Chapter 7
Elsie
“How did it go?” Beth asked as I climbed into my car. “Did you find your dream house?”
I snorted. “I found someone’s dream house, but it isn’t mine.”
After turning the engine over, it took a beat for her voice to flow through my speakers. “How so? Did the agent do that thing where the pictures they put up on the internet aren’t at all what the place really looks like? I hate it when they do that.”
“No, it wasn’t that.” I sat back in my seat and pulled Taydom’s card out of my pocket. Holding it between both my thumbs and index fingers, I rested it on top of the steering wheel. “I don’t think the agent on this house is like that. Honestly, it was my own fault. I misunderstood the advertisement he put up.”
“Damn. What about the others? Didn’t you say there were a few you wanted to have a look at?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I popped into a few of the open houses, but none of them are for me. I think I may need lessons in looking for property because there’s so much I don’t know.”
Or you could just call the hot guy for help like he offered. I shook my head at myself.
If there was anyone who would be able to help me make sense of it all, it probably was Mr. “legitimately the best agent in the city,” but I just didn’t know. He’d seemed nice enough, and I was pretty sure he would divulge all the hidden costs and things, but he was still an agent.
I thought about calling the number anyway, but then Beth’s excited voice was back. “Oh, I can help. I’ve never bought a place myself, but like I said, I love looking at property and going to open houses. I’ve managed to teach myself a little bit about how it works. Wanna come over?”
“Right now?” I frowned as I looked down at the clock on my dashboard, but then I remembered it was a Friday afternoon and there was nothing and no one waiting for me at home anyway. “Never mind. Scratch that. I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll pour the wine,” Beth promised before hanging up.
Traffic had picked up since earlier and it took me much longer to get back than it had to get out to Bishop’s Hollow in the first place, but I was surprised that even at peak time, the drive to the city was more than manageable.
Beth was waiting when I got to her small house and must have seen me pulling up because she opened the front door as soon as I parked. Grabbing my purse, I climbed out of the car and took the glass of wine she held out to me.
With her own in hand, she led me to the swing on her front porch and gestured for me to take a seat. It was one of those oval, hanging, reading chairs and I absolutely adored it. Beth always let me have it when I came over, and she settled on the plastic lawn chair she’d put in front of it.
“So tell me more. You said the place wasn’t for you but why not? What do you feel like you need to learn?”
I tucked my legs in underneath me and cradled the white wine in my lap. “A few things. How to interpret the listings online, for one. It looks like there are a lot of costs involved that don’t show up, and that can make a place that appears to be within budget fall firmly outside of it.”
“That’s true, but I’m sure you’ll get it in no time.” She explained a few of the more basic concepts to me and then frowned. “The agents at the houses you went to should have been able to tell you all this, though. Did you speak to them?”
I felt my cheeks grow warm and it had nothing to do with the wine I was drinking. “I kind of only spoke to one of the agents.”
“What? Why? I mean, I don’t mind talking you through it, but everything I just told you covers the most basic things they should tell you about each individual property. The utilities, for instance, obviously depend greatly on the area and house itself.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s not the utilities I’m worried about so much as some of the costs associated with transfer and that kind of thing, but anyway, Bishop’s Hollow is a nice neighborhood, but I’m not sure it’s my scene.”
“Why not?”
“I felt out of place and ended up being super awkward in front of the agent I spoke to.” I told Beth what had happened and chewed on my lips when she laughed. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little bit funny. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, though. Real-estate agents are a lot like lawyers. I think they’re used to being made fun of.”
“He did say not to worry about it, but I still felt really bad. I basically called him a thief to his face and I don’t even know him.”
She waved a hand, leaning forward as her gaze caught on mine. “If he said not to worry, don’t worry. Besides, like you just said, you don’t even know him. He wouldn’t be in that industry if he hadn’t developed a thicker skin than us mere mortals have. What’s more interesting to me is why you’re blushing like that. All this happened hours ago, and this is me you’re talking to. You never blush when you talk to me.”
I took a large gulp of wine and swallowed slowly, licking my lips when I was done. “It’s just that I found him attractive, is all. I haven’t felt that way since… for a long time.”
She reached out to give my knee an affectionate squeeze, understanding warming her eyes. “I get it, honey, but it’s not a crime to notice a good-looking man.”
Sitting back again, she picked up her phone off the round metal table beside her. “What’s his name, though? I need to see the man who’s captured your interest.”
“Taydom,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I tried to remember his last name from the card.
As it turned out, Beth didn’t need me to tell her. Her eyes went wide and she stilled. “Taydom Gaines? I mean, it’s gotta be him. It’s not a common name.”
I snapped my fingers and nodded. “Gaines. Yeah, that was it. Do you know him?”
“Do I know him?” she muttered and gave me a look of exasperation and amusement. “I don’t know him personally, but I do know of him. Every female in the city who has a pulse knows of him.”
“Why?” I pointed at my chest with my glass. “Also, not true. I didn’t know of him.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been a bit out of it. For obvious and totally understandable reasons, but even so. He’s one of the richest guys in the city, El. He’s also one of the hottest, so I really wouldn’t worry about having been awkward in front of him. I’m sure he’s plenty used to it by now.”
“Wait. Back up. Has he become one of the richest and hottest guys in the city in the last month? Why haven’t I heard about him?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like you’ve ever really kept up with the who’s who of the city. Neither have I, to be honest. There was an article published last month in the Dallas Times that’s shone the spotlight on him again, though, and it’s lingering. I’ve known about him for a long time, but that’s only because he does what he does. You can’t be interested in real estate and not know who he is.”
“God, I can’t believe he’s some kind of real-estate superhero and I came out and basically called him a thief.” I groaned. “It’s a freaking wonder he gave me his card at all. He must have been so offended.”
“Wait.” She held up a finger and tucked her chin in. “He gave you his card?”
I nodded. “He said he’d love to help me find my first house.”
“I hope you took him up on his offer. He pretty much only deals in commercial property nowadays. If he was willing to help you find a place, he couldn’t have been too offended. Plus, you couldn’t have a better person helping you find a place.”
“I’m not even sure if I want to buy yet, though. I didn’t take him up on it right away because I didn’t want to waste his time, but now it feels like asking for his help would be an even bigger waste of his time. If he’s such a big deal, I shouldn’t bother him with this.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “He wouldn’t have offered if he thought it would be a waste of his time.”
“He’s a real-estate agent. It’s literally his job to help people find houses to buy. I’m sure he was
just being nice.”
“He’s not exactly known for being nice.” She laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners. “And weren’t you listening? It’s not really his job to help people find houses anymore.”
As her laughter died down, she brought her fingers to her lips and drummed them as she wagged her brows at me. “You know, his card might be a good one to have, even if you don’t end up buying a house.”
“Very funny.” I pursed my lips and leaned back into the soft cushions in the oval seat before releasing a heavy sigh. “I’m not saying I’d be opposed to the idea, but I doubt he gave me his card so I could use it to make a booty call.”
She winked. “You won’t know if you never try, but I hear you. Hang onto his card, though. Like I said, there’s no one better to help you find a place to stay, and you never know when his number might come in useful.”
“Yeah, I’ll hang onto it.” If I was going to spend my inheritance on property, I really did need good help.
If this Taydom guy was the best there was, I had to consider asking him for help if it came down to it. No matter how hot he was, I’d have to suck it up, give him a call, and do my best not to insult him again.
Just not a booty call because that really wasn’t me.
Much later that night, after more teasing and tips from Beth and two movies during which I only drank coffee and water, I was ready to go home. It had occurred to me when we’d talked earlier about Taydom’s card that I didn’t know what I’d done with it, but I figured it had to be in my car somewhere.
When I climbed in, I searched for it everywhere but didn’t see it.
Great. Not only had I made a total dweeb of myself, but I’d also gone and misplaced perhaps the most important phone number I’d gotten in a long time.
Fuck.
Chapter 8
Taydom
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered when Andrew opened his door shirtless and with his whole torso and face painted in the proud navy-and-gold colors of his favorite basketball team. “You look ridiculous.”
“Thank you.” He smirked at me and stepped aside to let me in. “I saved you some paint. You’re welcome.”
“Uh. No.” I walked into the renovated warehouse he called home and bypassed the art supplies in his living room without a second thought, opting for heading to the kitchen to grab a beer instead. “For the record, I’m not going out with you decked out like that.”
“We’re going to the game, bro. Fans are expected to be decked out like this, so I’ll repeat myself. I saved some paint for you. Get to it.”
“There’s no fucking way I’m going out with my face painted like a five-year-old.” I twisted the cap off the beer and tossed it in the trash, then leaned with my hip against the countertop and pointed the bottle at him. “I’m not going out with you looking like one either.”
Andrew’s blue eyes lit up with humor as he folded his arms defiantly. “Well then, we’re at an impasse, my friend. I’m not washing this off. It took me an hour to do.”
“An hour that would’ve been better spent doing literally anything else.” I shook my head as I took a long sip of my beer. I pushed off the counter and made my way to the couch. “Didn’t you want to hit up some club after the game?”
“Yeah, so?” He ran his hands along the length of his abdomen and rolled and thrust his hips. “This just showcases the goods so much better. Don’t you think?”
My hand flew up to cover my eyes, and I barked out a laugh. “I really didn’t want to see that. Ever. And no, I don’t think. I think it makes you look like one of those sports nutcases.”
“Sports nutcases?” He lifted both his brows before he burst out laughing and picked his beer up off the coffee table. “I am a sports nutcase, in case you haven’t noticed. It’s part of being a man, bro.”
“No, it’s really not.” Growing up, I’d played a lot of sports but never really had too much time to watch them.
Our old man lived and breathed for baseball, like so many others in my home state, but his love for it kind of put me off. Well, that, and the fact whenever Riley or I tried to join him to watch a game, he’d growl at us that if we didn’t have enough work to do, he’d happily give us more.
The television was mostly used by my mother for soap operas and my father for his beloved baseball, while my brother and I only managed to sneak in a few shows here and there. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
We were boys growing up on a farm. Dad was right. There was always a lot of work to be done, and whenever we had free time, I’d preferred to be either outside or busying myself with schoolwork anyway.
It had always been a priority of mine to get out of Woodstock, and I knew lying on the couch in front of a screen wasn’t going to get me there. Since moving to the city, I’d gotten slightly more into sports, but I guessed it just wasn’t part of my very DNA like it seemed to be a part of Andrew’s.
He snorted at me now, rolling his eyes as he threw himself down on the couch across from mine. “One day, bro, I’m going to get you dressed up for a game. Just you wait.”
“Wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you.” I laid my head back and sucked down more of my beer, my gaze on the exposed beams crisscrossing Andrew’s ceiling. From the way they looked now, I never would have guessed how much work it had taken to get them restored. Just like the rest of the warehouse, the beams had been pretty rotten when Andrew had bought the place.
I’d thought he was crazy, but he insisted the neighborhood was being rejuvenated and that this place was capable of being turned into the most perfect man cave. Loathe as I was to admit it out loud, he’d been right.
The area had turned into a trendy spot for young professionals to live over the last few years. It was covered in bars, clubs, bistros, and coffee shops. It boasted quirky art galleries, bike paths, and organic grocers. They even had street murals.
All in all, I thought it was bullshit.
Andrew loved it, though, and I couldn’t fault him on that. It was everything he’d ever wanted in a neighborhood, and the exposed brick walls and open-plan layout of his warehouse suited him to a tee, too.
It was a far cry from my estate out in the suburbs, not actually all that far from Bishop’s Hollow, but I was starting to see the appeal. My house had been bought because it was a solid investment. It was a good place to live and had plenty of space for whatever I might need.
Andrew’s had been bought as a den of iniquity or, as I liked to think of it, an over-sized play pen. But I had to admit that living here, cutting free, and simply being didn’t seem all that bad anymore.
“Stop ogling my house,” he joked. “It’s not for sale. Not to you or anyone else.”
“Dude, everything is for sale. The only question is the price.”
He rolled his eyes at me and chugged his beer, pounding his fist into his chest when he was done. “Not this house. I wouldn’t let it go if you offered me millions of bucks for it.”
“Yeah? So you’re still going to be living here when you’re old and gray and married?”
He winced. “Don’t say the M-word in here. You’ll scare the place.”
“If it’s that easily scared, I don’t want it anyway.” I laughed and drained the rest of my beer. “We should get going.”
“Yeah, soon. Let’s have one more drink. We haven’t pre-gamed nearly hard enough. I’m pretty sure I have a bottle of tequila around here somewhere. Give me a minute.”
Sure enough, he was back less than a minute later with two more beers, a frosted glass bottle under one arm, and shot glasses in his free hand. He grinned broadly at me. “Let’s celebrate.”
“What are we celebrating?” I asked, accepting the beer he handed over to me.
He shrugged as he set down the small glasses and filled them, pushing one across the coffee table toward me. “It’s game day, so we can celebrate that. How did your open house go yesterday? If you sold it, we could celebrate that as well.”
“I got a f
ew offers. One of them should get accepted, but I don’t know for sure yet, and we shouldn’t celebrate prematurely.”
Andrew chuckled. “I bet you know all about premature celebration.” The way he lowered his voice and emphasized the word after a brief pause made it clear that it hadn’t been the word he really wanted to use.
“Fuck off. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Hey, you can’t blame me for thinking that. If I’d been dry for as long as you have, I’d have been premature too.”
“Shut up.” I groaned. “I’ve just been busy, and I’m bored as fuck with the usual. Get off my ass about it. Are we going to drink these before they get warm?”
“Yeah.” He threw his shot back without toasting to anything and grabbed a fistful of his blond hair, eyes stretched wide open. “You’re bored of one-night stands with hot-as-fuck women? What is wrong with you?”
“You and I have two very different definitions of hot as fuck.” Without really meaning to, I found my mind drifting back to Elsie as I tossed my own drink down the hatch. “Speaking of which, there was a woman at the open house yesterday who was pretty hot.”
“Yeah?” He spread his legs wide and popped his elbows on them, drink dangling between his fingers. “Was she waiting on her husband? The hot ones at those things always seem to be waiting on the wallet to arrive.”
I snorted, but I couldn’t argue. “Nah, she wasn’t like that. From the sound of it, she’s pretty independent. Smart too.”
“If she’s the whole package, why don’t you call her? We can meet up with her somewhere after the game.”
I sighed before taking another long sip of my beer. “I can’t call her because I didn’t get her number.”
“Dude.” He shook his head. “That’s a rookie mistake.”
“Yeah, well, there’s nothing I can do about it now. I checked the guest book from the open house, and she didn’t leave her details.”
Give Me The Weekend Page 5
