Get this—Betel bought the place and then wrote her a check for fifty grand to renovate
it on her own, and she ripped it up on the spot.”
“The lady
probably has money of her own.”
“I don’t think so.
Actually, Betel asked me to keep an eye on her. He said she almost drowned recently and
now he thinks she’s going nuts.”
“And in that house, going nuts will happen sooner rather
than later,” Doug snickered.
“Who cares? I got what I wanted
and Betel gave her what she wanted just to keep the peace. That’s why the deal was so quick.”
“I’m sure you’ll be paying her a
few visits, like the last gal you sold a house to.” Doug knew how well his
brother liked acting the hero to beautiful damsels in distress.
Over my dead body, Norman mumbled as he stood up to leave the
office. He smoothed
back his hair, rolled down his shirtsleeves, and reached for his sports jacket,
flinging it across one shoulder.
Norman was mulling over Mrs.
Betel’s response when he had questioned how she could afford to repair the
house on her own. To reject fifty thousand dollars was crazy, but not half as
crazy as her glib pronouncement, the
house will take care of everything.
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