“You’re going to love this place, Mr. and Mrs. Rexon. It has two Olympic sized pools, one inside and one outside. There are seven hundred eighty bedroom suites, one hundred offices, eighty bathrooms, twenty dining rooms, four kitchens, and a ballroom. The master bedroom has a bowling alley sized walk in closet.”
Gordon Crestwell held his breath as the tobacco chewing trillionaire surveyed the property. The Texan’s wife stood next to him popping gum like a porn star tramp. They were new money, trash, but he needed the commission from this sale to pay off his gambling debts. So far none of the places he’d shown them were big enough and he was beginning to wonder if anything would be. Gordon’s cheeks ached from his plastered on smile. This was the last place on his list.
Mr. Rexton wrinkled his face. “I don’t know, Gordon. Everyone we talked to said you were the best realtor, but I really don’t think you understand what we’re looking for. This place is big and all, but not Texas big.”
Gordon wanted to spit in the man’s face. He was sick of the Texas thing. “This estate is bigger than Buckingham Palace. Even the queen of England doesn’t have better accommodations.”
“That’s just it. It’s huge, lavish, just like all the other places, but none of them have the right kind of housing for Snookum’s pets.”
“But you haven’t seen the stable. It’ll hold an entire herd of horses and cows. It’s beautiful. Just follow me.”
Gordon walked around the house before the Texan could object. His life depended on this sale. The couple looked at the fancy marble stable with its intricate relief sculptures. Gordon’s stomach twisted when he saw the look on their faces, especially the puckered lips on Rexton’s trampy wife.
“Sorry, Gordon, but this place just isn’t right. Snookum worked hard on her genetic creations. The herd of unicorns might like all that fancy stuff, but those doors just aren’t going to fit her flight of dragons.”