Page 79 of His Turn

Law comes up to our window again. And again Bric says, “Next.”

The guy just shrugs, gets back into his car, and we follow him to the third place.

The castle with turrets.

The gate is larger than the last two and the driveway is longer, which means the lot is bigger and no neighbors can see into the house. There’s trees along the property line. Tall, skinny ones that create a wall of sticks that might even be pretty in the summer.

“Do you even want to see it before we move in? Or should we just surprise ourselves next week?”

I stare at the house. It looks cold. And old. It’s all gray-brown stone and appears to be something out of history.

The window rolls down. Bric says, “Offer five million cash. Three-day possession.”

“Don’t you want to see inside?” Law asks.

“I saw the pictures online,” Bric says. “It’s good enough.”

“Uh, OK,” Law says back. “I’ll write it up and email you.”

The window rolls back up. We sit in silence.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say. “I have a place to live.”

“I didn’t do it for you, Nadia. I did it for us. Would you like to have dinner? Or do you want to go back to your apartment?”

“Is Jordan coming?”

“No,” Bric says. “He says he’s busy.”

I let out a long sigh. “Is he quitting on me?”

“No,” Bric says, a little bit of surprise in his voice. “Why do you think that?”

“Because ever since you showed up he’s been conveniently missing.”

“He’s got some big case, Nadia. Don’t internalize things.”

“Is he going to move into this house with us?”

“As far as I know,” Bric says. But he doesn’t sound very sure of himself. “I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow. Do you want dinner?”

“Sure,” I say. But I feel sad all of a sudden. I feel like I just lost something even though Elias Bricman just purchased a five-million-dollar house that I will soon be living in.

I stew in that as Bric makes his way across town and we unexpectedly end up back in front of my building. “I thought we were going to eat?” I say.

“I don’t want to be around you if you don’t want to be around me. So I’ll take a raincheck on that.”

I stare at him with squinted eyes and say, “Well, that’s just fucking great,” as the valet opens my door. I slip one leg out of the car, but Bric grabs my wrist and holds me tight. I look over my shoulder at him. “What?”

“If you invite me in, I’ll come up. We can order takeout. Kiss a little.”

I glance at the valet, who blushes and backs off, then look back to Bric. “Would you like to come upstairs?”

“I would, Nadia Wolfe. Thank you for the invitation.”

The valet helps me out and then Bric is beside me, offering his arm. I take it and let him lead me inside, to the elevator, upstairs, to my door.

I fish my keys out of my pretentious purse and then Bric’s hand is on mine, taking them from me. He unlocks and opens the door, then waves a hand for me to enter, like this is his place and not mine.