The Foxe & the Hound

“You haven’t had clients since then? How is that possible? Carter was about to buy a house from you just a second ago.”

She stares down at her empty wine glass. “There have been a few—like Mr. Boggs. He’s here tonight and I’ve probably shown him a thousand houses, but he’s never going to buy anything.”

“Why do you continue entertaining him then? He’s probably just bored.”

Or worse, he wants to spend time with Madeleine any way he can. I wouldn’t put it past some men.

“Yeah, well, I feel bad.” Her finger traces the rim of her wine glass. “Maybe he does want to buy a house and he just hasn’t found the right one yet.”

Ah, I see her problem. When it comes to real estate, Lori is a snake and Madeleine might as well be a rabbit. A few things make sense now.

“That’s why you were so eager to talk to me about real estate at that first training class.”

She nods. “Helen put me on probation and I knew if I didn’t make something happen soon, she’d give me the axe.”

A waiter passes, and I take her empty glass and trade it for two fresh ones. “Well, here’s to proving them wrong.”

She beams and clinks her glass with mine. “And to buying the farmhouse of your dreams.”

“Madeleine, there you are!”

“Mr. Boggs,” she says with a smile. “I was just going to come over and show you a few listings.”

He groans and shakes his head, acting every bit the old miser his name suggests. “Don’t bother. Already looked. There was nothin’ good. I’m going home. Tell that boss of yours she needs to serve more food at these things. Wine and beer galore, but not a damn bread roll in sight.”

Madeleine laughs. “I couldn’t agree more. I actually stuffed some granola bars in my purse if you want one.”

He perks up a bit at the mention of food. “They’re not those healthy ones are they?”

She laughs. “C’mon, you can pick which one you want.”

Without Madeleine, I weave my way through the party, recognizing a few faces in the crowd from the puppy class and the clinic. A few of them even stop to chat with me, but I try to keep an eye out for Madeleine the whole time. After she finishes up with Mr. Boggs, Carter grabs her attention again, cornering her over by a table with all of Hamilton Realty’s current listings. I swear she shows him every damn house twice before the man is satisfied, and though I’m tempted to step in like I did before, I know it won’t do any good. She needs to make sales if she wants to get Helen off her back.

By the time I’ve finished my second beer and strategically covered two yawns, she’s moved on to another potential client. I’m ready to head out, and I don’t want to interrupt. She scans the room and finds me so I gesture toward the parking lot and mouth, “I’m leaving.”

She juts out her bottom lip and mouths back, “Stay.”

I’m tempted, but I don’t want to take up any more of her time. She needs to mingle with clients and I need sleep. I wave and her bottom lip juts out a little more. I sigh and turn for my car, knowing if I don’t leave now, I probably won’t.

When I get home, I unlock the door to my rental house and flip on the light. Everything is quiet inside, not a single item out of place. The housekeeper must have come by today because the rooms seem even more sterile than usual. I toss my keys in the bowl by the door then flip on the TV and the living room light, not because I want them on but because they help disguise the fact that I’m home alone. The soothing sounds of ESPN barely do the trick.

I take a seat on the couch the previous owners left behind. The whole place came furnished, which is part of the reason why it feels temporary and, well, sad. Take the couch, for instance. It’s made out of fake red leather, a color that burns my eyes every time I look at it. The potpourri on the coffee table has likely been sitting in the same glass bowl for the last thirty years. A tapestry of Dogs Playing Poker hangs on one wall. In short, it’s not my style. I feel like I’m a guest in someone else’s home, which was the intention in the beginning. I didn’t want to dig in too deep too fast, but how long can I keep skimming the surface of my life?

Olivia and I had a house and a dog, two great careers, and a large circle of friends. I doubt anyone would have guessed we’d break up a few months before the wedding, that she would sleep with my best friend instead of telling me she wanted to end it.