Kincaid stayed frozen to the spot. Something was beating at the walls of her brain, her heart pounding against her temples. She listened as the couple exclaimed over how great the kitchen would be if converted to an industrial look.

Industrial. Deep breaths.

“Kincaid.” Liv put a hand on her arm. “Are you all right? Your cheeks are all flushed.”

Kincaid pressed her lips together, her eyes still focused in the direction of the kitchen. She had trouble pinpointing the emotions coursing through her. Anger was one. But the other one felt like…loss. Like this was her house those people were tromping through. Her dreams they were traipsing upon.

“Are you worried you’re going to lose the sale?” Liv asked. “Should you call your client? Maybe she can move fast if she loves it. I can send the pics to her as soon as I get to a laptop if she can’t make it out here quickly enough.”

“This house is not for them,” Kincaid declared.

“I agree,” Liv said with a nod. “I love modern, but this is not the house for that. Even if they had a good vision for it, I wouldn’t want that horrible woman to make the commission. Call your client.”

Kincaid shook her head. “It’s not for my client either. She won’t understand it.”

Liv’s brow wrinkled. “Understand what?”

Kincaid spread her arms out. “That it’s already beautiful and just needs some help getting back to its glory, not to become something else entirely. Why is the world so obsessed with making things into what they’re not?”

Liv frowned. “Well, does it really matter what someone does to it as long as you’re the one getting the sale? That’s the main point, right? Sell the house. Make the money.”

That should be the main point. Kincaid needed this sale if she wanted to keep her gig at the agency.

“Oh, sweetheart. I think this is the one,” the woman client said somewhere in the distance. “We should snatch this one up before anyone else can.”

Valerie made a gleeful sound. “I think that is an excellent idea. You have brilliant taste. Let’s talk offer.”

Liv gave her a panicked look. “Oh shit. They’re going to buy. Call your client, Kincaid.”

Kincaid pulled her phone from her purse and dialed Ferris.

He answered on the first ring, the sounds of a keyboard clacking in the background. “Talk to me, gorgeous. Tell me you’re going to make us both money.”

Kincaid wet her lips. “I have an offer on the farmhouse.”

“That’s fantastic. You’re an angel.” The typing stopped. “Bethany’s putting in an offer?”

“No,” Kincaid said, her throat tightening. “I am. Full price if they take the offer without waiting for others.”

“You?” he asked, concern filling his voice. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You know how dangerous it can be to get heart eyes for a new property. Believe me, I’ve been there. That’s a lot of money you’d need to come up with. Maybe you should take some time—”