by Piper Rayne
Then the bad start to seep into the good. The days my mom never got out of her bed. Or the fights in the kitchen where spaghetti sauce ended up splattered all over the wall.
The bones are good in this house and has loads of potential. I refuse to let it be the ugliest house on the block.
Heading back to the front door after one quick pass through the top floor, I find George typing away on his phone, still as a statue.
“This is it,” I say when he glances up at me.
“Are you sure? I think this might be the worst you’ve ever taken on.”
He’s right. I’ll be digging into my savings and probably won’t make nearly the profit I usually do, but I remember why I turned to flipping houses to begin with. The money at the end is nice, but it’s about bringing out the best of what’s already there, not building something shiny and new like a developer would.
“I’m sure. I just have to beat out Oswald. They’d cut corners and make a steal on this property.”
“Yeah, I always steer my clients clear of his places.”
We exit the house and I stand on the porch that I fear could cave in at any moment. I take a moment to look around my old neighborhood, staring at the houses up and down the street.
I don’t understand.
“How can it be just this house in such disrepair? They have flowerbeds.” I point to the house directly across from us. “They have a gate surrounding their front lawn.” I point to two houses down.
George shrugs. “You know the city. There’s no rhyme or reason. Sometimes someone elderly dies and they have no family to take care of their assets or their families want to hang on to it until the market goes up, but they don’t maintain it.” He takes the steps down and turns on the sidewalk, staring back up at the house.
“Yeah, I suppose so.” We continue down the walkway and he moves to shake my hand but turns it into a fist bump instead.
“Let me know when you’re ready to list.”
I fist bump him, laughing out loud. “Thanks, George.”
I arrive home and open the door to my house to find Lauren flying down the stairs. She puts her finger to her lips and sneaks into the hall closet.
A second later, a half-dressed Vanessa stomps down from upstairs. There’s no urgency in her steps, but her eyes are bouncing all around as she descends.
“What is going on?” I ask.
“Lauren gave that Bianco guy my number.” She raises a hairbrush in her hand. “Now I’m going to beat her to death.”
I raise both eyebrows. The two fight like sisters and I think I’m the middle child.
“You might want to reconsider. Cristian could be the one to answer the 911 call.”
She pretend swats at me with the hairbrush but I just laugh at her.
“I’m starving.” I head to the kitchen, cringing at the sound of furniture sliding on the hardwood floors. “Do I need to remind you that I still need to sell this place at some point?”
“Don’t worry. Those nifty felt pads you bought are doing the trick,” Vanessa calls out.
I open the door and investigate what’s in the fridge.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Vanessa says in a singsong voice from the other room.
Did I say I was the middle child? I meant the mother. I’m like the damn guardian of these two women.
“Put the hairbrush down and we’ll talk,” Lauren says, and Vanessa must try to follow the sound of her voice because I can hear her running toward the foyer.
Lauren’s small enough to hide behind the vacuum in the closet and Vanessa would miss her.
Cracking open a soda, I pour it into a glass and raise my voice so she’ll hear me. “I don’t get what the big deal is,” I say to Vanessa. “Go on one date with the guy. I can’t say enough good things about Cristian.” I sit on the stool at the breakfast bar so I have a bird’s eye view into the entryway and watch her continue to play this childish game of hide and seek.
“He’s got two strikes against him. One, he wears a badge. Two, he honors the badge.”
“Wouldn’t that be the point of his job…to do it well?” I sip my drink.
Vanessa crinkles her brows. “It’s admirable and I’m sure the girl he ends up with will love that about him. I’m not that girl.”
“No one said anything about marriage. It’s a date. For charity.”
Vanessa opens up the hall closet, jumps in front of the opening and pushes back all our coats. “Hah!”
Lauren’s not there, which means she’s snuck off to a different hiding spot now.
“Damn you!” Vanessa hits the back of the brush on her palm.
“Back to you being upset that he has your phone number…” I say, trying to understand her issue.
“He called me today. He didn’t text, he called.”
“The nerve of the man.” I sip my drink, grabbing a banana from the counter.
“Who calls anymore? It’s desperate if you ask me.”
“Or considerate,” I offer.
She rolls her eyes, moving to the bathroom doorway now. “You date him then.” She raises both eyebrows before stepping into the bathroom.
If only my heart didn’t skip a beat when I look at his brother.
“Oh, that’s right.” She peeks her head out. “You love his brother.”
“No, I don’t.”
She heads back into the bathroom and I can hear her opening and closing the cupboard doors. Meanwhile, a crawling Lauren still dressed in her scrubs finds refuge behind our kitchen island. Again she puts her finger to her lips like we’re six and this game actually means anything.
“I saw the twinkle in your eye.” Vanessa enters the kitchen, her long blonde hair half curled and half straight, and I realize she must’ve been in the middle of getting ready for her night. She either has a date or she’s off to her mystery job. I really hope the two aren’t combined together.
“There was no twinkle. Sure I had a crush on him in high school, but hello, I’m nine years older and wiser now.”
“Wiser how?” Vanessa sits down at the stool next to me because this is Vanessa. She’s grown bored with the game whereas Lauren would play for the rest of the night—she’s that competitive.
“Wise to the fact that my life is not a movie where the ugly duckling turns into a swan and gets the handsome prince. This is reality and you date within your level.”
“Level?” Vanessa grabs my soda and takes a sip.
“You know fives with fives, eights with eights. Sure maybe there’s a seven and six somewhere together. Tens only go with sixes when they want something from them.”
Vanessa’s face falls to a frown. “And what do you think you are?”
It’s a test. I’m sure of it. “A six.”
“A six?” Her mouth hangs open.
“Is there an echo in here?”
Vanessa slides off the stool and stands in front of me. “Stand up,” she demands, using her authoritative voice she inherited from her father.
“I’m eating.”
She cocks her head to the side.
I roll my eyes and stand.
“Go stand in front of the mirror.” She points to the gold-framed mirror I found at a flea market and re-finished into an antique looking mirror someone would pay hundreds for at Pottery Barn.
“I’m not playing this game. Yeah, yeah, you and Lauren think I’m beautiful. I’m not saying I’m a two. A six is completely respectable.”
“Just go stand in front of it.” She pushes lightly on my shoulders.
I drag my feet, chomping on my banana the whole time. “Okay, what now?” I look at my reflection.
“Your eyes are stunning. Your hair is silky and smooth. Your figure is spank bank material if you’d stop hiding it. Can you honestly say you’re only a six?”
I shrug. “I feel more comfortable dating in my division.” Turning back around, I grab my soda and head to the couch, leaving Lauren hiding behind the island.
“O
h, Maddie, you’re impossible sometimes.” Vanessa follows behind me. “Ouch!”
I turn around before I can sit down to find Lauren with the brush in her hand and Vanessa’s clutching her ass with a pained look on her face. “Damn you!”
Lauren runs up the stairs laughing maniacally as though she’s ready for round two, but Vanessa sits down next to me rather than follow.
“How do I blow off this guy nicely?” she asks. “I can’t have him going around telling the district what a bitch the Commander’s daughter is. My dad would kill me.”
“Just tell him you have work. Speaking of—” I straighten my back and turn to face her, wanting to broach the subject of exactly where she’s earning money since she’s been so cryptic, but she stands quickly.
“Good idea. I’ll just say I have no idea what my schedule is going to be like.” She leans forward, kissing my cheek. “You’re so smart and beautiful, you little eleven you.” She winks and runs up the stairs.
A few seconds later I hear her scream, “Lauren, grow the fuck up!” A door slams.
The joys of living with my two best friends.
My phone dings next to me and when I glance at the name, my stomach flips.
Mauro: Are we still on for Friday night?
Me: Yeah. I was thinking Dice and Spins. It’s a cafe. Maybe around seven?
Mauro: Sure, I’ve never heard of it.
Because you’re not a dork who loves board games.
Me: I’ll text you the address.
Mauro: Perfect. See you then.
My thumbs hover over the phone. Should I respond? Is he expecting something more back from me or is that the end of our conversation?
God, I’m so terrible at this stuff.
I press the thumbs up emoji and no three dots appear. I’m ashamed to admit that I watched for them for a whole two minutes.
I have no idea how I’m going to get through our date without making a fool of myself like I did before. Maybe I should consider myself lucky that I’m the only one who remembers the first time around.
Chapter Four
Mauro
I’m leaning against my truck, waiting for my slow-ass brothers to make an appearance along with a Realtor who was nice enough to agree to show me the house.
Patel’s words definitely got to me and that’s why I’m outside a house Hunter and I had our eye on as it went into foreclosure. The bank owns it now and I’m hoping the fact that it’s going up for auction means that not a lot of people are interested.
Cristian runs around the corner, his earbuds in, wearing his man leggings, shorts, and a skin-tight shirt. Looking about as unmanly as you can while working out.
His pace slows to a walk when he rounds the corner and he pulls his earbuds out of his ears.
“Hey,” he says, leaning over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
“You’re an embarrassment to the Bianco name.” I push off my truck with my foot, open the door and grab a water, tossing it in his direction.
“An embarrassment? Hello.” He pulls up his shirt to reveal his eight pack. “And I don’t have the cushy twenty-four on, forty-eight off schedule. My ass sits in a patrol car for eight fucking hours straight.” He gulps down half the bottle. “Thanks for this.” He raises the bottle he asked me to bring him into the air.
“Whatever happened to old t-shirts and basketball shorts?”
He looks down at his attire, clearly confused over my question. “This is climate control. I sweat less and it dries fast. Hate to break it to you, brother, but no one wants sweat rings around their neck and pits that don’t dry for hours anymore.”
“I know what dri-fit is, I also know what size I am. Not sure you can say the same.” I eye his erect nipples poking through the thin fabric.
“You’re objectifying me.” He covers his nipples with his hands.
I roll my eyes just as my other brother pulls his motorcycle into the four-by-four space between me and the car in front of me. Luca takes off his helmet.
“One downside to you working in the city is that you must not see many motorcycle accidents.”
He puts the helmet on the bench of his bike. “I’ve seen plenty, but thanks, Dad.”
Luca saunters up to us in his jeans and the t-shirt my mom gave him for his birthday, I fix stupid with a cartoon of an ambulance on it.
My youngest brother is a paramedic. He’s good at his job, which is surprising once you get to know him.
“Nice shirt,” I say.
He glances down. “Well, it’s a hell of a lot better than Christine over there.” He nods to Cristian.
“They’re compression pants,” Cristian argues.
“They’re man leggings,” Luca and I say in unison.
Cristian rolls his eyes and unplugs his earbuds.
“You know you’re probably going to be the first of us to go down with a heart attack,” Luca says. “It’s always the guy with picture perfect health. ‘No way Cristian had a heart attack, the man ran five miles a day, ate nothing but vegetables, he was so disciplined.’” Luca laughs.
Cristian shakes his head at him.
“This is the house.” I motion toward it with my hand.
The three of us stand outside of it, just staring for a moment.
“It’s a shit hole,” Luca says.
“Or a treasure,” I say.
I feel both their eyes on me. They think I’m delusional and they might be right. I should find a house that only needs a few upgrades, not a complete overhaul, but the return on this will be bigger if I can pull it off.
“You think you have the skill to do this?” Cristian, always the sensible one, asks the type of question I assumed he would.
“I think between me and the people we know, yes.”
Luca places his hand on my shoulder. “Even I can’t revive this house.” He moves forward, driven by his natural curiosity toward anything that seems too big to conquer. He rarely accepts defeat.
Having brothers like Luca and Cristian is like having the angel and the devil always weighing in on a decision, which is why I invited them over.
“I hate to be the jackass here, but…” Cristian joins Luca, pretending to tiptoe up the front steps, steps that appear as if they might sink into the ground.
“Nice neighborhood though.” Luca stands on the porch, tucking his sunglasses into the neckline of his t-shirt. “How much again?”
I stand there envisioning a nice fence in the front, a walkway lined with flowers and hydrangeas along the ground in front of the porch. “Twenty K to start.”
“It’s going to be auctioned?” Luca asks.
“Yes, it is,” a female voice says behind me. “Which means you need to make sure all your finances are in order and ready by Monday. My feeling is that you won’t be the only one who’s looking for a steal in a nice neighborhood.”
All three of us turn around and find a woman in heels and a short skirt standing on the sidewalk. Her eyes bulge out of her head and her gaze flows up and down each one of us.
“Hi, I’m Mauro, the one you talked to on the phone.” I step forward and hold my hand out. She takes it while still examining Luca.
“I’m Greer and I’ll be waiting outside while you guys take a look.”
She wiggles between Cristian and Luca, bending over to punch the code into the lockbox for the key. One quirked eyebrow from Luca as he checks out her ass and the door opens.
Once we’re inside, Cristian strips his shirt off and uses it to cover his nose and mouth. “This is horrible.” His voice is muffled as he tiptoes around the room like a little girl.
“Man up.” Luca kicks a rug out of the way between the dining room and kitchen. “I know I’m the optimistic one, but Mauro, this is a kick me in the nuts project.” He disappears through an archway.
“This smell is almost as bad as a decomposing body.” Cristian circles around, staying in the same spot.
“Afraid to get your new running shoes dirty?” I co
ck an eyebrow.
He ties the shirt around his face like a bandana so it’s still covering his nose and mouth. “Fuck off.” He heads toward the stairs, his back to the wall as he slowly moves up them like he’s clearing a house. I guess none of us are ever too far removed from our day jobs.
“The backyard is killer,” Luca hollers and I leave Cristian to examine the top floor and head Luca’s way.
“Big? It didn’t look that way from outside.”
“No, I meant you’re actually going to get killed. Rose bush thorns galore.” He’s staring out the kitchen window. “You’re on your own there.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Where’s pretty boy?” Luca glances at the open stairway to the basement. “Let’s make him be the first one to go down there.”
It’s dark and the stench wafting from the open door doesn’t make it appealing in any way. “Please. I thought you were a man?” I slide by him.
“I’m not gonna get murdered. We all have our roles in this family. Cristian’s is to beat up the perps. Mine is to save lives.”
“I run into burning buildings without knowing the layout. I can handle a basement.” I take one at a time, gingerly placing my foot down in case the boards won’t hold and pushing cobwebs away from my face.
“Okay, but if there’s some junkie down there high as a kite thinking he’s Batman, remember how I told you to wait for Cristian.” Luca’s footsteps follow mine.
“I’m running into a building when everyone else is running out. I think I can handle a little danger. Unlike you who can’t go anywhere until the scene is safe. You’re hiding in your ambulance while we do the hard work.”
“You chose that career,” he says.
“Damn right I did.”
I wouldn’t change that—ever. I just need to supplement my income and since I’ve always been good with my hands, here I am.
“I understood that career, this one not so much.” Luca stays on the bottom step glancing around the basement that looks like it’s always been dirty and dingy with creepy crawlers lurking in every dark corner.
