It wasn’t fair to my ex-fiancé, really, but his coldness to me after he put a ring on my finger wasn’t fair to me either. I found myself realizing slowly but surely that I was signing up for a life with a man who never laughed, never teased, and never ate food in bed. A life that would never be effortlessly joyful.
Why did I ever say yes?
I’m almost to my car when my phone buzzes.
Maddox: If you’re serious about sticking around, I listed a place today that you might be interested in. Seller is flexible on the price too. No pressure. Just trying to help.
I stop at my car and read his message again.
Me: Link me. You never know.
Maddox: That’s true. You never know. And that’s why life is fun.
I watch the screen and a few seconds later, a listing appears in our text box. I wait a minute, and then two, to see if he says anything else.
But he doesn’t.
I shrug. Typical Maddox. Always off to the next thing.
With a smile, I get into my car and head to Rebecca’s.
FIVE
Ashley
I park across the road from the listing that Maddox sent me yesterday. Then I turn down the air conditioner because the sound is distracting, and I can’t multitask worth a crap.
The sun is high in the sky, practically baking everything on the ground. It was too hot for the beach, the wrong time of day for a casual stroll in Florida, and I was too antsy to sit alone at Rebecca’s. So I decided to do a little house hunting so I can get out of Becca’s guest room.
I’ve been there long enough.
“It’s nice,” I say, taking the house in. “Except for that hideous door.”
The dark gray, two-story is tucked between old-growth trees on both sides. The landscaping appears low maintenance, and the neighborhood seems quiet and friendly. A man and woman waved at me a couple of houses down when I passed.
I reach for my phone, then find his name and touch it. Immediately, it begins to ring.
Shifting in my seat, I exhale—only to stop mid-breath when the ringing stops.
“Hey, Ash. Can you hold on for just a second?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“No, Tati. That’s fine. Just send them the contract and let them figure it out,” Maddox says, his voice muffled. “If they have questions, they can call.” He pauses. “Hey, can you close that door for me? Thanks.”
A bead of sweat dots my forehead. I turn the vent up one notch.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “You caught me mid-conversation with my assistant.”
“You could’ve called me back, you know.”
I can almost hear his grin through the line. “Ha. So what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
I wonder if he can hear me smiling too. “Well, I happen to be sitting outside a certain gray house on Orange Street and I was wondering if I could get some more information on it. It’s pretty cute.”
“Except for that door? Did you see that thing?”
Laughing, I relax in my seat. “You’re supposed to be talking the place up, not pointing out the flaws.”
“I’m fairly certain that one’s obvious.” Papers shuffle in the background. “Let’s see … I can show you that next week if you’re really interested. The owners cleared us to show it, and then the husband decided to paint a bathroom. So we’re on hold for a week—which is stupid, but people are stupid, I’ve learned.”
“That they are.”
“Or you could come by the office today, and we could talk about it …”
I hum, catching my reflection in the window. “I read the listing. What else is there to talk about?”
“I have other houses, you know. Or we could talk about what you’re doing this weekend. Or why the sun is shining. Whatever gets you over here.”
Maddox, you flirt. “Would you stop?”
“Stop what? I just want to see my buddy.”
I roll my eyes.
“What’s it gonna take, Miss Thompson?”
The warmth in his words heats my cheeks. If someone walks by and sees me smiling like this, they’ll think I’m a wacko.
“I’m waiting,” he says.
I have so many things I should be doing, and visiting Maddox at work isn’t one of them. It’s a time suck waiting to happen.
But it is about a house that I am interested in, so …
“See you in fifteen minutes?” I ask.
“Perfect.”
“Bye.”
“Go on in. I think he’s waiting for you.” Tati, Maddox’s assistant, winks as she waves her hands toward the hallway. “It’s good to see you again, Ashley. You look fantastic.”
I stop at her desk in the lobby. What did she say?
“Oh, um … thank you,” I say, glancing down at my shorts and old AC/DC T-shirt that I got at a garage sale a couple of years ago. The fabric is ridiculously soft … and thin. “Can you see through this?”