Mr. H.O.A., Carina Taylor [uplifting book club books .txt] 📗

didn’t make a mocking comment. Rather, he nodded as though he understood.

"You really should use it though; it’s sitting there empty."

"I’m not comfortable staying at a house when I haven’t met the owners or signed a lease agreement. What if one of the neighbor’s asks why I’m there?"

I shrugged. "Well, there’s a hammock in the backyard and even an outdoor shower, if you’re not comfortable staying in the house. As long as you don’t go to the neighborhood block parties, I’m sure they’ll leave you alone."

"What will you do?"

"I’m going to try to find a roommate who won’t kill me in my sleep."

His teeth pulled at his bottom lip as he said, "Well, in that case, good luck, and be careful in the empty building."

I snapped a quick salute as I opened the driver door to my car. "Righto."

He ignored my sassy salute and headed straight for his shiny, black SUV. The man really was all about appearances. Fancy suits, shiny cars. Yet he stayed at The Market Street Apartments?

There had to be a reason. Perhaps it was similar to my own. Maybe we more similar than it seemed.

CHAPTER THREE

Homeowners Association Rule #54:

Home operated businesses must be approved by the current HOA president.

"I hear the business is running you down a bit. Ready to sell out?"

I set my coffee cup down on my desk as Sterling Parsons stepped into my office. He was as exciting to see as Tax day.

"What can I do for you, Sterling? We already closed on the Stevens’ home. I don't see any reason why you should be in my office."

Some people deserved a certain level of respect; a certain level of consideration, if you will. Sterling was not some people.

If you looked up the definition of a liar in the dictionary, it would have a picture of Sterling's face in there.

"What exactly do you have against me?" Sterling asked with his signature smile—the one he used when convincing people they were in good hands. I liked to call it his conniver smile.

"Besides the fact that you're always trying to undercut my business? Or that you lie to your clients? Or is it the part where you're unreliable?"

"Well now, you're just hurting my feelings." He laid a hand against his wide chest. "But I'm not here to talk about our longstanding friendship."

I snorted. "It wasn't even short standing."

"You were asleep in the car when we met at the bank yesterday." Sterling leaned forward, reminding me of a predator circling its kill.

Ah, yes. It was the night I slept in my car. Having never slept in my car before, I’d assumed it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d never been so wrong. Sleeping in my car was the worst sleep I'd gotten in my life. Sounds seemed to be amplified. The seat was remarkably uncomfortable, and lights from passing cars kept strobing through my windows.

"Yes, it's called power napping. You should try it someday. It might improve your personality."

Sterling rubbed a hand against his jaw. "No, that's not it. I think you're in trouble."

If he found out I was homeless, I'd be in big trouble. He would spread the news as quickly as possible. Like the virus he was.

I didn't answer him. I simply folded my hands together and rested them on my desk as I leveled a steady glare at him. It was best not to jump in with explanations that would land me in even deeper trouble.

"Bartholomew, I know the truth," Sterling said as he studied me from beneath his bushy eyebrows.

I kept leaning on my desk, careful to not change my expression. It was a morbid little game Sterling liked to play, "Get a rise out of Bane Fox."

Only the slight twitch of Sterling’s lips showed his irritation at my lack of reaction.

"Running this office is too much for you. You need a partner. A mentor. Someone who could take this stress off your shoulders. Someone like me, who could take the lead."

So he hadn't heard that I was homeless. He was simply up to his old tricks—trying to buy my real estate office out from under me. Not a chance. I'd scraped and saved to get to this point. I would not let someone with Sterling's reputation move in and ruin everything for me and the other real estate agents in my office.

"You know, I'm going to have to think about that long and hard, or I could save us both some time, and give you the answer I know I'll come up with. No. You're not welcome here as a partner, or an employee."

"Fox, you're pretty uppity for someone so young." Sterling's voice dropped lower as he spoke. "Everyone has a price, and I'm good at finding that price."

With those parting words, he stood and left the room. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I watched him through the large bay windows as he left the office building and climbed into his car. Watching him leave always felt like a miniature vacation to me. The sense of relief that washed over me whenever I was not in that man's presence was comparable to a tropical beach.

I’d opened my own real estate office just last year. With the near housing crisis in Oregon, it had been the perfect time to do so. However, it had taken everything I had to get it started. Opening a business on a cash basis was incredibly difficult in a credit society.

At fourteen years old, I made a promise to myself. Pay cash for everything possible. So far, I’d held firm to that promise. I paid for my cars with cash. I had no debt of any kind. I opened my real estate office on a strictly cash basis.

Now, I was ready to buy a house with cash. Even though I had a great year and earned a record number of commissions, it was hard to tell when I would be able to buy. It would depend on which houses went to auction.

I didn't doubt Sterling’s zeal to buy the office. What he