Chapter Fourteen
Room Service
Rosalie
didn’t know what to make of George Tackett. He was the cleanest-cut person
she’d met since moving to New Mexico, his hair slicked and his collar pressed
precisely. Perhaps Rosalie was still peeved about the interactions she’d had
with the male real estate agents she’d contacted who called her sweetheart
and made her feel incompetent. But George was polite and formal, his smile
professional, the handshake of his soft hands firm but unthreatening.
She’d agreed
to take a meeting with him at Alex’s urging. Alex had stressed that Rosalie
needed to know her options for the Cocheta property
and that she was under no obligation to make any decisions.
“Good
afternoon, Miss Campbell,” George said, standing and greeting her as she
approached his ta
