Knit Two Together

"Of course I want to sell the yarn shop. It's just that--" Libby Cartwright would have liked to continue her phone conversation, but at that moment she noticed a man standing outside her office door. He was holding a clipboard that con-tained an official-looking form, and something told her she was going to need two free hands, so she mumbled an excuse to the real-estate agent on the other end of the line. She propped the phone between her ear and her shoulder and motioned for the man to come in. She accepted the clipboard and pen he handed her, and when she scrawled her name and the title Office Manager on the line above where it read Responsible party, her hands didn't even tremble. At least not too much. While the man tore off one sheet of the form she'd just signed, dropped it on her desk and backed out of her office, she returned to her conversation. "I told you, Mr. Harper, getting rid of the knitting shop has been priority number one ever since I found out about the inheritance." The noise of a scrape and bump from out in the hallway attracted her attention, and Libby glanced out her door to where two men struggled to haul away the just-delivered printer/fax/copier she had ordered three months earlier. With everything else that was happening at Cart-wright, Remington and Hawes, no one in the office had even had a chance to read the how-to manual, much less learn to operate the behemoth. The equipment was unused. Practically untouched. And far easier to return because of it. "I hear what you're saying, Mrs. Cartwright." The sound of Will Harper's voice drew Libby's attention away from the commotion in the hallway. "But what you're saying and what you're doing sound like two different things to me." "What I'm saying is that I want to sell the yarn shop. What I'm doing, " Libby drummed her fingers against the windowsill. What she was doing was hesitating, plain and simple. She twitched her shoulders to get rid of the thought, scolding herself as she did. By now she should have known better--there were some things she couldn't so easily shake. "I have no intention of ever reopening the shop," she told Will and reminded herself. "I don't want to run it. For one thing, the shop is in Cleveland and I live in Pittsburgh." "Which is exactly why you should be up on your desk doing the happy dance right about now." She heard the click of his cigarette lighter and his quick intake of breath. "Tip-Top is all over the West and they claim they're going to own the drugstore market in Ohio, too, in just a few years. Lucky for you, they want to start in Cleveland and they're not looking for some pristine parcel out in the burbs. They want an established neighborhood and they're willing to raze a city block to build one of their stores. Your mother's property isn't the only one they're looking at, remember. We need to jump on this as quickly as we can. The offer they're making, well, honestly, as I told you before, I don't think you'll ever do any better." "They're lowballing me." Were they? Libby wasn't sure. In the two years since she'd taken over the job of office manager for the law firm, she'd discovered that she was a whiz at scheduling, a crackerjack manager of people and something of a genius when it came to finding the best prices on supplies and equipment. But real estate was a whole new ball game. Still, talking money seemed like the appropriate thing to do at this stage. As for balking at the price, wasn't that what real-estate deals were all about? Besides, it was a plausible excuse for her hesitation. And a better comeback than the truth. The knit shop is the only thing I have--the only thing I've ever had--from my mother. Once I sell, it means I'm severing this one last tie and quitting. For good. Forever. "Mrs. Cartwright? Don't you agree?" Libby snapped out of her thoughts. "I'm sorry. This cLane, Connie is the author of 'Knit Two Together ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373881307 and ISBN 0373881304.