Chapter 6 - The Property Inspection
Two days later, the morning sun broke over the Malibu cliffs in a brilliant wash of amber and gold.
True to our word, Eli, Zoe, and I woke up before dawn, grabbed our newly constructed wooden sailboat—dubbed The Star Voyager II with purple and silver canvas sails—and walked down the private cliffside wooden staircase to the secluded cove below.
The water was cool, crisp, and completely glass-smooth.
Eli carefully set the boat down in the shallows, holding his breath as a gentle morning tide caught the hull. The dual masts caught the offshore breeze, and The Star Voyager II glided gracefully across the water, cutting a clean, perfect line through the ripples.
Zoe shrieked with pure joy, clapping her hands. “Look, Daddy! It’s sailing! It’s really sailing!”
Eli’s face lit up with a brilliant, triumphant smile that I hadn't seen in months. He looked at me, his eyes shining with pride. “We did it, Dad.”
“We did it together, partner,” I smiled, pulling him into a quick, fierce hug.
Later that morning, as we walked back up the cliffside path carrying our triumphant vessel, Lisa Vance was waiting for us on the front porch, accompanied by a man in a sharp grey suit holding a heavy leather briefcase.
“Good morning, Dr. Mercer, kids,” Lisa called out brightly, walking down the steps to meet us. “I hope I’m not interrupting family bonding time.”
“Not at all, Lisa,” I said, setting the boat carefully by the front door. “What brings you out here so early?”
Lisa gestured to the man in the grey suit. “This is Arthur Sterling’s lead acquisitions attorney, Mr. Henderson. Mr. Sterling loved the property, reviewed the structural reports, and decided he didn't want to mess around with a standard bidding process.”
Mr. Henderson stepped forward, opening his leather briefcase and pulling out a pristine, legal-bound document package. He offered a polite, professional smile.
“Dr. Mercer, Mr. Sterling is prepared to offer a full all-cash buyout at one million two hundred and fifty thousand dollars—three hundred thousand over your original purchase price—with a forty-eight-hour escrow closing and zero contingency clauses,” Mr. Henderson stated clearly. “He wants the property as-is, fully furnished.”
I stood still for a moment, listening to the gentle crash of the waves below.
One million two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It was an astronomical return on investment. It would pad my savings account, eliminate any lingering financial anxiety, and allow me to buy an even larger estate further up the coast.
I looked down at Eli and Zoe, who were quietly whispering to each other, examining the sails of their repaired boat.
Then I looked back at the attorney and the realtor.
“Mr. Henderson,” I said quietly.
“Yes, Dr. Mercer?”
“Tell Mr. Sterling that the Malibu cottage is no longer for sale.”
Lisa Vance’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. “Daryl... are you out of your mind? That’s a three-hundred-thousand-dollar premium over market value! Why would you turn down a cash offer like that?”
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I smiled softly, resting a hand on Eli’s shoulder.
“Because some things,” I said, looking out over the Pacific horizon, “can’t be measured on a balance sheet.”
