by T. J. LONG
After the viewing, I send in my good faith deposit so I can hold the house. Sarah says she already has a trusted home inspector that she uses, and when I ask the time frame, she let’s me know, with an all-cash offer, I could very well have the keys to the house in 14 days.
Thankfully, the inspection goes well, and I receive an email with a small list of findings. Two of the windows need to be replaced and the water heater reservoir tank is waterlogged, requiring a new unit to be installed. Other than that, things look great. The seller has agreed to take care of all costs associated with the inspector’s findings. I’m sure my cash and desire for a quick turnaround is making them more agreeable.
***
Sarah makes a point to check in every day and let me know where we are in the process. I know I’ll be closing within the next week, which is crazy. Sarah has made this move effortless. She even made plans to have my car shipped to California last week, which is scheduled to be delivered the day I arrive. I would have been lost without her help. She's definitely gone above and beyond her duties to help me get my shit together.
Sarah: 7 more days
Me: I know. I can’t believe it.
Sarah: Have you started packing?
Me: Not exactly lol
Sarah: Oh my gosh
Me: I know. I’m a procrastinator, apparently.
Sarah: Get it done! Btw when you get in on Thursday, I’m treating you to dinner and a drink.
My head cocks to the side. Is she flirting with me? Without hearing her tone I can’t tell if she’s being friendly or flirtatious.
Me: You want to treat me to dinner?
Sarah: Of course.
Me: Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Afterall, you are the one saving my ass.
Sarah: My treat.
Me: Do you do that with all of your clients?
Sarah: Not exactly. But you're very attractive and we are both single, so I thought….
Damn, she is hitting on me. She’s an attractive girl. The opposite of Julia in most ways, with olive skin, dark brown hair, and hazel eyes. I wasn't actively trying to notice her body, but on a few occasions when the phone panned down during our FaceTime viewing, I got a view of her chest and… yeah, she was stacked. Her flirtations are tempting.
I’m sure she could get any guy she wants, but I am not ready to date anyone and I’d like to leave my douchebag ways behind. Plus, she is my cousin’s friend. So I shouldn’t risk leading her on with a casual fuck.
Me: As much as I’d like to say yes, I must decline that invitation.
Sarah: Seriously?
Me: I’m just trying to focus on myself.
Sarah: I understand that. Well, we can still be friends.
Then she sends me a wink face emoji. I think she's alluding to a friends with benefits relationship.
Fuck, this woman is going to test my willpower. She's offering herself up to me with no strings attached. I have to end this flirtation before I see her at the final walk through and closing. I must keep things professional, for her sake, my sake, and for Carli’s sake.
Me: Just friends? I’m cool with that.
She doesn't write back and I wonder if I have offended her.
I turn my attention away from my tempestuous realtor and toward the thing I have been trying to avoid for as long as possible: sorting through my clothing. It’s about time I stop stalling.
I throw open my closet doors and attempt to formulate a plan. I definitely don’t need to bring sweaters and coats with me, right? I pause to consider the weather in my new city and how much of my wardrobe will need replacing. I decide to pack it all, just in case.
As I’m pulling shirts from my drawer, I come across a picture of me and Julia when we first started dating. I don't know how it made its way in here, but damn, finding it when I'm preparing for my new life sucks. I feel a flutter in my chest and my throat throbs with my quickening pulse. I stare through the picture and daydream about how differently things could have turned out. It could've been us moving to California, together.
I take my lip in my mouth and bite down, hard. My eyes close and I take a deep calming breath. “I need to get over this,” I say to myself and try to shake the negativity out of my system.
I get up from my spot on the floor, walk to the trash, and push my foot down on the pedal until the lid pops open. I drop the picture in and walk away. Then I start pulling clothes from their hangers and dumping them in the open suitcases I’ve laid out on the floor.
Once the closet is finished, the head rush of having another task completed carries me throughout the rest of the apartment as I pack up the rest of the shit I am taking with me and get it ready for the movers to pick up and ship. Since I’m not listing this place yet, I’m going to leave the furniture. The California house will get all new everything. I think that'll help me move forward, anyway. Julia helped pick out a lot of the furniture, and Mark and I spent many Sundays on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, playing Playstation, so if i’m starting new, I should do it right.
***
The sun is scorching as I wait outside LAX. I bring my hand to my face to block the light. Good job on not buying sunglasses, idiot. I take my phone from my pocket and open the Uber app. It’s already eleven and I need to be at the house by twelve thirty to meet Sarah so we can do the final walk through and then head to the office to finalize the paperwork and get my keys. I impatiently keep checking the time on my phone. I’ve heard California traffic is bad, so I hope I make it on time. I still have to get to the hotel, shower, change, and drive to the house.
Sarah had texted late last night saying she wouldn’t mind picking me up from the airport and dropping me at the hotel, but after the texts we exchanged, I felt it best to keep my distance. I was trying my damndest to keep our relationship professional, but she was making it difficult.
When my ride finally pulls up ten minutes later, I wipe the sweat from my brow, grab my carry-on bag, and hop into the back seat. Even though I’m only going sixteen minutes down the road, the horrendous traffic tests my patience as we sit in the same spot for eight straight minutes.
“You know what, man, I think I’ll just walk the rest of the way.”
The Uber driver looks at me like I’m crazy, but I’ve got places to be and I can’t be late for this. Even though I’ve already paid him through the app, I decide to give him a big tip. I reach into my pocket and grab a fifty-dollar bill. “Here you go, man. Have a good rest of your day.”
He hesitates to bring his hand up to accept the money. “Um, are you sure?”
I shake my head. It’s funny how it’s always the poor who think twice about accepting gifts, never the rich. The expression my generosity elicits only makes me want to give more.
I was raised with a solid ethical foundation of hard work. After months of asking if I could take on the responsibility of a job, my parents finally agreed to let me work as a server in the restaurant in their hotel. They were hesitant that the work would affect my studies, so we did a test run. Once I showed them that my grades wouldn't suffer, they offered me a part-time job.
I was happy to take it on. I didn't need the money, but I wanted to do my part. I knew from watching my parents that being born wealthy didn't mean you had to be stagnant or lazy. They worked hard all of my life, and I’m grateful I got to see what real life is like for most folks, without all of that pampered bullshit.
Through the nonprofit, I got to see things most people never get to see. I’ve helped rebuild towns and have had the opportunity to give simple things to people, things we take for granted, necessities for life, like food, water, and electricity.
I learned a lot from the opportunities my parents gave me as a kid, but most importantly, I learned just because you work hard doesn't mean you will be appreciated. I busted my ass at the restaurant and sometimes I didn't get tipped at all. Because of that experience I make sure whoever I cross paths with is thanked accordingly. It's amazing what a little generosity can
do. The smiles alone are worth it. It was the same with the nonprofit. The amount of work the volunteers put in was exceptional. They inspired me to start the Inspiration awards, named accordingly. I made sure every team member received an award with something specific to them and their contribution.
“Yeah, man.” I laugh. “I’m sure.” I grab my bag and open up the door, and the LA heat hits me in my face, instantly making my cheeks pink. By the time I make it to my hotel room, it’s 11:35 and I can feel beads of sweat rolling down my forehead. My shirt is stuck to my chest, and I feel all around disgusting. The shower is calling my name.
I throw my bag on the bed and unbutton my shirt; the fabric sticks to my chest as I peel it off and toss it down. It's hot here, but nothing can compare to the heat of Ethiopia or Argentina. That’s one reason I am always tan when I come back to the States—I frequently can’t wear shirts when I am building in those locations. The humidity alone is so great there that you practically suffocate while doing anything strenuous. So instead of wearing my shirt, I pour water on it and wrap it around my neck to cool me off. There aren’t hotels near any of the builds, so I usually stay with one of the families nearby, and needless to say, they never have A/C. It’s a luxury most of us in the first world take for granted. I get used to the high heat while I am there, but I definitely still perspire a great deal. Like now.
I kick my pants off as I make my way to the bathroom. I make sure to turn the water to cool because I don’t want to risk getting a heat stroke taking a hot one. The cold water feels amazing as it washes away the stench of the plane and the sweat from my one and a half-mile walk. I didn’t want to waste time rifling through my bag, so I hurriedly wash my hair and body as fast as humanly possible using the travel sized bottles of fancy crap they left for me. I thankfully already picked out an outfit for the occasion, so when I get out of my record four minute shower, I hop into those clothes.
I push the home button on my phone and let out a sigh, times ticking. I walk quickly down the stairs that lead to the parking garage and get into my car, which got delivered to the hotel early this morning, thanks to Sarah.
Even in the shaded garage the car is heated to Death Valley temperatures, but I have no time to sit and wait for it to cool down. I’ve been to California many times before to visit Uncle Bill, but it's always been during the Christmas season so the humidity and sun weren't as scorching as they are now. I had to come at the hottest time of the year, and damn climate change isn’t helping.
I wipe my brow, type the address into my phone’s GPS, and hit the road to my new house. With the cold air blasting and my destination minutes away, I take a moment to relax back into my seat and soak up the beautiful California scenery. I notice vibrant bushes of bougainvillea flowers and tall, swaying palm trees, making my new development look more like a resort than a neighborhood.
As I’m pulling into the driveway, I see Sarah, who’s dressed for a date instead of a business meeting. She’s wearing a black deep v-neck dress that hits mid-thigh with strappy stilettos that make her legs look like they go on for days. I wonder if this is how she normally dresses for business meetings or if she is trying to tempt me. For a moment, I drop my guard and let my imagination go a little off course. I bet when she bends over I’ll have a great view of her tits. Her long brown hair is in loose curls that fall around her shoulder, drawing more attention to her cleavage, and I imagine sweeping it back and burying my face in her chest.
“Fuck,” I breathe out as I try to shake the thought from my mind. I throw the car into park. This woman is going to test my willpower, I can already tell. I knew my attempts at abstinence wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t realize how difficult it would prove to be. I need to walk in there and be a client, and nothing else, I prep talk myself. Then, if I need to, I can rub one out later.
When I step out of the car and start making my way toward her, she shoots me a blinding white smile. “Damn,” I mumble as I look down at my shoes, quietly bracing myself and hoping this doesn’t get awkward.
I hear a girl's voice to my right as I walk up the drive. When I turn toward the chatter, I see two attractive college-aged girls sunbathing in tiny bikinis. I do a double take and bite my lip while I stare at them. I don’t know if I’ve just discovered a perk to buying this house or a flaw.
I keep saying I need to focus on myself, and now attractive girls are popping up everywhere. I shake my head as I try to decide if this is a gift or a curse. Stay focused, Josh, I tell myself as I give them a friendly smile and a quick wave so I don't look like some fucking predator making googly eyes at them.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” I bunch my lips and turn back to a grimacing Sarah, who's staring daggers at the poor sunbathers.
“Josh, I’m so happy to meet you in person.” She leans into me for a hug but I quickly put my hand out for a shake instead. I need to set professional standards up front, and getting a chub from her partially exposed tits rubbing against me won’t help things.
“Hey, Sarah. So good to meet you,” I say as I shake her hand and try my hardest not to look at the cleavage spilling out of her dress. “Are you ready?” she asks as she leads me to the entrance of the house and unlocks the door. She smiles and bites her lower lip. She knows exactly what she is doing, and I do my best to ignore it.
My hand swipes across my hair. ”Yeah, I guess so. Now or never, right?”
“Now or never,” she repeats and throws the door open.
I take a tentative step into the foyer and let my gaze shift left and right, up and down, sweeping back and forth and taking it all in. “This is incredible,” I breathe out as I take my time slowly going through each room.
Everything that I loved in the FaceTime call is magnified in person. The floors are the perfect shade of weathered grey and the walls are painted white throughout, a blank canvas for me to add my own touches. There's so much room to grow here. Even though I am taking a break from women at the moment, I can still envision living here in the future with a wife and a family. I shake the thought from my head, knowing I can’t dwell on it because today is a happy day and I don't want to bring myself down thinking about the shitty relationship hand the world has dealt me. Instead, I change gears and head downstairs toward the back door.
When we reach the back deck, I step out onto it and take in what will be my new view.
“So, what do you think? Did I do a good job finding you your dream house?” She playfully pushes me on the shoulder.
I look at her with wide eyes, incredulous. “You did phenomenal. I appreciate you taking care of all the extra stuff, too. When I make friends, I will gladly refer them to you.”
She’s quiet, and when I turn toward her, I notice she’s staring at me, eyes traveling up and down my body. We make eye contact, I watch as her pupils dilate, making the hazel color almost disappear. She grins as her gaze stays trained on me. Her expression is filled with lust, and I struggle to stay composed. I wonder if she can see the pulse hammering in my neck.
“You sure you don’t want to go have that drink?” She licks her lips, drawing attention to her full pout.
I clear my throat and check the time on my phone to distract myself and prevent any naughty and unwanted thoughts from arising in my head. “We have to get to the closing soon.”
“After the close…” she pushes and lets her hand fall to my forearm.
I let out a breath and shake my head, withdrawing my arm and taking a step back. “You’re going to cause me trouble.” The exhaustion I feel over fighting the urge any man would have after being this close to an attractive woman who is throwing themselves at him comes out when I speak.
“We are both single, Josh. What’s the harm in having a little fun?” She closes the distance between us again and brings a finger to play with a button on my shirt.
I fight the impulse to make a move. The harm is I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I close my eyes tight, and then I turn and say, “We should go. I don’t want to be late fo
r the closing,” while adjusting the front of my pants, which are quite possibly showing the evidence of her ploy.
I hear her sigh behind me. “If you insist.”
“I do,” I answer, and without waiting for her to follow, I walk back through the house and out the front door.
Once I’m safely in my car, I let my head fall back onto the headrest. I push out a breath, glad to have the tough part over with. She’s a forward woman, but I know at the office, with others around, she will have to act professionally. I just need to get through the next hour, then I should be home free. Free from temptation.
***
Twenty minutes later and we make it to the real estate office. I pull my car in beside hers and turn toward her, waiting for her to get out so I can follow her in. She has a scowl on her face and she is staring into space. I’m sure I caused that. She clearly isn’t happy about how things are going between us, but I told her before I came that I didn’t want anything. I miss having a relationship for the companionship and the sex, but from what I see from her, she wouldn’t be my type anyhow. She doesn’t like the word “No.” Sounds like someone else I knew.
I remember the first time I said “No” to Julia. We had just started dating. Her family was having a Christmas party the same night as my parents’ fundraiser. After I explained how important the foundation was to me and my family and how I needed to be there, she still said she thought I should skip it. She tried to guilt trip me, saying her parents would not be happy. But the answer was “No.” It didn't matter how many times she asked, my answer would not change. After she realized that, she had a bit of a fit. I shake my head at the memory.
