Foods, Fools and a Dead Psychic Maria Swan (top rated ebook readers TXT) 📖

looked at me the way I look at bugs. “New listings? It’s December. I’m taking the rest of the month off. I’m going to Utah, skiing.” Then he did something rather peculiar, even for an odd guy like Scott. He walked to the back of my car and kicked my tire. “You need to get your tire fixed. This one is flat. How long have you been driving on a flat tire?”

“Flat tire?” I echoed. That explained why I had trouble driving. Ah. Damn Mondays!

Scott watched me squat down to check out the tire, or at least pretend I did. It looked a bit out of air, but flat? Except, it seemed to get flatter as I watched. I grabbed my stuff, “Thanks. I’ll call AAA. I have a spare.”

If he heard me he didn’t care. He kept rearranging the white wooden posts on the back of the truck. Skiing in Utah. Hard to imagine snow in the next state when it was like late spring weather in Phoenix. Max was supposed to be skiing in Telluride. Good for him. I grew up in the Italian Dolomites and ski slopes were only about thirty minutes from home. Even so, I had never had any interest in skiing. However, I did like the après ski. Liked it? Loved it. All the fun without huffing and puffing to get to the top of crowded slopes. The fun memories put a smile in my heart and a skip in my steps. Inside, the office was busy. Or maybe it looked that way because more agents sat around the bullpen and chatted now that sellers didn’t want us in their homes.

“Hi, Kassandra.” I bypassed her desk and headed straight for the kitchen and the coffee maker.

“Monica, someone called about your appointment for a photo shoot. You have a new listing you forgot to enter in the system.”

“Oh, no, no. I’m following Kay’s suggestion. Yes, we are taking pictures, lots of pictures and I’ll probably list the property by the end of the week. Oh, Scott just told me he’s taking time off and going skiing in Utah. What am I going to do about the post and the sign?”

“Don’t pay too much attention to Scott. He did the same thing last year. He was back in the office after the second day. Too cold,” she snickered.

“You talking about me again?” Scott stood by the front door, looking more bored than upset. “I’ve got to go to pick up a sign in Scottsdale. Do you want me to move it over to your new listing?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s so nice of you, but it’s a gated community, and I need to get the okay from the HOA before I do anything,” I said.

He shrugged. “Don’t forget your tire.” He turned around and left.

“What’s wrong with your tire?” Kassandra asked.

My coffee was getting cold. “My rear tire went flat. I’m going to my cubicle and call AAA; they are really good about it. Hey, want to stop for a chat after work?” I winked at her, she knew I meant drink. Her big grin was a yes.

I could see Sunny in her glass domain, talking on the phone. I was curious to know if Kassandra had told Sunny about Celine’s presence at the Physic Fair. It ought to be interesting. The bad feeling brought on by Brenda’s dismissal of our planned and highly anticipated chat about Tristan in favor of an evening with Bob Clarke still lingered, but not as strong. Plus, I had to get the tire taken care of, my appointment with the photographer was in one hour, and it was too late to reschedule. I pulled out my AAA card from my wallet and dialed. I made the mistake of telling the road assistance operator I wasn’t in any danger, but sitting comfortably in my office, so my call wasn’t entered as an emergency. Damn. And it was Monday.

I was too fidgety to sit back and twiddle my thumbs. Might as well get my files organized. Checked my SupraBox key container. Okay it wasn’t mine. Sunny loaned it to me, but the eKey was all mine, bought and paid for with my first commission. I checked, fully charged. Each time an iBox is opened, both the key and iBox record the date, time and the identity of the key holder. That’s why I had to have my own. Sunny had warned me, “Guard it with your life.” I had memorized my code and plugged the eKey in every evening, whether I had used it or not.

Kay’s office door was closed. That explained why I didn’t see her car in the parking lot. Time moved slowly, too slowly. I needed to get on the road in about fifteen minutes in order to make it to the Scottsdale listing in plenty of time. I called the AAA road service number again, got a different operator and explained my problem. Only to be told that it would be another twenty minutes before their technician got to me. Rats. I couldn’t sit still. I walked back to the kitchen, rinsed out my mug and put it back on the shelf.

“What’s with you?” Not much got by Kassandra. Probably why everyone liked her. I told her about my conversation with AAA.

“You’re not picking up clients, just meeting the photographer, right?”

“No. No clients, and the home we are photographing is vacant. The owners left a few pieces of furniture so we can do a little staging for the photos. Makes the rooms look better, you know.” I kept an even tone, but inside I was screaming to get on the road.

“Here.” Kassandra handed me a key.

“What is this for?”

“The key to my Kia. Just take it. Get the photos done and then bring it back. Leave me your keys and your AAA card. By the time you’re back your tire will be replaced. Now stop hyperventilating. You’re stressing me out.’

“Huh, I — you’re sure?”

“Really Monica, my car is a