’t slept any better than him, with a curse to worry about. Another twinge of guilt. He watched as she sighed and began to massage her temples before checking her watch. She was clearly expecting him any moment now.
Maxwell tried the door but found himself repelled as if by an invisible force. Well, that was odd. He had to be invited into someone’s home, but shops and businesses were fair game, even for his kind. Coughing slightly, he knocked on the door, waiting for Chloe to see him.
At the sight of him, she looked up, raising a hand in greeting and plastering on a smile that was clearly meant to mask the anxiety and exhaustion that were clear on her delicate features. As she rose from the desk, Maxwell could see that today she was wearing a plum-coloured pencil skirt that showed off the curve of her hips. Sadly, she had paired it with a high-necked blouse that hid the delicate soft skin that he knew must be beneath it. Not that he was thinking about Chloe without a blouse. Of course not. He needed to keep his thoughts strictly professional and avoid any entanglements. At least until this curse business was sorted out. Maybe then he could think about—
“It’s not locked,” Chloe said, opening the door and looking at him in confusion.
“You need to invite me in,” Maxwell raised his eyebrows. “The unseen forces think this is your home, apparently.”
“Oh, sorry!” Chloe looked apologetic. “Um, I invite you in. Welcome.” She stood aside, and when Maxwell tried again to step over the threshold, there was no resistance.
“You know, if this place counts as your home, you probably spend too much time here,” Maxwell said conversationally. “You kind of strike me as the workaholic type.”
Chloe blushed but shook her head. “My studio is just upstairs,” she said, pointing at a staircase leading up to the unknown. “Although you’re probably right; I’ve been accused of being a workaholic before. Just ask Jesse.” She wrinkled her nose, shrugging.
“I’d rather not. He didn’t seem to like me very much.”
“I’m sure he did,” Chloe said quickly, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “I think he was just being protective of me. You know, with the whole curse thing. But it’s not your fault; we have no idea what set it off.”
This was the perfect moment. Maxwell knew that. He should tell her now.