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And with that, he turns and leads me down a long hallway into a massive living room with vaulted ceilings and enormous windows looking out over the ocean. There’s a row of white rimmed French doors that open the room up to the sea breeze.
A set of decadent looking, cream-colored couches sit in a horseshoe around a low wooden table, with comfy chairs scattered about. The cool tile floor is the color of wet sand, ornamented here and there with long, colorful shag rugs. I can just see into the open kitchen from where I stand, over an island with a row of cushion topped stools.
“Wow,” I say, unable to hold in my awe.
“Yeah, it’s really something.”
“You guys own this house together?”
“Did your homework, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say simply, caught up in the sassy character I get to play around this man. “Did you?”
I don’t know why I say it. It’s easily the stupidest thing I could’ve ever said. Why would I suggest he look into my background?
I quickly try to distract him, hoping the idea won’t sink in.
“You live here?”
“I live in New York.”
“This is your vacation home?”
“Something like that.”
“Okay, Mr. Mysterious. Do you like scary movies?”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever watched one.”
My mouth falls open in horror. “Never?”
Ben shrugs, crossing the living room into the open kitchen and heading for the fridge. “Drink?”
“Yes please, what do you have?”
“Most things.”
I laugh at the man’s inability to elaborate. “I’ll have a White Claw.”
“I don’t have that.”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having then.”
I make my way over to the massive television and start fishing around for remotes.
I hear a clink behind me and turn to see Ben setting down two rocks glasses, half full of amber liquid onto the table behind us.
Of course.
“How do you turn this thing on?”
“Just tell it to turn on.”
“Television, turn on.”
The television turns on.
Wow.
