“So,” Gina finally managed. “How are you?”
“I’m Ok,” Becky replied, not feeling it but not knowing what else to say. Gina was shuffling around at papers on the desk, clearing her throat and looking generally flustered. She clearly had something to say and her hesitation was making Becky so nervous she wanted to grab the woman and shake the words out, but finally they came without her help.
“I guess I’m not as good at this sort of thing as I thought,” said Gina. “Here, I want you to look at something.”
Becky reached forward and took the offering, a glossy photograph of a cozy looking, creeper-clad cottage in yellow stone, standing alone amongst greenery.
“It’s nice. What is it?” Becky asked.
“It is a former gate house on the edge of the Ashby estate lands. I did own it but now it bel
