Echo

her mouth shut. Between the three mansions on pricey Bird Key, the sixty four foot Bertram motor yacht, included by one of the sellers, and her fee for coordinating the furnishing of the homes with one of the top designers from Kane’s of Sarasota, her purchase would come to sixty three million dollars; to close in thirty days. Nice.
    But what did an unsophisticated, single young woman need with these properties? It sure appeared suspicious to her. During her previous appointments with the attorney, he failed to reveal who he represented. Now, after spending two days together, she knew. But the purchaser revealed very little. And what is with the constant sunglasses? The girl never takes them off. Like never. Maybe she should keep an eye on Miss Abby. Wouldn’t want any harm to come to her elite community, now would she? Sylvia sniffed, thinking Miss Abby better watch her step if she thought she could break into Sarasota society just because of her flashy new money.
    The size of the purchase certainly will be commented on in the real estate section of Sarasota Today . Everyone in town will be dying of curiosity. Preening, Sylvia realized she would receive reflected glory being the realtor of record. She could sure use a status bump at the country club. Maybe she should be a tad more generous toward the poor girl. Picking up her cell, she dialed her husband. She felt like celebrating tonight. Asking him to call Michaels on First for reservations, she looked forward to an icy cold martini at her favorite restaurant.
    ###
    Returning to their hotels, Peter dropped Abby off first. His hotel sat just a half mile away, closer to the marina. Working feverishly on his new client’s affairs, he hadn’t spent much time thinking about the ramifications of this momentous move or his own future. He loved seeing the world outside the small confines of Sussex. He knew Tiffany would love it along with the new clients. His fondness for Abby and Jose continued to grow. It was clear how Abby referred to Jose that they were in love. He wished them well but it made him feel lonely. Perhaps when they settled into their new homes he might try to date.
    He started to wilt in the late afternoon sun, his shirt sticking to his back. He decided to try to adopt a more informal dress. Although he wore them as armor, business suits apparently weren’t necessary in the warm climate. Rolling up the sleeves of his no longer crisp white shirt, he entered his hotel. He passed the glamorous pricey shops, available to only the wealthy, the acquisition of their wares, now within his means. Who was he kidding? He wore thrift on his soul like a clown wore makeup on his face. Remove the makeup, is the clown really there? Remove the dressing from his soul, is Peter really there?
    He sighed over the burden of his personal insecurities. He would just have to find a more inexpensive place to shop.
    Entering his room, he turned on the shower in his sumptuous bathroom, the marble unlike anything he had ever seen until Sylvia Wadsworth introduced them to the finest side of Sarasota real estate. Tomorrow will prove the wisdom of his advice to move. Jose and Scotty will arrive late this evening. They planned to meet first thing in the morning to go look at Abby’s choice of homes. By the end of the day he hoped he could maneuver them to a quiet location for a talk. He planned to ask some pressing questions that anxiously nagged him. His job description prevented him from questioning the motives or private business of his clients, yet he couldn’t dismiss the nagging premonition that something mystical permeated his clients. He allowed this phenomenal opportunity to overwhelm his life. Because of this momentous change, he felt the right to ask some questions. He longed to avoid confrontation; yet the clearly unexpected and curious wealth of his clients, begged questions. He hoped his interest would not cast him in a venal light. He wanted their relationships to flourish on a more fiduciary, affectionate level. He enjoyed their confidence but clearly felt an invisible wall of some sort.
    And what’s behind the infernal sunglasses? Running his chubby fingers through his thinning sandy hair, he realized he didn’t believe the congenital eye infection story. It’s very disconcerting to talk to someone and never see their eyes. Except the one time Abby slipped them off for him. Reflecting on the sudden surprise of their slightly unusual golden quality, he made the