"The house came furnished and I just arrived this evening."
"Ah, a brand new house squatter."
"I am not living here rent free. I have no idea why you would think that of me."
He scanned her grease and food-stained clothes. "Ah, yes. The Remington Family Fry Shack."
"Didn't you notice my car in the driveway?"
"I thought someone was just taking advantage of an empty house-and empty driveway."
"You need to leave, or haven't I made myself clear enough? I'm renting this house. Legally. I paid first and last month's rent and a deposit."
He raised his eyebrows and cocked his chin, looking suddenly very adorable. Iva shook her head to clear her brain.
"You paid rent?" he echoed.
"Now that's very interesting. May I borrow your phone?"
He began to walk forward and Iva raised her weapon once more.
"Stay where you are. I know that trick."
"I assure you I am not playing tricks on you. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm just as surprised as you are. But it's all beginning to make sense now. Did you sign a lease with Vancouver Realty?"
"I most certainly did. The house is mine"
He shook his head, smiling broadly now.
"No, actually, the house is mine."
"Dear Lord in heaven, you are annoying. And you may not use my phone."
"Okay, fine, I understand. I was just trying to avoid walking back down to my car. My car that's parked right behind yours in
the driveway."
Cautiously, Iva peered out through the lace curtains, feeling like she was in a spy movie. Sure enough, there was a brand new BMW parked right behind her five-year-old Pontiac with the slight dent from the parking garage in Toronto. A hit and run.
She fought down a surge of panic. Her escape vehicle was blocked. Wiping perspiration from her eyes, Iva punched the buttons on her mobile again to bring up the screen.
The man came two steps closer, making Iva dizzy. "I'm going downstairs now," he said. "Will you also please call the emergency number at Vancouver Realty? Talk to Britney Willis and tell her I'm here."
He strode out the door, heading downstairs.
"Wait a minute!" Iva screeched. "How do you know Britney Willis is at the realtor's office? Who are you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I actually meant to, but our conversation turned a little confusing."
"I don't have conversations with strange men who barge into my bathroom unannounced and uninvited," Iva said icily, shaking the wrench in a threatening manner so he would know that she was royally pissed and terrorized.
"You're right. Of course you're right, Miss Remington, and I profusely apologize. It will never happen again. But we do have
a problem here." He proceeded downstairs while Iva muttered, "A problem? You got that right, buddy."
She slammed the bedroom door shut and locked it. Then she snatched up her lease papers and called the after-hours number for the realtor. After speaking with an emergency operator she left her number for Britney Willis, who returned the call with ten minutes.