AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s a job?”
“That’s a job.”
“I serve burgers for tips. You’re telling me I could just tell rich guys how to spend their money and they’ll pay me for it?”
“Yup,” he says.
“Damn. Where did I go wrong?”
Carter laughs. “There’s a little more to it than that.”
“I figured.”
“Mostly, it’s travel. They come to me with a building or a type of property they want to acquire. Then, I go to it or I find one like it that would suit their needs and I determine what it’s worth. Sometimes, if they don’t like that number, I’ll do some digging and find ways to lower it.”
“Lower it how?” I ask.
Carter pauses, as if he doesn’t want to answer. “Every place is different,” he says.
I note the change in his tone and decide to swallow my follow-up questions. “Getting to travel sounds nice, though.”
“I do like the travel,” Carter says. “Every day is a new place, sometimes a new climate. No sunrise is ever the same.”
“Where are you from originally?” I ask.
“Upstate New York. But I haven’t been back there in... five years? I barely even remember my permanent address anymore, come to think.”
“You sound like a hard guy to get a hold of,” I joke.
He chuckles. “Been talking to my mother, have you?”
I laugh. “Why don’t you ever go back?” Then I shake my head. “Actually, that might be too personal of a question. Sorry I asked.”
“No, no,” Carter says. “It’s not. There’s no horrible reason for it. I just...” He pauses for a moment. “It never felt like home to me. I grew up there, sure, but I’ve always had a feeling that I’m meant to be somewhere else. I just have to find it first.”
I nod. “All the travel is good for you, then.”
“Right,” he says. “That meeting today in Big City — if it went well — was supposed to set me up for a while.”
“In Small Town?”
“No, Big City probably. Some billionaire up there wants to expand his portfolio. That usually means I’ve got my work cut out for me for a few months, at least.”
“Well, the waitresses of Bruno’s Diner will be absolutely devastated.”
He laughs. “I doubt I’m supposed to end up here.”
“Who knows? Maybe your car was always meant to break down here.”
Carter shakes his head, but doesn’t reply.
We sink into a comfortable silence as we round the square. I point down the roads, noting landmarks and buildings. The public library. The high school. Carter listens and watches with tepid fascination, with smiles and clever jokes when needed.
When we swing back to the inn, he points at the house next door. “Is that part of the inn?” he asks.
“Not technically,” I answer. “That’s my father’s house. It’s where I grew up.”
“It’s nice.”
