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like to talk with someone about listing my home. That is, if I can find a home that I like better.”
      “You’ve come to the right place,” the woman said. Elizabeth could barely make out a smile – at least she could see teeth. “Mr. Antonella will be happy to discuss your options with you.”
      She stood and Elizabeth followed. It wasn’t just her eyes, she realized. It was decidedly dark in here.
      The woman led Elizabeth into a small cubicle. “Mr. Antonella, Miss, oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to get your name.”
      “Morris, Elizabeth Morris,” Elizabeth said.
      “Please, sit,” Mr. Antonella gestured to an over-stuffed chair on the opposite side of his desk.
      Elizabeth sat and the receptionist left. She looked at the man on the other side of the desk. Her eyes had finally adjusted to the dim lighting and she saw before her the most physically gorgeous man she’d ever been this close to in her life. His large dark eyes were complimented by black sweeping eyebrows, so precise they were almost too perfect. A few locks of dark, thick, shining hair spilled over his high, smooth forehead. His cheekbones and jaw were chiseled, a perfect setting for that full-lipped mouth, the aquiline nose, the incredible eyes. Even his after-shave was evocative. Of what, Elizabeth wasn’t quite certain. But it made her strangely, and somewhat uncomfortably, aware of herself.
      What was someone who looked – and smelled – like this doing in a little, nondescript, neighborhood real estate office? Probably making a lot more money than waiting to become famous in Hollywood, she thought.
      “What can I do for you, Miss Morris?” his intense dark eyes checked her out as if he found her very interesting. Which she doubted.
      “I... I have a home... nearby...” she stuttered shyly. “I’d like to get an estimate on it. And I’d like to see what’s available at The Lakes . I’d like to find a place right on the lake.”
      “We can do that,” he leaned back and steepled his fingers. “But if you have a house in this neighborhood and you want to move to The Lakes ... how much equity do you have in your place?”
      “Equity? I own it, it’s mine.”
      “It’s paid off?”
      “Yes.”
      He leaned forward, interested again. “Well, then, maybe we’ve got something we can work with.”
      “Oh, yes, I think so,” Elizabeth answered. She hadn’t been prepared for this stranger’s preconceived prejudice about the ‘neighborhood.’
      “I’m not particularly busy right now,” Mr Antonella said, shuffling papers together. “Shall we go check your place out?”
      “Well... “ Elizabeth hesitated. “I’d really prefer to have an idea about what’s available before I start thinking about selling my place. After all, if I can’t find something I like more, I’ll stay put.”
      “Oh, there’s always something available.” He held up the massive multiple listing. “In all these thousands of listings there’s got to be something you’ll just love.” There was an odd flatness to his tone. He’d clearly said this line many times.
      “No,” Elizabeth answered firmly, standing her ground, “not if there isn’t anything on the lake in The Lakes .”
      A tight look came around the agent’s eyes. “First things first, Miss Morris. Okay? I need to see what kind of buying power we’re talking about before I spend time going through the multiple. Okay?”
      Elizabeth did not like his tone. She almost got up and walked out. She gave him a studied look, and, as she watched, a whole softening, chameleon change came over his features. “Shall we go?”
      Elizabeth stood and walked out of the office wondering why she felt as though she were working for this man instead of the other way around.
      Mr. Antonella led Elizabeth out the back door to a red Corvette in the parking lot. He opened the passenger door and she folded herself into the seat.
      He got in and started the