Hollywood Hills

Chapter Thirty-Five

It was like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Kate walked gracefully from the closing on her beach property but wanted to run, skip, hop, and jump to her truck. Two weeks before, a buyer had come forward for the Malibu property and agreed to her asking price in full. It was yet another cash offer, and the sale closed that quickly. In the high-end world of West Coast real estate transactions, things sometimes went apace—folks in the rarefied air of Malibu often paid cash—but even her listing agent was startled at how quickly and flawlessly things had gone.

The buyer even had foregone the inspection process, which suggested they merely wanted the land to tear down the house and throw up something new. Despite her affection for the place, Kate didn't mind. She simply was grateful Otto some year before had deeded her the property, which he'd inherited unencumbered from his father.

Of course, it'd seemed obvious over the last year that the transfer had been to shelter the property from his many creditors, but on second thought, perhaps it'd been his way of ensuring her future in a turbulent world? That charitable notion was one of many that had come to her recently, thoughts that suggested her late husband deserved less of her scorn and more of her gratitude.

Either way, the transfer had meant Otto had not been able to borrow against the place to fund one of his many schemes (at least not without her signature) and had the added benefit of keeping the house out of probate and consequently out of the reach of her stepchildren, who thought of the place as their own. So, she walked away with the proceeds of the sale free and clear.

She was solvent.

At that very moment, her focus was less on money and more on seeing her best friend and celebrating with an early dinner at the same restaurant where they'd first dined. In traffic, it took her about forty-five minutes to arrive and park, but the elation hadn't worn off by the time she found Eli waiting patiently outside. It was well before regular dinner hours, and there was no wait to be seated.

"You look awfully happy," was his first comment when they sat. He already had greeted her and complimented her beauty—it was some corny quip about how great-wealth brought out the glow in her cheeks. But it was nice.

"I am the happiest woman in the world right now."

"So, you're buying?"

"Of course, I am ... but don't get used to it. The rich stay rich by being thrifty." It was the model her parents had set for her. Most of the money from the sale would go into a trust to support her new home, to cover property tax, insurance, upkeep, and the like, and to fund her future health-care and old age. She would still have to find work and stay busy, but for that she was grateful.

"It's so good to see you," he suddenly exclaimed.

She seldom saw the controlled Eli effuse the way normal folk did, and it startled her. It had been almost three weeks, and their schedules simply hadn't aligned. Between the beach-house closing and the house in the Hills, which looked to close in a week, her life was a frantic mess of plans, meetings, signings, and lawyers, not to mention her ongoing and sometimes fruitful efforts to find employment.

Eli, for his part, was out of the city several times unexpectedly and was otherwise busy with his own projects and plans.

All she could think of now was breathing and enjoying the moment, especially the realization that her friend appeared to have missed her far more than she'd ever imagined he would. She leaned over the table and kissed his left cheek. Then she spilled the details and answered his questions about the housing situation.