Page 63

“Hello, Ms. Swallows. So sorry I missed you. I hate to leave this in a voicemail, but I’m headed out for the day and wanted you to know what’s happening as soon as possible. You’ll have an email in your inbox explaining all this as well, but unfortunately, we’ve run into a snag on our end. During our final review, we discovered a discrepancy in the property’s appraisal value compared to recent sales in the area. The comps from the past month are really throwing a wrench in things.”
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no…
I bite my bottom lip hard enough to send pain flashing through my jaw, starting to feel like I’m cursed.
Mary sighs, clearly hating every word of the bad news she’s compelled to deliver. “But they are what they are, and given the extent of the necessary repairs, we’re going to need an additional twenty thousand down to process the loan. The lender is nolonger comfortable with the lower amount of leverage. I’m so sorry to deliver this kind of update so late in the process, but the good news is that I can get your closing pushed to next week. That’s no problem. That’ll give you more time to get creative with your finances.”
Creative? There’s no amount of creativity on my part that can solve this, and I seriously doubt Sydney’s connections are going to be interested in a neighborhood that’s lost value in a market where property prices usually only move in one direction—up.
“Give me a call back tomorrow morning, okay?” Mary adds. “I’m happy to talk this through with you further and hopefully get a new closing date on our schedule. Have a good rest of your day and…sorry again.”
Sorry…
She really does sound sorry, but not as sorry as I am.
I amsosorry. I should have known better than to swing for the fences. I’m not that kind of girl. I’m a “play it safe and small” kind of girl. I should have started with a cottage in Maine and moved on to larger vacation home purchases, just like my parents.
“Only I don’t want to be like my parents,” I whisper through the tears pushing at the backs of my eyes.
I want to be brave and bold.
I want to grow and evolve and be part of the world outside our tiny corner of it.
Just like that, I decide not to ask Anthony to meet me at the coffee shop like a coward.
I’mnota coward. A fool, maybe, but not a coward.
Inside his apartment building, I take the stairs two at a time, arriving winded at his door, but I don’t pause to catch my breath. I work my key into the bottom lock and click it open. I’m about to set to work on the deadbolt, when the door flies wide, revealing a very worried-looking Anthony on the other side.
“Where have you been?” he asks, frowning as I push past him, dumping my purse on the bench by the door. “I’ve called three times.”
“I was with a friend and had my ringer off,” I say, turning back to face him, my hands propped on my hips, ready to do battle.
“I’ve been worried sick,” he says, his gaze skimming up and down my body, for once looking more concerned than appreciative.
I realize he’s looking for injuries and some of my irritation fades.
Still, he lied to me this morning and didn’t text for hours after. And I’ve had too terrible a day to feel anything but raw and scared and braced for the worst.
“You didn’t seem in any hurry to text me this morning,” I counter. “And I was worried, too. Worried that you weren’t who I thought you were.” I arch a challenging brow as I add in a pointed tone, “How’s Chris?”
He doesn’t miss a beat before confessing, “There is no Chris. I lied. I’m so sorry, Maya.”
Well…shit. I’m a little shocked by how easy this was, but I do my best not to show it. “I know. You’re a crappy liar. Your phone didn’t even have a new message on it. At least not as far as I could see.”
“No, it didn’t. And yeah, I am,” he says, a pleading note creeping into his tone. “But I’m hoping that’s something you’ll learn to appreciate about me. In time.” He takes a small step closer, adding in a softer voice, “I really hope I can earn more of your time, Maya. That’s all I want.”
Love and hope surge in my chest.
But if this day has taught me anything, it’s how important it is to look before you leap.
“We can talk,” I say, keeping my guard up as best I can in the face of his magnetic gaze locked on mine. “I’ll give you the chance to explain. That’s all I’m promising right now.”
He winces, but nods. “All right. How about an explanation over a drink? And maybe dinner?”
“All right,” I say. “I guess we have to eat. I’ll feed Pudge and we can go.”