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The building was quite modern and sleek and located in a great spot. We were next to an adorable market and just steps from a convenient metro stop. The sort of place I wouldn’t mind living if I could afford it.
“Cute spot,” I said. “Do you want me to wait in the car?”
“I’d prefer you come inside with me.” Dom jerked his head out of the door. “I’m looking at properties, and I want your opinion.”
“My opinion?” I glanced skeptically at him. “Why are you looking around here? Can’t you just buy another whole building?”
“I am looking at the whole building,” he said dryly. “I’d still like your opinion.”
“I’m hardly an expert on buying apartment complexes.”
“No, but you’re an expert at knowing what renters want.” Dom raised his hand. “I don’t mean that in a negative way. You’ve opened my eyes to the fact that I might be a tad distant from the average renter after all these years of living a certain affluent lifestyle.”
“A tad.”
I climbed out of the car, tickled that Dom cared enough to ask my opinion. I grinned, grabbed his hand out of habit now. “Your expert in bottom-of-the-barrel renters is here.”
I pulled Dom to a stop in front of the parking signage out front—no less than three signs informed me I’d be towed if I was parked here longer than fifteen minutes.
“We can’t park here.” I nodded. “You go in, and I’ll meet you there after I move the car.”
Dom looked up like he’d never seen a parking sign in his life. He probably hadn’t had much use for examining them, considering he never drove anywhere. Nor was he worried about getting a ticket that would overdraft his savings account.
“Mr. Kent.” A small man hurried out of the building. “You can leave your car right there. Er—” He stopped himself short. “Is that your car?”
Dom squeezed my hand more tightly. “It is.”
A flash of the man’s eyes to me, as if he suspected I was responsible for the eyesore. Then back to Dom. “You’re fine there. I’m Harrison Jackson, the current manager here, and I’ll be giving you the tour. Shall we get started on our private meeting?”
Harrison eyed me like I might be an annoying piece of gum stuck to Dom’s shoe that he couldn’t quite get rid of. I was pretty sure Harrison would tackle me to the ground if Dom gave the word, the way he was eyeing me like a parasite.
Apparently he didn’t recognize me as one of the Wildcard Candidates. My no comments must have been working to keep my face out of the news—out of sight, out of mind.
“Yes. Trixie is my girlfriend.” Dom took my hand in his. “She’ll be touring the place with me, letting me know her very-important thoughts on it.”
My stomach warmed at his use of the word girlfriend. I knew Dom probably didn’t mean it; he would be using it just for show, so Harrison didn’t question my presence.
But something deep in my soul shifted as I considered how it might feel if this were real. If he’d meant it, if Dom truly wanted me to be his girlfriend. Because I was pretty sure I wanted him to be my boyfriend. The thought hit me like a sack of golden dragon fruits, but I didn’t have time to process what it meant because we were moving.
Harrison glanced over at me. “Nice to meet you, Ms.—”
“Gardens,” I said, finding it awkward how quickly the man’s demeanor had changed now that I was someone with a capital “S”.
Harrison led us into the building. He was short in stature with the signature fair hair of elfin descent. He led us into an elevator and took us up to the top floor first.
“Most of the spaces here are studios, but we do offer several one-bedroom units, and a very small selection of two-bedrooms. We cater to a young but financially stable crowd, usually busy working professionals. Young folks who want to be close to the metro while having access to hip new restaurants and cafés.”
Harrison eyed me like he didn’t think I fit into the demographic. I was pretty sure he’d toss my application straight into the garbage if I so much as hinted that I wanted to live here. Before I was “Someone” with a capital S, of course.
“Privacy, please?” Dom requested, once Harrison had let us into the first studio space.
The man had been buzzing around like a nervous bee. “Yes, of course,” he said, backing out of the room. “Let me know when you’d like to see the rest of the place.”
“What do you think?” Dom asked, studying me more than the apartment once we were alone. “Do you like it?”
“I mean, it’s not really your style,” I said. “Are you planning to live here? We’re on the highest level, and this studio isn’t exactly the penthouse you’re used to.”
“No, it’s not for me,” he said. “It’s an investment property to replace the one I’m selling.”
