I claim editing errors for myself. Started as a flash story, then grew, so there may be some flaws I missed. If you have read any of my writing, you know what to expect. If you haven't, well, hope you enjoy it all the same.
*
"I think I should get home. The trick-or-treaters will be coming around soon, and I don't want to be late." Her statement was a bit of lie, he knew; the younger kids had gone out this afternoon and did their begging form five until dark. She had already missed that window of opportunity. Older teens went from darkness until around nine, and he really doubted that she gave a shit about them. It was almost nine now.
The 'she' in question was Bernadette Jenkins, a buxom raven-haired beauty fifteen years his senior. Age had never really mattered to him when it came to women or property. Both were there for the taking. Eric Johnson was trying to make the best of the situation. For two weeks now he had been using his normally tried and true full court press to get into Bernadette's portfolio as well as her panties. Lunch dates to discuss the potential sale of her ocean front property had gone nowhere and, until tonight, she wouldn't see him after dark. He did his best work after dark.
She was in somewhat dire straits financially. She was having problems with supplies for her online business and had thought about selling the house despite it being in her house for generations. Once he had that wedge, Eric pressed the point, explaining how the sale of the house could eliminate her monetary concerns. His initial probing had also revealed that she had a boyfriend, a fact which had never deterred him before. Especially not with this much money on the line.
And now he had done it. Finally gotten a dinner date to 'discuss further options, one way or another', and somehow screwed it up. Maybe too much wine for her, or too much scotch for him. Just what, 'it' was he did not know, but she was suddenly distant. As he fished out his wallet to pay the bill, he tried his patented charm once again. "I'll get the car-" he started.
"No, that's okay." He was getting tired of those words from her. "My property actually abuts the restaurant parking lot, so it's actually quicker if I walk."
"Those boots don't look like they were made for walking long distances," he commented. He nodded in response and walked her out to the parking lot. "Look, Bernadette, about what I said back there..."
"It's not you, Eric. Well, maybe it is. I wasn't... I'm not looking for a romantic relationship. I'm very happy in the one I have. I'm just looking for a way to survive, and I thought about... well, I need to do what I need to do. I think now that putting that sign up in my yard may have been a bit premature. I had a few nibbles, but after talking to you I've realtors calling me with offers morning, noon, and night. You must have let it slip that I was thinking of selling through a reality, and word got out. Now I'm getting so many calls at the house that I had to take the phone off the hook. I think you talk too much."
He knew exactly who was to blame. Fucking Daryl, Eric thought. He must have been eavesdropping again and spread the word. Now all the sharks were circling, despite the care Eric had taken to keep the relationship quiet. Perhaps if this night had gone better, his charm could have worked.
He smiled to himself that she had been upset about the realty comments, and not the innuendos had had been dropping about her body. The sweater. The skirt. Her lips. His cock.
Did she ever wear the boots when she had sex? The scotch had loosened his tongue, surely, but she hadn't shut down that topic.
Eric stopped at his car and grabbed a beach blanket he carried in the trunk. "Any chance I would walk you back, then? Maybe sit and listen to the waves crash? It is a full moon tonight, and I wouldn't want you attacked by any werewolves on my watch."
"A full moon hidden by clouds; you mean." She gave him one of her rare smiles. "I guess so. Just to be safe from the werewolves, should the moon come out. Ghosts and vampires too, I hope. It is Halloween, after all."
"From all manner of beast, I promise."
Eric got a chance to admire her figure once again as she walked before him on the narrow path. Snug black skirt with an oversized sweater, black nylons and knee-high leather boots. With her hair as black as it was, it was all he could do keep her in sight in the darkness. The sandy path would occasionally widen, allowing him the chance to walk beside her, if it could be called walking, but his attempts at conversations were quickly rebuffed. It was more like meandering; she kept stopping to look at the rocks or plants that dotted the bluffs.
"I have to tell you, you have me a little worried with all this talk of other realtors," he finally said, pushing her talk even if she did not want to. "I'd hoped that we had something more than a realtor-client relationship."
As if on cue, the moon escaped the clouds, lighting up the clearing they had just stepped into.
"We might be friends, I guess," she said tentatively, "but I don't even know if I want to sell. Must we constantly talk about my house?
"You see those trees over there? Those are Devil's Apples. Not good for much, but they are exceedingly rare, and worth a lot to the right person. They had to be cultivated, you know. The fruit has no seeds. Same with that one, there. Midnight Mint. Those little green leaves on the plant can be crushed to make a tea to bring down fevers and increase blood circulation. I think it was the inspiration for Viagra. And this sand, well, you would think that it couldn't grow anything more than apples and tea, and it can't, but it feels really good between your bare toes. It's much finer than normal coastal sand; almost a powder." She sighed.
"I could make sure this all gets preserved after you sell. A special garden sanctuary. If you want."
"I guess I'm not sure I am ready to give this all up after all. Maybe I should take the offer from the conservation place and go back to farming it. But you just keep pushing, don't you?"
"Then I will stop trying to convince you to," Eric lied. She was almost ready to give the entire estate up for seven hundred thousand when, developed properly, it could be worth tens of millions. "What would it take for me to reassure you?"
She tilted her head and gave him a grin. "I don't know..."
"How about a kiss?" His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her in. He could smell the wine on her breath as his lips touched hers."
