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“I told you, didn’t I?” I stepped forward and wrapped her in my arms. She returned my hug a bit awkwardly. “You just can’t help yourself, huh?” She teased. I raised my brow, thinking for a moment that her defenses may have been down.
“Should I?”
“Yes, you should. I don’t like to be touched without permission.”
There it was.
“That’s fair.”
“Where are we?”
“This is one of the houses I own.”
“Really?” She cocked her brow. I didn’t entertain her suspicion. I just walked to through the front door with her in tow.
“Wow, Prince!”
“You like it?” I felt a swell of pride.
“I do. I mean, damn, look at this floor plan. Is this one listed? It would certainly be on the top of my list. Just on the entry alone.”
“You in the market?”
“No, but if I was...” She trailed off as she walked a few more steps with her head tilted toward the chandeliers.
“You did this?” She pointed upward.
“More like I bought it and mounted it, but yes, I placed it and reframed the whole house. It took me months, and I had help here and there.”
“Now I talk a lot of shit—"
“I noticed.”
“See I’m trying to be nice.” She rolled her eyes. “Like I was saying, I talk a lot of shit, but this is a beautiful home. A lot of attention to detail…” Again, her words stopped as she walked to different rooms.
“What do you like the most about it?”
“The stairs. Growing up I always told myself I wanted a home with stairs. Maybe even a few floors.”
“You had a big house as a child? You from New Orleans, right?”
“No, not really. Look at you thinking you know something about me. I mean, we weren’t broke or nothing, but we damn sure never had a house like this.”
“I was in the South a minute in Florida. But I was born and raised here. Our houses were always nice sized, but I have a thing for levels and balconies. My home will always have plenty.”
She stepped into the kitchen, and a smile spread across her face. It was so bright that I knew at that very moment I would count every smile that graced her face in my presence. Something so beautiful deserved to be bottled. It made me want to build her shit every day so that I could never see it fade.
“If Florida is the South, so is California.”
“Look, I don’t ride for it like that, so you have no argument from me.”
“Because it ain’t none,” she shot back over her shoulder. “This house is beautiful, but it’s so empty.” She continued to whip her head around from side to side.
“You do know I’m trying to sell this, right?” I stayed a few feet behind, admiring.
“Are you really, though? The home is beautiful. Dynamic even. You have to tell people what to do with the space. Something this forward-thinking has to be shown. You don’t want to give people a puzzle they can’t solve.”
“Hmm. You may be right. I put it up once, and I had to take it down because I didn’t get interest. I made some updates here and there and changed the paint to give it a warmer look. Damn you may be right.” I confirmed her thoughts again. I was deliberately edgy with anything I touched but it was possible it was overwhelming to the buyer.
