Page 32 of Diego

“You can still do that here.”

“It's not exactly the same thing.”

“No.” She glances around the property. “But you also have a big family.”

I look at her.

She continues before I can ask how much research she did. “You have brothers with very young children, and nephews who are old enough that some of them could be having children of their own before too long. Big Italian family, right?”

I laugh. “Very.”

“So yes, it is a lot for one single man. But it’s also the kind of place where your family could come over without everyone being packed into one room. Kids would love this yard.”

My eyes move toward the lake.

Blair notices immediately. “Don’t worry. The backyard is fully gated. So is the pool.”

I look back at her.

She points toward the fencing built into the landscaping. “The children can be out here without having direct access to the beach. The pool has its own separate gate as well. You would still supervise them, obviously, but no one is wandering down toward the water unattended.”

That impresses me more than I want to admit.

She is not merely showing me a large house and telling me it is beautiful. She has thought about how I might use it. She knows enough about my family to understand that I am rarely alone when everyone gathers, and instead of presenting the size as something meant to impress me, she is giving it a purpose.

I glance at her. “You did a lot of research.”

“It helps to know who I'm finding a home for.” She looks out over the yard. “Otherwise I’m just opening doors and hoping you like what’s behind them.”

I study her for a second.

Randall spent yesterday throwing expensive properties at me and waiting for one to stick. Blair had one night and somehow figured out that security matters, that my family matters, and that a house this size might make sense to me for reasons that have nothing to do with showing off.

Maybe experience isn’t the advantage Randall thinks it is.

She leads me across the grass toward another gate built into a stone wall at the back of the property. Beyond it, a staircase descends toward the beach.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Blair opens the gate and starts down.

The upper stairs are stone, but halfway toward the bottom, sand begins to gather around the edges. By the time we reach the last few steps, the landscaped grounds are behind us and the lake fills everything ahead.

At the bottom is a broad stone landing stretching across part of the beach. Beyond it is sand, then the water.

“If you wanted to entertain down here,” Blair says, “you could use the sand itself, or there’s enough space on this landing for tables and seating without having to be directly on the sand.”

I look toward the water.

“We can get closer if you’d like.”

My gaze drops to her very pretty pumps.

Entirely inappropriate for sand.

Blair follows my attention. “I can take them off.”